Magical Birthday

Last month we attended the birthday party for a 3 year old friend of E’s. All of us mamas in that group are crafty, so our gifts tend to all be homemade. It was a fairy birthday party so I thought this little fairy and 2 miniature fairy cakes would be perfect:


Each petal was cut out individually and then glued on. And the tops of the fairy cakes have little pink hearts. I was quite proud of my first painting job on a peg person!

Just Breathe

For those of you who are new readers and didn’t hop over from Une Vie Chic, for the first 2 years of my marriage I lived in Suffolk, UK. In sheep country. Yes, it’s as beautiful as your imagining. And slower. Most shops close at 5, a lot of places aren’t open on Sundays. And it was lovely. We both were emotional as we left, and the adjustment here took a while. The first time I walked into an American grocery store after 2 years, I literally panicked from too much overload.

Not a month goes by that one of us doesn’t say “I want to go home.” (Okay, sometimes every week, but we’re improving.) Home for us isn’t where we were born and raised, though that did help shape us, but England. We moved back to the U.S., bought a house, had a baby, and now we’d like to take her home. However, most of our conversations are of further in the future. Maybe after G is out of the military and has his masters. Maybe we’ll go to Paris first (more jobs open there).

I expressed to him my concern that I feel like a person who may never get back to their home, and it instills a panic in me like no other.

During a conversation about life, family planning, where we’d be okay living in the future he finally mentions that a couple of spots have opened up on our old base. Just 1 of his rank, so a tiny little chance. He actually wasn’t sure I’d want to go, since he knows that it would be a huge undertaking (getting rid of approx. half our stuff, selling the house, prepping the animals). I stared at him like he’d grown a second head. I told him, screw worrying, if it’s meant to happen, we’ll get it done.

It’s such a small chance. But I couldn’t sleep that night, and since I’ve felt like I’m constantly twitchy. We won’t know if he got the spot until June. But I’m putting it out there to the universe: we’d like a break. This last year has been heartbreaking and yet we made it through not broken. So we’d like to go home. We’d like a chance to raise our daughter at least for a little while in a place that isn’t so busy. We’d like to see her experience the Christmas Fayres and markets and the open spaces where they encourage you to just be.

I don’t know what the future holds except hope. And we’re holding on to a ton of that.


I wrote this a couple of weeks ago. Last week G asked me if I was sitting down, and then told me we got the spot. Only, instead of moving the beginning of next year, we actually need to move by the end of November. At the latest. So in the next 5-6 months we need to completely de-clutter our home, finish painting, pack, and sell our house. It’s a wee bit overwhelming I’ll admit. But we’re so very excited.

E is excited too. She’s not sure for what, except tea (which we’ve taught her there will be plenty of there). And ducks. Lots of ducks.

It’s insane and glorious and we just feel this immense joy over getting to go back. Now, off to get rid of all the things I don’t love enough to have it hinder our move!