Signed into the old blog today (ETA: two weeks ago actually, when I began this blog post). Had to blow off about an inch worth of dust and the WordPress login page creaked upon me pressing enter like the sound effects in the first few seconds of Boris Pickett’s Monster Mash, but here we are. Hi! Hello. What does one say after quietly stepping away for close to a year? Ya know what, let’s not be too melodramatic about it. After all, I still had Instagram. Let’s just begin.
We’ve had a big chunk of winter, spring, and a summer since I’ve been gone in which much life was lived. It was the first winter that I chose to like, and something about that actually worked–until like February, anyway. Year two of gardening took place (zinnia and tomatoes are the stand-outs this year) and another trip to the lake and the Jersey shore (where I captured one of my favorite moments ever–bump right a few times for it in video form; worth it), lots of food cooked–most of which is escaping my mind at the moment though I did make that viral Tiktok baked feta pasta the other day when I found myself with an abundance of garden tomatoes that I didn’t want to waste (it was good), lots of books started, emphasis on started, lots of anxiety and sadness felt (you too? I’m betting.), and lots of quiet, reflective moments of deep joy too. The kids are older–Nathaniel, 28, Jordan, 26, William, 21, Lindsey, 19, Parker, 10, and Anders 6–nearly 7, taller, and the ever changing landscape of parenting is still, well, ever changing. I’m homeschooling again, year two, and am deep in teaching Anders to read which is at times infuriating and also a total gift. I’ve never really taught someone to read, so how cool to do it with the caboose of the Hunt family. Parker is working independently quite well in ways he didn’t last year, head down in his language arts or math while I go over the various functions of the silent “e” for Anders. I still occasionally, when they’re playing nicely, exclaim, “who’s your best friend?!” to both of them and have the cockles of my heart positively warmed to the max when they each shout back the other’s name. If there was ever a time to use that cockles of one’s heart phrase, it felt like this was it. (There’s a lot of fighting too. I don’t ask them that question during those times.) I’m plugging into the homeschooling community this year in a way last year didn’t allow for, and the boys are, right now, running through the woods with a few other homeschooled kids looking for edible mushrooms. Hopefully they’ll remember enough to teach dear old Mom when the world really goes belly up and those edible mushrooms are our dinner.
The world feels fraught with division, but you know what? I don’t want to address any of it right now, right here. It’s everywhere. Who wants to read about it here? If I could see through my screen I’m suspecting that there would be a collective raising of tired hands, tired eyes, and a quiet sigh of relief. I was reminded over the last many months, that people are still good, really good. Beautiful interactions are happening at every single corner, every aisle of the grocery store, so on and so forth, but we’re not reminded of them often. By way of most media? Almost never. In any case, I’d like to send love to those for whom the last year was a real bear. Can I do that? I know there’s many of you, for various reasons, and so–however one sends it, receives it through space… please know I’m giving it.
Steve and I are coming up on 15 years of marriage. 15 years! This is shocking to me, but also a really comfortable thought? No pretense, no drama, just really good friends, lovers, and partners in this wonderful, crazy life. I’ve heard marriage gets better with time, and, in my case, this has proven to be true. While, of course, we still drive each other crazy, the nice thing about being married this long is that I know I’ll like him again. Big fights early on–those fights where you literally don’t like the person you’re married to–left me feeling insecure: I don’t like this man at all. In fact, I might even hate him. Oh gosh. What does this mean? Now I know it means very little. Love runs deeper than all of it and I’ll like him again soon. What a beautiful discovery. And so it goes. I’ll be 37 my next birthday, also shocking, but feeling like, if my skin were an outfit, it’s a more comfortable one all the time.
A favorite season is upon us, where every day, every drive, every walk is a literal feast for the eyes. Outdoors is calling to me, White Mountains are calling to me, it’s all calling to me. I’m pulled to the third floor to check some homeschool boxes, but let’s not overdo it during this once-in-a-lifetime season that, seemingly against all odds, we get to experience every year. If I don’t publish this post soon, one that I’ve been adding to and removing from for the last two weeks, it’ll be winter. Leaves gone. Then I’ll have to start from scratch.
The boys are tall, tall, tall. Legs growing longer overnight. I look at them when I wake up in the morning, while they’re still deep in sleep and I wonder, “did their legs stretch that close to the end of the bed when they went to sleep last night?” When does the growing actually happen as I have eyes on them nearly every moment of their precious lives? I don’t have the answer, and so it goes. Anders was recently despondent for various reasons only a six year old is despondent. Big feelings, the brink of tears, overtired, and trying hard to hold it together, I asked him, “do you just need to have your love tank filled?” It was like you could see the weight grow lighter immediately. He sunk into my chest and said, “thanks for asking if I needed my love tank filled.” I think we all could probably use that right about now.
I’ll end with a quote from the amazing Ram Das that I’m certain I’ve used here before, and one I use frequently enough that now my sister teases me with it, knowing just when it’s on the tip of my tongue with a deep sigh as it has been during many a conversation over the last many months: We’re all just walking each other home.
