Spring sprang & Florida finally started to feel like Florida. Temperatures rose & humidity peaked it’s head out of hiding- my skin thanks you, but my curly hair greets you with chaos dear humidity. We took a few trips to the beach & it solidified our notion that coastal living would in fact be one of the best decisions we’d ever made.

Mayne ate sand for the first time, and somewhere along the way he took his first steps this month. I’m not sure of the date because I’ve unintentionally vowed to live in the moment with motherhood instead of documenting all his important milestones. He hasn’t actually started walking anyway- just a few rouge steps every now & then when we aren’t looking. I haven’t decided if it’s because us watching makes him nervous or he’s just independent.

“You only have a few years in life to hang out naked in the yard without the neighbors judging you or calling the cops.”

It only rained once this month. We spent almost every afternoon outside. Caleb and I started creating a courtyard in our backyard- the first DIY project was a journey. It shouldn’t have been, but after eleven trips to Home Depot and two freakout moments the yard looks great. Caleb always says the meltdowns in the middle of a DIY project are essential- part of the process he says. Maybe he’s right. It always seems like right after the meltdown happens everything just falls in line.

The easter bunny brought Mayne an ole cheap plastic kiddie pool like we played in as kids. He spends every afternoon naked in the pool after his naps. You only have a few years in life to hang out naked in the yard without the neighbors judging you or calling the cops. Just letting him live it up.

We spent Easter weekend surrounded by family at my uncle’s Inn up in the mountains of Tennessee. It’s become a family tradition now & one that we all cherish dearly. It’s such a beautiful thing to see multiple generations of a family spending the weekend around a fire pit, swapping stories, & doting on Bobbie Jean (Mamawl). The legend who we all owe gratitude for our existence. At 93 she still cooks most of our holiday meals without much help from anyone. I wonder what it feels like to sit on a front porch rocker & watch three generations of family you created just living & loving one another. It has to conjure up quite a monumental feeling.

Speaking of family, my brother Jake turned thirty this month. I feel old and proud at the same time. If he’s in his thirties it means I’m rounding the corner to 40 in a few years. How did this happen? I have no idea, but I’m glad to be here.