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.