38

I turned 38 this month. I’m not sure what my younger self envisioned I’d be doing by this point in life, but I know I never expected for it to be THIS.

Living and working in a tiny house with a lil’ family.

Sharing an office (in the living room) and a 10 year-old car with my husband and loving it that way.

Finding new grays and lines regularly without being bothered by them (yet). Running a small business that — for better or worse— is all my own. Listening to my child (I have a child! I still can’t believe it!) casually say things like, “I love you too, Mommy,” as he confidently steps out the front door with his father.

Rejoicing at how lucky I am to still have my beloved best friend, StanLee, curled up by my desk during the day, and perched below my side of the bed at night— often with Sophee enjoying him as a pillow.

THIS is not glamorous.

It’s constantly in need of a paint job, a watering, a trim, a disclaimer, a refresher course, and a tune up. It’s covered in dog hair, applesauce, sweat, sand, and muck. It’s pulsing with epic worry, guilt, embarrassment, foolish earnestness, and unrelenting mistakes.

But it’s also overflowing with immense love. It all just makes me feel so much happiness.

As this blog is a major part of my business— and my work is a source of purpose and joy in my life— I wanted to take a quiet, reflective moment to thank you for reading along.

Above: My book, Small Space Style, at Late Sunday Afternoon.