The kids were focused, squinting in the sun as they poured water from the hose into the sandbox that had been transformed into a general mud pit in our backyard. They jabbed toy dinosaurs into the sand and grabbed super hero action figures, yelling dialogue and narration to one another during their daring rescue. I squinted too, trying to find the slightest bit of toddler left in their faces. It’s all gone in big bro’s, and barely a glimmer left in his little brother’s. They’re muddy, rough and full of noise and sass. They’re all boy, no longer baby.

This week, we took another step up the staircase of parenting, and while I reluctantly let go of the chubby toes and bulky board books of toddlerhood, I realize what’s ahead is so exciting. We’ve reached the sweet spot. That place where our kids still want us around and love to cuddle up to a movie on the couch but we don’t need to change diapers or bring anything more than a couple of water bottles when we leave the house. They play for hours on end with one another. They don’t have to go down for a nap. Best of all, they’re old enough to go on a hike, or spend a day sledding, or play at the beach. Our interests are colliding and they bring fresh new eyes to every activity.

This week, Big Bro turned seven. He reads above his grade level, he writes his own stories in his spare time, his imagination has no bounds, and he gets more curious about the world every day. It hasn’t been easy to answer all of his questions this past year, but he has taken every challenge, change and scare in stride, adapting and learning at every turn. While I hope year seven takes it easier on him, I know he can overcome any obstacle.

“Baby” Bro turned four. He will never pass up an opportunity to tell a poop joke, he draws better than I do, he’s fearless in the face of adventure and he’s still my little snuggle bug at bedtime. While he has less of a sense of what’s going on in the world around him, his laid-back personality lets him go with the flow and adjust to schedule disruptions and transitions quickly. His new sense of independence will have him taking year four by storm and doing things his way.

Mom and Dad are going to enjoy every minute with these goofballs.

Once a year, I like to brag about this state’s unique ability to provide the fun of a winter wonderland and the comfort of 70-degree weather all in one day. We recently took our annual trip just three hours north of our Phoenix suburb home and lucked out once again with a blanket of snow and another perfect sledding hill discovery. The boys had so much fun with their cousins, and even our three-year-old (who decided not to participate in winter last year) was sledding head first, screaming with delight. For anyone else interested in a sledding day-trip or weekend, here are some of the best spots in the state:

Sunrise Ski Resort– This resort in Greer, AZ offers skiing, snowboarding and a hill for tubing (the tubing hill is currently closed due to COVID) but there are a few places to pull off HWY 260 to enjoy a day of snowy fun!

Flagstaff– Our first few Arizona sledding trips were to Flagstaff, but some of the popular sledding spots including Crowley Pit and the Wing Mountain Snow Play Area (off HWY 180) are now closed. Flagstaff’s sledding map breaks down all of the best places and you can check the snow status through their hotline at 1-844-256-SNOW.

Mt Lemmon– This peak in Tucson, AZ is home to the southernmost ski resort in the country, Ski Valley. Sledders pull off Mount Bigelow Trail or recreation areas between miles 19-22 on the Catalina Hwy.

Williams– The Oak Hill Snow Play Area near Williams, AZ makes great use of an old skiing slope from the 1950s. When the conditions are right, it can make a daytrip up Route 66 memorable for everyone.

When the kids woke up this morning, you would’ve thought there was two feet of snow on the ground. “Is school going to be cancelled?” asked my six-year-old. They rushed to the windows, peering out into the pouring rain.

That’s right. Rain.

I can’t blame them. It’s been 110 days since we’ve seen measurable rainfall. My three-year-old came running into the kitchen from the front room yelling, “It’s raining in the front yard too!” I rushed around looking for waterproof jackets that still fit or a working umbrella. I listened to their chatter as they planned to splash in puddles. Then I paused, and took this picture.

It was a brilliant reminder of the lens through which they see the world- their curiosity, excitement and hope. It pushed away my thoughts of soggy backyard toys, road debris and muddy floors. I just listened, smiling.

