I think I’m almost reading more now than I was during my MFA. I’m cranking through books, partially because I believe it’s a piece of my job and partially because the afternoons keep warming us into a sleepy state. Plus, today is Saturday, and I know no better way to rest than to sit and read a book.

When I finally peeled myself from the couch this morning, the girls and I went to run errands. We have a few birthdays coming up—tonight included—and we wanted to be prepared with little gifts. We came home, wrapped everything so it’s ready, and then we got ready for the evening.

Tonight we were invited to a cookout with some school families, not too far up the road. It felt like autumn by the time we left, so we all took sweatshirts and jackets and we could tell it would be pitch black dark by the time we were going home. The kids ate hot dogs and bounced on the trampoline and the adults traded funny stories. I came home with an extra kid in-tow.

These details are important to me because I keep pausing to remind myself exactly where I am in life: my kids are at the age of the childhood I really, really remember in my own past, these years of family gatherings and feeling so grown-up because you’re allowed to run outside after dark without supervision. I mourn it and I celebrate it almost every day, but sometimes I don’t even realize that’s what I’m doing because this part of life is also a blur.