A year in our home. Literally.

We've been in our new home for a year now. Seems forever ago and still only yesterday. And yes, we've quite literally spent that year mostly in our home. Working. Schooling. Dancing. Singing. Crying (mostly me). Wresting (the boys). Screaming (everyone?). 

This isn't the year we thought we'd be living. But the keywords there are WE and LIVING. We have us. We are living our best true and beautiful life. With, goodness, so much to be thankful for. 

I love every nook and cranny of this house. I love the people I share it with even more.

And I love the lessons we've learned, the challenges we've faced through the past 366 days. Because these things shape you. My kids continue to astound me with their empathy and caring. Their differing personalities. Their ability to make ginormous messes in zero time. Their bonds with each other. Their smarts, wit and charm. Their perception. Their awesomeness. 

We've had our rough spots. I mean truthfully, most any day comes with a rough spot, right? And there are days I legit lose my cool. And there are days I think fuck this is hard. And there are days I think, really, something else? But these times are just different than anything we've lived or even thought of living before. 

And as a family of five, there's no shortage of hard times, drama and really loud volumes. Parenting itself is, whoa, way more difficult at times than I ever imagined. Parenting now, during a pandemic. Ha, where's the book on this? 

Also, no shortage of cuddles. Laughs. Dance moves. Virtual reality moves. YouTube videos. Hugs. (Gosh these boys love hugs.) Legos. Talking. Happy.

We are here. Together. And that is everything to me.