As we start to say goodbye to a year riddled with challenges, anxiety and uncertainty, I’m going to look forward through that window- with curiosity, excitement, and hope.

It was 2009, and Drew and I had been dating for a couple of years. We were living in apartments in Panama City, Florida and working for the local ABC station. His parents had recently moved out to Arizona to join his sister, and mine were back in Virginia. We worked Thanksgiving Day and got off after most dinners had been done. We decided to watch a movie and order pizza, but a few quick phone calls confirmed all the restaurants were closed for the holiday. We cooked rice and ate, just the two of us. Our families were more than a thousand miles away in opposite directions. That was the day we decided to move.

For many people, today will go down as the worst Thanksgiving. But I look back at that lonely, sad, rice Thanksgiving with so much appreciation more than a decade later. The worsts make the bests that much better. They allow us to feel more thankful for what we do have, more gratitude for future days to come, and to realize what truly is important.

This year, I’m thankful for those important things; my family’s health, my beautiful boys, our delicious food, and the technology that lets us stay connected. I’m also thankful for that worst Thanksgiving, the one that pointed us home.

My worst investment of 2020? A popcorn perks membership at our local movie theatre. We saw Onward in January and haven’t been back since.

When the lockdown happened in March, my husband the film major took it upon himself to make movie nights happen again. Production quality guaranteed. He bought a projector and screen, we modified our sitting room and he’s been conjuring up his former Regal Cinemas employee popcorn-making skills to recreate the magic of the movies at home. And it’s become one of my favorite nights of the week.

Snuggling with the boys on the sofa, they lit up in excitement to watch new releases like Detective Pikachu and Sonic the Hedgehog. We started showing classics like Star Wars and E.T. We dove into the Disney archives to introduce them to The Lion King and Aladdin, although we went a little too far backwards in showing the original Peter Pan, and have since put a pre-screening requirement on anything Disney prior to 1970.

One of the best things about being a parent is experiencing moments for the first time all over again through a child’s eyes. With the weather getting cooler in the desert, we turned our backyard into a cozy campfire cinema. Our circle of Adirondack chairs with the screen mounted on our back wall and s’mores roasting over our fire pit. I think it’s my new favorite room in the house.

We may be missing out on that membership, but we’re not missing the magic of the movies. I’d argue it’s become even better.

It’s incredibly common. It happens in one in eight pregnancies and it’s happened to at least half a dozen of my close friends. The commonality doesn’t make it any less heartbreaking and the pain it causes makes it an easy topic to gloss over or bottle down inside. It’s happened to me. And yes, I never talk about it either.

In April 2013, I took a positive pregnancy test. Overjoyed at the prospect of having the baby we’d been trying for, I told my husband right away, taking video of his reaction on my phone. I set up my first ultrasound and envisioned telling my dad in person, when he was scheduled to visit that month. But soon after, I found myself doubled over in pain, losing a pregnancy. I was a little more than six weeks along.

I remember crying as I deleted the video from my phone. I didn’t tell my dad anything during his stay. We toured Sedona and celebrated my birthday and had a wonderful time while my heart broke on the inside. I wondered what was wrong with me.

I kept my appointment just to talk to a doctor and find out what happened and what I should do next. I remember the nurse checking me in with a smile on her face that faded into pity when I told her I was no longer pregnant. The doctor came in and handed me a box of tissues. And THEN I found out one in eight pregnancies end in miscarriage. That there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that there was nothing to worry about, that it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know. Because no one ever talks about it.

A month later, I was pregnant again. I spent the pregnancy doing everything by the book, taking every precaution and holding my breath. I tracked everything I put in or on my body for nine months. It may have been a little obsessive but a control freak likes to think they’re in charge and I didn’t want to feel that heartbreak ever again.

In February 2014, I had a healthy baby boy.

Since then, I’ve told several fellow moms as we share stories of the trials of conceiving a child. I’ve watched close friends lose their babies and I’ve offered my shoulder to cry on. But for the most part, I left my experience in the past, the only hint a well-placed object in the background of the photos during my pregnancy with my big boy… a rainbow.

