The last little bit of January and the beginning of February have been anything but regular – snow and ice have thrown our schedules into disarray, canceling plans, constricting work time, harrying normal rhythms. But, as is so often the case, these challenges have come with obvious bright sides: hours of sledding, neighbor connection, cozy domino games, and extra chapters of Goblet of Fire. I know enough to expect more glimmers and more challenges as we finish out the month – but maybe with a little less wild weather :) On my calendar:— The Olympics! I anticipate having it on in the background for much of the month and turning up the volume when figure skating is on. I’m especially excited to watch this guy. (gift link!)— Valentine’s Day! It’s on a Saturday, but I’m planning to welcome the kids home from school the day before with a little surprise tea spread laid out on the table (likely store-bought, no shame there). Any excuse to use all those Southern Weddings cake stands ;) And the mailbox is still going strong!— My birthday! I’ll be coming off a weekday work trip to Texas and so want to give some thought as to how I can help it feel special and restful amidst the chaos of travel and returning home. What I’m loving right now:— You’ve probably seen me mention jump roping a few times recently. I am attempting to get into it as a cardio option, and it’s been fun to do it alongside the kids! We have this rope for me, this rope for June, this rope for Shep, and this rope for double dutch.— I shared these tiny gold hoop earrings on my Christmas wish list and ended up getting them for myself after trying them on in person

“To George Bailey, the richest man in the world!” This quote is how I intended to begin my 2025 Year in Review post, a staple of Em for Marvelous for over a decade. I’ve actually never missed recapping a year since I began, in 2012, the year John and I were married. But alas, here we are, and between Christmas magic, traveling to California to be with family, hosting family at our home, and weathering the flu, it simply did not happen. No matter. The year itself happened, and I am grateful for it. I am rich in every measurement that matters — my faith, my family, my community, my health — and several more besides: my home, my work, my passions. I am so grateful for the opportunity to dream about a new year, to make a few plans for it, and to live them forward day by day. And even more, to hold fast to the Christian faith that promises that the fullest life is found when we lay down our own vision for our life and agree with God’s vision, which may look similar and may look wildly different. In that spirit, here are a few of my goals for 2026. 1. Speak words of affirmation over John and my children. The power of life and death is in the tongue; I have seen how everyone around me can bloom with loving words and wilt in their absence. This is a hard one to measure or track and I don’t really intend to; instead, I want to spend a few minutes brainstorming what messages feel most important to communicate to each of my children and write a little list somewhere I’ll see it every day. I know keeping it in sight will help it flow from desire

Hello, friends! This last month has held multitudes. We spent the first half packing up our first home and the second half settling into our new home. We weathered the news of the original buyers backing out – and went under contract with new buyers – all while the movers shuttled our belongings between houses (a wild day). We’ve now met every neighbor on our cul-de-sac. We have loved walking to school most days. I have thoroughly enjoyed the process of purging, tossing on-the-fence items with glee and freedom. Our maple out the front windows has been ablaze and an abundance of squirrels are frolicking in the backyard with abandon. Megan McArdle once wrote about how young adults setting off on their own subconsciously expect to start at their parents’ standard of living – which is, of course, the standard their parents ascended to over a lifetime, and likely far from where they started as young adults. They want to shop at the same stores, eat the same foods, take the same vacations, and live in the same sort of house with the same sort of furnishings. When their budget or circumstances don’t allow them to continue in “the style to which they’ve become accustomed,” they can feel cheated. John and I had (and have) plenty of failings, but this was not one. I’ve written before about how we mostly reveled in our scrappy phase, that time of our lives when cardboard boxes were our coffee tables and splitting a Chipotle burrito was a grand night out. I’ve been thinking about this idea a lot lately, wondering about its relevance to my current predicament. I find myself impatient that our home does not feel like us, that it does not feel “finished.” Which, when I write it out, seems absolutely

The other day John and I were talking about what we’ll miss most, physically, about this home, our first home, and my answer was our front porch. It’s unusually deep, perched well above street level and tucked behind a mature tree. Shady and private enough to work from on even the hottest summer days, it also played host to dinner parties, friend hangs, and tables set for Articles Club. On its sturdy boards we carved pumpkins, played in the sand box, read chapter books aloud, ate lunch, set up the chess board, spit cherry pits over the railing, waited on siblings to return from play dates and grandparents to arrive from the airport. The string lights were magic; the wreaths hanging on the gates each December, a source of deep personal satisfaction. And I can still feel exactly what it was like to sit cross-legged under the spinning fan, cooing at baby June as she learned to roll on a soft blanket. We’d head out there after work and daycare and just chat — for an hour, easy. That porch was an aerie, a world unto itself in the most ordinary of places. While the glorious view below will not always be ours, the sweetness will be. On my calendar:— Seeing The Sound of Music with June! After a few false starts for her “experiential” 2024 Christmas gift, this is where we landed. We are both so excited for a night at the theater together.— Our fall family mountain trip, this year to Boone. We’ve had more trips than usual to WNC in the last few months but you won’t catch me complaining. These mountain weekends are always some of the sweetest of the year for our family.— A weekend in New England! I’m flying to a dear friend’s baby