Dear Bridget,
I’ve been following your blog since 2013, and come here on random days. Your long write-ups are really heartwarming and you’re one rockstar of a mum and you know it. I have two daughters (13 and 11) whom I clumsily raised, but are turning out to be beautiful people and are actually mothering me in many ways now. Your post on loving and liking has stayed with me among manty others, and I have since then found myself asking the question about people and also myself.
Only last week I checked here and found that you hadn’t blogged since Jan 2020 but didn’t worry much as I know it’s normal for people to move to greener pastures (Read: Instagram) Today I again checked on a whim and it was totally worth it. 🙂 Your take on marriage and parenting is refreshingly honest, to use a cliche, but that’s how I feel about it.
Hmm, that’s all I wanted to tell you, sitting over here thousands of miles away. I am sure your words will help many (including me) walk home peacefully.
Love,
Deepa
“Actually mothering me in many ways now” — oh, isn’t that the most beautiful sentiment. I saw this recently, and it has stuck with me: that our kids are really, in a sense, watching us grow up too. Isn’t that so true? Anyway, blessings on you and your daughters. Thank you Deepa. I’m really grateful for this kindness after many months away.
(Oh, and which post on loving and liking did I write?! I want to know!)
About your daughter Lindsay! 🙂 On one of her birthday posts, 11th I think… That you know you will always love her, but you also actually like her very much. I remember very well. It revealed what a deeply thinking AND feeling person you are. P.S. And this is alos something i use on my unsuspecting husband all the time…”you love me but you don’t like me”, and he retorts…”yeah keep yelling like that and like hell i will like you.” 😛
This was so refreshing to read. Like those 2010 days where blogging was big and recaps were common. I miss those days. And yes to all the things you mentioned. Tired, overwhelmed, yet I’m noticing a kind and helpful trend everywhere also. It’s wonderful and it’s where I try to put my focus also.
Anyway, homeschooling year 2 for us as well and it’s wonderful…..and some days tiring. But I try to remember what an absolute gift it is to be able to do this.
Such a gift, homeschooling is. And I only hope that those kindnesses continue to grow. They’re life-giving when I see them.
Bridget, I don’t know that I’ve ever commented before, but I’ve been reading your blog for what feels like forever and I just wanted you to know that I missed your writing! I don’t have Instagram, so it really has been a long time since I’ve heard what’s going on in your world. I completely understand when bloggers decide to move on to other mediums, but just know that if you decide to continue to write, you have a reader here in Maine who appreciates your thoughts.
Thank you Phoebe.
Oh welcome back! I hope you continue blogging as your blog was always one of my faves! I know what you mean about the kids legs growing ALL THE TIME. My 9 year old seems to have endless legs and I am constantly buying new trousers to fit 🙂 Bittersweet
New trousers every few months for Parker at this point. Stop it!
Love this, Bridget! The part about marriage resonates deeply with me. We’re in year 15 too, and I’m also having a greater appreciation for those ebbs and flows, ups and downs. The hard moments come, but I know the good seasons of enjoying each other and catching eyes across the room and being so grateful that we keep choosing each other will come back around in time. Thanks for putting words to it so beautifully!
Isn’t it so comforting? And man those times left me so insecure in the beginning!
Love you so much!
Beth, thank you, always.
I’ve been reading your blog about 9 years now! Your honesty on marriage and life really resonates with me! I live near Santa Barbara and everytime I see your blog, I consider moving to the East Coast near family in Maine! I love the leaves, the old world charm, the lake visits! All of it is so inspiring. And then I look at CA landscape and no seasons and cringe. No, I know CA has it’s beauty but it is few-and-far between compared to forests of rich color and delights!
But, one thing I would love to read. Okay, I’m putting a request out there! I know your husband is a professor in religion, correct? I would love to read your thoughts on religion. The after life or not, the questions you might have or unanswered ones. I struggle to find my path in a religious sense and would so desire your real honest approach to the big life questions about God.
Perhaps you have already written a post about it! I’m not sure. Welcome back to blogging on your wonderful blog. And please note, that I respect it when people need to step away. It is good for the soul.
I love it here, and I’ve come (or, more appropriately put, am still coming) to love the seasons… namely that long late winter. But CA! So stunningly beautiful with your rolling hills and sunsets over the ocean, and national parks! Anyway, I love your request, and will try to piece something together about my thoughts on faith and all. It’s nuanced and ever changing and gray, so much gray! Steve is a religion professor, yes! Maybe he should write it ◡̈
Oooo I have read this with a big smile on my face. It’s so good to hear about your family again. I’m 28 weeks pregnant at the moment and the last couple of weeks I have read a lot of your old posts. I have read them before of course but it feels different now. So in a way, you’re mothering me 🙂 It’s big and scary but also AWESOME and I can’t wait till he is here (it’s a boy). Thank you for updating us! I collected many chestnuts already and my plan is to make a alphabet on it. So when the baby is older, he can play and learn with them!
X
Ohhhh congratulations!!! I’m glad those old posts are still coming in handy!