I wrote this blog post years ago and never published it. To be honest I thought people would find it absurd that I grieved someone I never saw. There are so many other tragic stories, so many other babies who come so close to term or delivery and don’t make it. It seemed ungrateful to write about something dashed that was so fleeting. But I’d never want to dismiss anyone else’s pain, so it’s unfair for me to dismiss my own. My hope is that by talking about it, more women will feel a sense of community and compassion instead of isolation. I also hope that every mom struggling to conceive or dealing with the loss of an unborn child finds their rainbow after the storm.

For several years, we have spent fall break back east with my family, celebrating with hayrides, pumpkins and the crisp air of my very favorite season. I always get a little homesick around this time of year, but unfortunately because of the current pandemic a trip across the country has become a lot more complicated, and risky.

We decided to find our own fall here in Arizona. We rented an airbnb in Flagstaff, where the pines tower over the terrain taller than our mesquites, palo verdes and shrubs. We saw the colors change on maple trees, and collected acorns and pinecones. A hike in Buffalo Park gave us beautiful panoramic views, and a trip to Mortimer Farms near Prescott allowed us to enjoy cooler weather on a fun-filled farm.

Flagstaff isn’t the only place to find some fall flavor here in the desert. In the Phoenix East Valley, Mother Nature’s Farm, Vertuccio Farms, and Schnepf Farms all offer the fun of hayrides, pumpkin-picking and more, at a shorter distance from the city. In Southern Arizona, Apple Annie’s has apple-picking and a pumpkin patch.

So, whether you’re looking for a short day-trip to scratch that autumn itch, or a long weekend to bask in the brisk air and see the colored leaves, you can find fall in Arizona. You just have to know where to look.

In this crazy world of parenting, especially now, it’s important to create a community for support. Find your moms who can give advice, ideas and make you laugh and don’t let them go. We’re all clambering through the process of turning tiny humans into functioning adults. We might as well have some company along the way.

In addition to a few resourceful Facebook groups and hyperlocal influencers, I follow several accounts that either provide fun inspiration, reassuring and relatable humor, or solid answers and advice:

Big Little Feelings – Run by child therapists, this account is a great go-to for anyone with kids ages 1-5. Managing tiny tantrums and finding gentle and practical ways to encourage healthy emotional development is their specialty. Their Instagram Stories provide a two-way resource for parents with questions and relatable moments to share.

IMomsoHard– Two professional comedic writers and entertainers, Kristen and Jen share all the good, bad and bizarre there is to know about being moms. After their video featuring the two of them trying on swimsuits went viral, they started touring and most recently launched a special on Amazon Prime. I saw their live show in Phoenix and it was hilarious! They give me the laughs I need to get through motherhood.

Bunmi Latidan– This poetic soul has spirituality to help you through tough times and a sarcastic, raw sense of humor to get you through the worst. Creator of The Honest Toddler blog and author of Toddlers are A$$holes, Confessions of a Domestic Failure, and her most recent book of poetry, Dear God, she’s a force of motherhood that has surely helped many others along the way.

Dude Dad– This vlogger is a fun-loving handy-dad who specializes in home projects, engineering hijinx, sketch comedy and more. He’s launching a new show called Super Dad on Magnolia Network, and I think it says a lot about him that he posted individual shout-outs and photos with each member of his production crew, showing his appreciation for them.

Kids Eat in Color– This account is run by a dietician and public health expert with picky eaters! She shares tips and tricks for parents to provide the best food for their kids. With cookbooks, meal plans and more, there are a lot of resources to choose from. My favorites are her colorful infographics that make choosing snacks or portion sizes easy.

Do you have a favorite account not listed? I’d love to hear about it! Comment below!

Maybe it was the lack of sleep. I was in the middle of yet another bedtime battle with our adorable three-year-old who still climbs into our king-sized bed at around 3am like clockwork and proceeds to kick us in the face while flailing inadvertently in his sleep until dawn. He’d already gotten a drink of water, several snuggle friends, listened to half a dozen lullabys, and he sat up and said to me, “My bed’s not comfortable.”

