Not quite sure why, but I've always made a big to-do over my babes' second birthdays. I think it's because the first birthday is always a hallmark of survival more than anything else. We made it through the three-hours-of-sleep nights. We changed no less than 2400 diapers. The baby didn't choke to death during the "I put everything in my mouth" stage. Survival. But the SECOND birthday feels a bit more celebratory. Winnie is talking a mile a minute now, and has been singing Happy Birthday to . . .
Y'all, we sorta, kinda, really on accident rented our house with Airbnb three times this month. It all happened so fast. Earlier this year, I blocked the twins' birthday weekend on the Airbnb calendar but left all other October weekends open with the intention to book our home once, maybe twice, but that was pushing it. Then in a 24-hour whirlwind of activity—and before I had the sense of urgency to block the weekends—it rented three times for the first, third, and fourth weekend of October. . . .
Over the weekend, I camped out for several hours in Panera working on a project I'd been contracted to write. It was a busy afternoon, and the tables were almost full, but luckily, I snagged one right by the window. I'm not a people watcher by nature, but I did see two women around my age sitting across from me having lunch together and enjoying a conversation. As they finished their meal, I heard one woman say to another, "I could stay here all day and talk with you, but I know you have a busy . . .
Over the past few weeks I've found myself in tears and, y'all, I'm not a cryer. Just ask my best friends and they'll tell you I'm about as stoic as they come. But I've been thinking a lot lately about justice, about suffering, and about what it means to love well those who are hurting. A few days ago, I was rummaging around in my attic looking for the Halloween decorations and I found an old Christmas mantle piece that said Believe (yes, we mix our holidays together in the same box). Believe. . . .
I'm gonna go ahead and say that I think October is the busiest month of the year. Even more so than December, guys. At least at the holidays, people expect you to be spending time with your family or traveling, but in October, all bets are off. Attend this workshop, enjoy this autumnal hike, go to that field trip, participate in this sports tournament. ALL GOOD THINGS. But October is the month I have to lovingly remind myself to check my priorities, unravel busy, and try not to miss the beauty . . .