At the end of March, I wrote a reflection on our first two weeks of quarantine. It was the beginning of spring and the beginning of an alternate reality that, though we didn’t know it at the time, would still largely be our reality many months later. And here we are, many months later. While so many aspects of our life remain in that shifted state – masks on, sanitizer at the ready – a significant milestone took place this week when our kids returned to preschool after five and a half months at home. With that, an acute season of our life closed, and I wanted to record a few more reflections here. I’ve often said that one of my least favorite things in life is trying to work when my children are around. I hate it. It leaves me exhausted and irritable, feeling like I failed at being both a parent and an employee, and since becoming a mom I have put structures in place to avoid it whenever possible. I like to think I’m not a distracted parent, and perhaps that’s why trying to do focused work on my computer while my children are clamoring for my attention feels so icky and alien to everything I try to cultivate in our family life. Even aside from my life as a parent, I think it’s the Enneagram 5 in me that makes me highly value compartmentalizing my work life and my personal life, and wrapping things up cleanly before I transition from one to the other. (Trying to do something for work on my phone while my kiddos are in the room is literally the stuff of nightmares for me.) Anyway. All that to say that after our preschool closed, John and I knew attempting to juggle two

As I’m sure so many of you experienced this weekend, to me, the truth of Easter has never felt so immediate, so needed, so poignant, so prominent as it did this year. In the midst of such pain, it’s clear that this world is not as it should be. What a beautiful and welcome message that the worst thing is never the last thing – and that hope is the very surest thing. Stripped of much of the dressing, removed from our church home, and without even the usual space to contemplate (hello, small children!), this weekend didn’t feel as “set apart” as holy occasions often do – but, God still made his truth known. While this Easter will always be remembered as unlike any other, in many ways, it looked like so many Easters we’ve experienced together, especially living so far from our families. I thought I’d share a little peek, if you’d like to see! On Saturday morning, I did our usual grocery run, this time with mask in place. Had to document this very surreal, now semi-normal, occurrence. Then we headed out for a family bike ride – we’ve done one for the last few Saturday mornings, now that the weather is warmer, which has been glorious! After naps and quiet time, the boys planted a last bush in our back bed (lantana! come on, butterflies!) and the girls painted wooden eggs. Then, we headed to a woodsy path in our neighborhood to cut down a branch for our Easter tree. We ended up cutting down a rather large branch (it was quite a production carrying it back), but it certainly made a splash on our table. Here it is in action on Easter morning, pre-eggs being hung! After the baskets were unpacked and enjoyed (the watercolor