I am aware that we are in the sweetest of sweet spots in our family’s life. It’s rather unfashionable to say so – the more correct thing to say is that there is beauty in every season, and that we shouldn’t elevate one over another – but sometimes unfashionable things are also true. Of course (of course!) there is beauty in every season: I fully expect to delight in our family when everyone has graduated from elementary school, when we have teens, and when kids are home on college break. I will relish the days when we can all huddle around the same game board and no one is whining to be carried on a hike. And yet: so many people say that the years between six and twelve are the golden ones for family life, and I can see why. Our kids are squarely within our sphere of influence. They like our home the best and spending time together the most. They don’t have phones or computers – there’s no algorithm shaping, splintering, spoiling their psyches. They’re growing more capable every day and look out for each other while on the go. They’re full of questions and eager for answers, willing accomplices, sweet and genuine and unguarded. They smile and hug and snuggle and hold our hands. They also bicker, and vehemently express outsize opinions about inconsequential things. They complain and whine and dawdle and melt down. I lose my patience and come down hard in the wrong places and make the more expedient choice instead of the one I know is better in the long-term. This is family life, with all of its joys and furies. This is our life together, and here I am to mark one more year in its span: to pin it down in