Bowen, baby head

And farewell, 2025.

It’s early in the morning, typing from my bed with one son on my left, lounging to an episode of Wild Kratts, and the other one is sleeping peacefully in his bassinet to my right. Flanked by two beautiful little men, watching the snow falling outside on Fox Cross. This is exactly how I want to spend a new year.

2025 was not for the faint of heart, atleast for us. I’ve decided to be wary of the years that end in “0” and “5” – none of them have done me any favors, pretty much as far back as I can recall. I need not elaborate on the woes of 2025, but rather I’ll focus on all that we gained: Bowen Thoreau.

Beau is warranted his own post, several in fact, but the shock of our lifetime which rocked us last spring turns out to be the one thing that kept me sane. Pregnancy? Hormones? These things are not a recipe for stability, but for me the necessity to turn inward, to prioritize my health and my wellbeing is actually what pulled me back from days wrought with anxiety and depression. One of my best friends at work claims that I lead with a fierce “justice engine”, and the unjust pain and suffering of others is what tends to calibrate my mental health. So last year’s national and world affairs wrecked me. And in every way that it did, Beau healed me in equal measure.

There are so many moments before Beau arrived that we will recall fondly. Our family dates are always top of the list, and a road trip to South Carolina to visit one of my best friends in Charleston and then stay with my sister and her family in Colombia was a highlight for us. We also watched Roux blossom from little boy to this curious, passionate big kid who has an empathetic heart and a penchant for knowledge – this year he changed the most. I have adult conversations with this little man, merely 4 years old, but his understanding of the world is centuries old. If ever there was an old soul, this kid is it.

And Scott and I? Our lives are what you would imagine with a young family, multiple jobs between us, a farm and animals to look after and a house that needs constant attention. Our nights on the couch with a binge-worthy show, popcorn and a cocktail have taken a backseat to falling asleep during nighttime books with Roux, to-do lists, and conversations that are broken up over the course of an entire evening as responsibility continues to interrupt us. But this is the season we are in, and at the end of the day, navigating this moment is what has made us even stronger no matter how different it looks. Such a gift it is to wake up every day and be so grateful that this person is the one who walks with you in this beautiful life.

So I’ll trade in all the exotic date nights for the looks we exchange when Roux says something crazy and new, or how in the middle of the night I can see the outline of Scott’s tall frame rocking Bowen back to sleep as he makes laps around our room. Those are moments that I hold close, the moments I hope to recall years down the road when I look back on 2025 and the early days in 2026.

I don’t have expectations for 2026. In my mind, that’s a safety mechanism for my emotional survival, and I live my life with the “prepare for the worst, hope for the best” mentality, which after only 5 days, seems to be fitting for the world we live in. I can only hope that my sons are protected by the quiet and steady 24 acres of Fox Cross, and that the love in this home both shields and prepares them for the worst that is out there.

Here’s to more light and love, a little more writing and a lot more adventure for us in this new year. Wishing you health and happiness, friends, wherever you are.