Hi Bridget,
Lovely to read your blog today. I have always found it so uplifting and helpful. Thank you!
Amy (UK)
Welcome back!
I’ve been here since the early days, the pre-Parker days, and wow it feels like I’ve literally watched your kids grow up. What a different time that was, a different world. Thank you for the same safe, nostalgic, genuine space all these years later.
so happy you are here.
We chat thru Instagram DMs… you have been a rock to tether my boat to. Your blog has carried me in dark hours, your spirit lifts me. Today you captured my heart once more. Thank you for being here and there…ig
well, I’m crying. Thank you, Trisha Ann.
How is it that some simple words can feel so comforting? So glad to read yours today, Bridget. For some reason, fall always reminds me of returning home, so it seems like a fitting time to find you here. I, too, have been around since pre-Parker, and it’s funny the nostalgia one can have for people and families, even those we might never really know. Loved reading the updates of your crew. Mine are 7 and 4, and it’s such an unexpected gift to parent alongside some of the women I follow – you included. The tender, refining work of motherhood bonds in ways I’m still realizing, I think.
Also, you may want to take a look at Cup of Jo’s recent post on memories of kindness. I read the comment section last night, and there was such a sense of humanity and connection. I didn’t quite know how much I needed to see it. Walking each other home, indeed.
I really feel like I have so many dear women as friends through this space, and I only wish I could spend some time with you in person.
I will check out that post! I too am in need of all the humanity I can get these days.
Can we all just leave IG and get back to the blog world!?? 💛
i’m in!
Teaching someone to read is so hard! Last year when my daughter was in 1st grade and doing school in a hybrid situation I was helping teach her to read. Her teacher was the real rock star with the actual lessons and I was just having her practice reading at home. I think the hardest part for ne was the fact that I already know how to read so seeing someone not be able to read the words that I can was frustrating, But man, when they can read a whole page in a chapter book by themselves, it’s awesome.
This post is as joy bringing and comforting as a phone call from one of my close friends whom I haven’t spoken to that much because “life” but then, whenever it happens we are laughing, crying, debating, commiserating and feeling genuinely happy for and with each other as if it was yesterday. Thank you, as always, for taking the time to write it, for your beautiful words and the comfort and humanity they offer for me and all the love to you and your family ♥
That’s such a lovely sentiment — a phone call from a close friend. Thank you, Licia! I always love hearing from you.
You are a balm to the weary. I truly love your writting, your heart and soul. Watchi g you learn to loce winter this past year was a blessing and a much needed lesson …Im still learning. But your herevreminding me to be alive. Thank you as always for being here … On social so honest and vulnerable ever growing over all tgese years. You are a blessing to me. Xoxo
Thank you Marcia! As we enter another winter… I’ll try to hold you accountable to choosing to embrace it with an open mind, heart, and hand! This was such a kind message. Thank you, thank you.
Keep writing, B. You have such a comforting and grounding voice. I’m so here for the long-format blogging again. Feels like a nice deep belly breathe. And what you said about marriage, so with you on that. Amazing to experience growth not just as people but to witness the maturation and growth of a relationship. Lots of love to you!
Thank you Jen! Long format blogging is where it’s at!
Bridget! I’ve read your space here online for most of my adult life! Mirroring yours, I’ve gotten married, had babies, made a home in NE. During all of it, what a comfort your writing has been. It’s strange to feel a kinship with someone who doesn’t know you, but that’s the power of words I guess. I just wanted to write a note to you to let you know that your blog really touches many and in this world where Instagram’s perfect boxes and loudness of news headlines prevails, it’s a deep breath to read what you have to say…Motherhood is so beautiful, but sometimes lonely… thank you for making it less so. ❤️
Gosh, thank you Britt. Your comments and kindness have always meant a great deal to me. Thank you for being here.
too good Bridget!! I’ve been following your writing for a while now but now that I know you in real life a little better from the studio etc. I can hear your voice as i’m reading and it is just so cool! Love it. Please keep writing!
hiiiii Katara!!! xoxo
I have missed you! Glad you posted. You are my go to blog to read❤️
Thanks for catching up with us! Everyone looks so grown (and beautiful and handsome!) Are you still doing a family bed? We started homeschooling and often sleep in same bed (although by kids are 6 and 7) but I sometimes worry that I am keeping them too close to me and not teaching enough independence. Parenting is confusing.
We are still doing one! Parker occasionally sleeps in the guest room when he wants some space– but usually sticks with the family bed, knowing that whenever he’s over it, he can have his own room! And he’s well aware that his friends aren’t all in a family bed (though, some are)– and that it’s what our family has chosen to do, but some friends might tease if they knew. He gets it. My two cents, not that you asked for it–don’t worry about independence. It all comes when they’re good and ready and usually at just the right time.
I would so love to hear more about homeschooling. Highs, lows, curriculum, etc…. Considering it for our family next year!
So refreshing to see a blog post. I just love them so much more than social media. Thanks for putting in the effort. 🙂