He was sleeping in a toddler bed which had been converted from his crib and I knew it was only a matter of time until we upgraded his room from the nursery woodland creatures to something a little more exciting. I started shopping for beds.

Not finding the exact style loft bed that I was looking for online or in local store websites, I turned to Facebook Marketplace and found the perfect loft bed, low enough for my big guy to climb in and out. I purchased it and went with my father-in-law and his truck to pick it up. Unfortunately, when we returned, we found a broken tailgate and never found a quarter of the bed. Even with the head and foot gone, I still couldn’t bring myself to let go of the idea of this particular loft bed. It’s nothing that a little lumber, stain, hardware and carpentry can’t fix! I spent the next two weekends and a quarter of the cost of the bed attempting a DIY repair before pieces of wood split during assembly and I dragged the whole pile to the trash.

Suddenly, the beds online looked more appealing. I purchased one from Amazon and waited with anticipation for our package to arrive. It never arrived. We were notified it was damaged in shipping, just miles from our house. It was the last in stock. Back to the marketplace I went.

After purchasing three beds, we finally had one! While my big guy enjoyed bouncing, I enjoyed redecorating, taking down the woodland decor that I’d spent the last six years admiring while rocking and nursing, changing and giggling. My nursery is gone.

My big guy still climbs into our bed every night at 3AM. And I think I’m okay with that.

Two weeks before my first grader’s first day of school, I received an email with his virtual schedule. My eye immediately started twitching.

At this point, most parents are in the same boat and we’ve been bailing buckets of water out of it since March. School start dates have become as flexible as our remote work dress codes, and it’s likely we’ll all be doing at least a few weeks of virtual school facilitating. For early elementary schoolers, that means logging on, queuing up live meets, printing worksheets (which thus far has actually been my greatest challenge,) checking spelling, managing meltdowns, and turning in all of that finished work at the end of each day. But, we’re not going to give up. I’m as persistent as I am a perfectionist, so I took a look at that virtual schedule and took out a red pen.

Every family’s situation is different. In our household, my husband is back in the office most days, I’m working remotely full time, and we have part-time nannies in the afternoons to help. When it comes to tweaking the virtual schedule to suit our needs, I started with a series of questions:

1. Which components are absolutely necessary? Now is not the time for extra credit people. Especially if you’re juggling multiple children’s schedules, you have my sympathy and respect, and my full permission to skip the “brain breaks” or optional P.E and let them toss a ball outside instead.
2. Are live meets recorded? If so, you can do them anytime they’re convenient for your household. We only have afternoon childcare, so we took all the morning assignments and bumped them down in our schedule. Your school day happens from 8-3? Ours is from 1-6. They’re all learning just the same. If they’re not recorded, consider moving the assignments to more convenient times while keeping them grouped by subject.
3. Are pants required? Your school may differ on this one, but in our house we require pants. However, pajamas have definitely become acceptable school attire. The only time you’ll see my son in a button-down this year is in that photo. Some battles are not worth fighting.
4. How can I manage the time? We’ve got several live meets throughout the day and with a three-year-old who is no longer attending preschool, we’ve transitioned into a sort of sprint school. My son works for an hour and then plays for a couple hours, returns to school work and so on. I’ve set reminders on our Alexa so we know when to log on for a live class, and she keeps us on schedule for snack time and clean-up as well. I just have to hope he’s applying what he’s learning to his lego-building and pokemon playing. Which brings me to the last question I asked myself.
5. What subjects can I supplement? I was half-joking when I’d tell my friends my son is now learning science through cooking in the kitchen and physics through Lego-building. Maybe it’s the isolation of the pandemic getting to me, but when I say it now I’m not really joking. My son is reading the names of all the Pokemon on his playing cards, and they’re three-syllable words. We’re using his interests to reinforce math and spelling. I’ve always been a strong believer in the educational value of play and purpose-driven learning, and I think at this point if his education at home doesn’t look the same as it does as school, he’ll still turn out just fine.