July has had record heat for us: it’s been a challenge to navigate keeping the garden happy, the children from overheating, dinners from making the house a sauna, and our energy bill from skyrocketing. It’s months like these I feel my Swedish heritage reminding me I’m probably more genetically inclined to be a Viking in cold temperatures rather than these hot days.

To keep the household running, I’ve been keeping a daily to-do list in a small notebook I had lying around. It’s helpful to see tangible evidence of progress. Much of the work I do week-to-week is repetitive, which sometimes clouds my perception both of the passage of time and how much I get done.

Meals are one of these things that repeat a lot, but lately I’ve gotten creative with our meals: lots of Instant Pot and stovetop dishes that don’t require the oven. One recent exception however was a delicious leek bread my mom made and shared with all of us. It had goat cheese and Parmesan and thyme and was absolutely worth turning the oven on. Also, I accidentally made a nice-looking omelet and was so pleased with myself I had to take a picture.

I used to feel self-conscious about things like that: over the years I’ve gotten my share of half-joking, half-snide comments about taking pictures of food, or outfits, or other random things that catch my eye. But I’ve gotten to the point where I’m determined not to bridle my delight. Life’s too short to pretend I don’t get excited and happy about these little things, or to pretend I don’t enjoy documenting them.

Currently, this theme of choosing delight seems to be permeating my life. My children are the best at pointing it out to me: I think a child’s default state is one of wonder and delight.

I love watching Michael play: he makes up complex stories regarding Mama and Dad and Baby Bea, and his “friends from church”. He currently enjoys putting a peg doll he calls “Michael” in his cars’ driver seats and having Mama and Dad dolls sit in the back while he drives.

He often needs to be reminded to be gentle with his kisses and pats, but he really is the sweetest big brother. He loves to play with her and help wherever he can — with great enthusiasm.

Some other milestones I forgot to mention: he has learned to count to ten, and often does so with great enthusiasm, especially for games of hide and seek. He hasn’t quite grasped the concept of hiding in different places yet: when discovered, he goes straight back to his old hiding place for the next game. Michael also has hit the asking “Why?” stage: every request or new discovery invokes a cascade of “why”s.

Beatrice has hit the four month sleep regression: we recently had a few nights where she was up every hour — the past weekend was definitely a rough one. She still sleeps very well during the day, though she strongly prefers contact naps. She has this adorable tendency to hold her head/ears when she’s chilling in her bouncer. We’re slowly collecting a whole album of these photos.

She also recently found her toes. She wants to move so badly: she gets on her hands and knees (or even feet) and screeches with frustration when she doesn’t automatically start crawling. I’m bracing myself for an early crawler/walker…our house is nowhere near crawling baby proof so that’ll be a fun transition (and a problem for future me to handle).

The heat has made my fiber related hobbies take a bit of a backseat: it’s hard to enjoy working with wool or fabric when it’s so hot. But I did make an adorable little patch for Michael’s shorts and cast on yet another pair of socks (this time for me, in a self striping colorway inspired by Little Women). I also finished spinning the singles of my large combo spin I started way back in February. Those three bobbins hold 12 oz of wool. Onto the plying stage!

In the meantime, I’ve been continuing to chip away on some fiction writing in the quiet evenings. Beatrice has even been joining me, watching in fascination as I hold her and type one handed. I reached 15k in my project recently which felt like a pretty big milestone. Only a few months ago, I hadn’t really touched writing fiction since 2021. It feels good to get back into the swing of things, even if it’s mostly only for an audience of one (me).

I’ve really enjoyed revisiting the No Write Way podcast hosted by V.E. Schwab as a source of inspiration on craft. I’ve also enjoyed being more intentional with carving out time for reading: I recently finished Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson (why didn’t I read this sooner??) and Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake. I devoured John Scalzi’s Old Man’s War in a few short days, and I’m currently reading a collection of stories by Kelly Link and The Whole Brain Child by Dr Dan Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson.

In full honesty, it’s been a tough week. Between sleep regressions, teething, a high-octane toddler, a reaction to reflux medication, extreme heat advisories, and general life busyness, the exhaustion is heavy and clouds much of my outlook.

One of the ways I’m combating the melancholy is by taking pictures: capturing the small and beautiful moments that take place despite the exhaustion and the never-ending to-do list. Here are the ones at the top of my camera roll, and the moments of delight that prompted me to capture them.

I delighted in Michael enjoying his new balance bike and helmet, and making a nest of pillows in his living room play corner. He still loves the quilt we stitched together.

I delighted in the sweetness of Beatrice, snuggling and playing in the morning sun. Even when she’s uncomfortable, she’s got the sweetest coos and such a gentle, joyful smile.

