For the past few years, the Scribe Winery pickup party has fallen on Mother’s Day weekend. It’s becoming a bit of a tradition to spend at least part of the day picnicking on the hillside, looking out on Sonoma.
This year, some good friends happened to come out as well, and it was really wonderful connect about this particular moment in our lives—these “longest, shortest years.”
I’d recently read a New York Times article, “The Birth of a Mother,” which talks about “matrescence.” “Becoming a mother,” it suggests “is an identity shift, and one of the most significant physical and psychological changes a woman will ever experience.” With seven children between the three of us, we agreed that nothing is quite like that first leap—indeed, it’s as if there’s a chasm between those pre- and post-kids identities. And as it grows wider, you can look back across but you’ll never return to the other side.
It was nice to acknowledge that shift, all the while celebrating my current footing.
I’d leap a million times over for these kiddos.
Here are some more favorite photos of mine from Sunday. Aron and the kids made breakfast (after letting me sleep in), with all the yellow mango of my dreams. And we went to the arboretum—as we have most years—to visit the Ruth Storer garden.
We finished the day with bellies full of giant ice cream sundaes at Fenton’s—a way of thanking them for making me a mom.
P.S. Another Mother’s Day at Scribe, and a Mother Mag celebration I attended there last Wednesday!
My dress is by Moulinette Soeurs from Anthropologie, a few years back. Thanks for asking!
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