I delighted also in some small changes in home and routine: I hung some number cards in the kitchen to practice counting with Michael, and we began lighting a candle during mealtimes. I got the idea from an account on Instagram (@holyfamilyhomestead). She coined the phrase “When the candle is lit, it’s time to sit”, which has helped Michael sit through our mealtimes with less fuss.

And I’ve delighted in my gallery wall and piano. I did some rearranging of art, and then I borrowed a songbook: Go In And Out The Window. It’s a book I had as a child: classic folk songs and nursery rhymes interspersed with pictures of art from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s a delight to the eyes and ears.

Michael and I usually choose a few songs and sing them together at the piano while he looks at the pictures: his current favorites are Farmer in the Dell, Down by the Station, and Bingo. My current favorites are Lavender’s Blue and The Skye Boat Song.

I’m grateful for the camera in my pocket, the moments it helps me capture, and this blog where I can meditate on these joyful things instead of ruminating on lesser things.

When people say you can’t get seasonal affective disorder in the summer, I laugh at them and tell them to live in the Central Valley for the months of June-August. We’ve had two weeks of solid 100+ degree temperatures, up to 115 degrees. All the windows and blinds are sealed shut against the heat, the garden wilts by 10 am, and there are only so many layers of clothing you can shed before being arrested for public indecency.

So, to battle my tendency to melt into a depressed puddle at this time of year, we came up with some creative ways to change up our indoor spaces or escape the heat. We took an IKEA trip with some friends who came up for a weekend and got some storage items we needed for Michael’s room (and a few toys for him too). It was the perfect excuse to do a bit of redecorating.

We removed the closet door and reorganized both his and Bea’s clothes: it has already made putting away laundry so much easier. The TROFAST units has made cleaning up so simple and Michael loves all the bins. I also hung one of my favorite art pieces in the corner (A print of Aslan, Lucy, and Susan by Loré Pemberton) and hung the hand-sewn bunting I made for Michael’s first birthday.

Michael already spends a lot more time playing in his room. I didn’t realize how much I enjoy creating kid spaces: rooms that are beautiful and whimsical but also fully kid friendly. I love making spaces beautiful: functional but with little magical details that catch the eye and delight the heart.

Here are some that I’m particularly fond of right now: the corner with Michael’s high chair, the Middle Earth tapestry hanging by our couch, and the newest addition to our gallery wall (a print of the Dawn Treader in a beautiful vintage frame).

We also took a family trip to the California State Railway Museum: it was Michael’s first time going, and he was absolutely enthralled.

We walked around for hours, enjoying the museum (and its stellar air conditioning) and letting Michael see the trains and play with the different interactive exhibits. He especially adored the third floor, which was completely dedicated to model and toy trains.

He wasn’t too sure about the “pretend people” (mannequins in period clothing) and didn’t prefer the sleeper car exhibit (which rocked and moved like a real train), but he still talks about the trains and constantly asks to read the train book we picked up at the gift shop.

The week of fourth of July was also 105+ with an excessive heat wave warning. Unfortunately, that meant none of us were up to Independence Day activities: BBQ and sparklers just weren’t appealing. It felt wrong to do nothing to mark it, however: so I tried my hand at homemade ice cream. I got an old fashioned ice cream maker and tried two different recipes. One was a quick one with just milk and cream and sugar, and the other was more labor intensive with a pre-cooked custard step: and of course, the more labor intensive one was absolutely incredible. I didn’t get any photos, but we all agreed that’s a recipe we need to save and make again.

Beatrice turned four months old and had a checkup with our doctor. She’s soaring into the 75th+ percentiles of height and head circumference and also hitting some six month milestones (rolling over both ways (though she definitely prefers her right side) sitting with some help, and supporting her weight standing with some help). She’s quite the overachiever, determined to keep up with her big brother.

We were grateful to escape the oppressive heat and spend the holiday weekend in Morro Bay with some good friends.

I joked that I was a Victorian woman with hysteria, prescribed a trip to the seaside for sea air.

We went to a delightful coffee shop and perused the bookstore next door. I love crowded bookshops with used books piled to the ceiling and knickknacks displayed on the shelves. They’re just so cozy — I could spend hours in them.

It was Michael’s first time at the ocean: he loved throwing rocks into the surf and looking for shells and pebbles with me. We rolled up our jeans and let the surf “kiss our toes” and jumped over bits of shells and seaweed. He loved every bit of it (except for sand in his shoes).

Before we left, we got to eat at Giovanni’s, which is one of my favorite places to eat. Their poke bowls and fish and chips are excellent, and Michael watched them select crabs and played in the giant shell.

We also celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary over the weekend. The past five years have been filled with more blessings than I can recount. I’m so grateful for my husband and for my marriage. He is strong and virtuous and kind and intelligent, and everything I have ever dreamed of in a husband.

I indulged myself by perusing our wedding photos, and I thought end this post by sharing some here, too.

Five years down, eternity ahead.