Alternative post title: you probably already know this, but…
To whit: three recent revelations that have made a difference in my life, and might in yours, too.
Cottage cheese is actually… good.
Like many of our fellow Millennials, John and I are on a quest to add more protein to our diets. We’re drinking Chobani yogurt shakes, we’re eating grilled chicken, we’re switching to Banza, but it was only a matter of time before we came face-to-face with one of the most common protein-packing suggestions: cottage cheese. Pale, lumpy, suspicious-seeming cottage cheese.
Dubiously, I added some to my cart at the grocery store. We got it home, cracked open the lid, and set to experimenting.
In a surprising turn of events, we were immediate converts, and we both eat it almost daily now.
Some of our favorite uses: anywhere we’d have put sour cream (like on tacos). Anywhere we’d have put mayonnaise (like on a turkey sandwich or to bind egg salad). Mixed with hot sauce and spooned generously over grilled chicken chunks for a quick lunch. Mixed with everything-but-the-bagel seasoning or Hidden Valley Farms powder as a ranch-like dip for raw veggies. Blended with fruit compote and a little honey then frozen (seriously so good – it tastes like cheesecake!).
I know we are only at the beginning of our journey. Cottage cheese lovers, where should we head next?
If you want to move, wear athleisure.
While I know some of you would consider yourself recovering athleisure wearers, actively attempting to ditch the daily leggings and put on *real clothes* in the morning, as of this summer I’m a convert to the other side of the coin: ditching the jean shorts and underwire bras and embracing tennis skirts, tanks, and sports bras on a daily basis.
Why? Yes, it’s a bit more comfortable, but my main motivation was noticing how much more willing I was to move throughout the day when already wearing workout clothes: I was more likely to go for a quick walk in the morning or at lunch, to run some stairs, to squeeze in a quick workout, to do some squats and lunges on the sidelines of a soccer game, to go for that evening walk with John.
In a Southern summer, simply walking outside can cause instant sweating. Wearing a sports bra, in particular, makes it easier to accept this and move past it.
I have a sedentary job, and I know that’s not healthy. Moving throughout the day matters to me. Right now, it matters more than wearing a cute outfit and coordinating accessories. Opting for athleisure most days when it’s hot is a simple way to incorporate more of what matters on a daily basis.
And also, of course, it can be cute! You all already know about my game-changing tennis skirt and tank; my beloved Vuori tennis dress is also still going strong. My newest love is Eby bras, which marry the flexibility of a sports bra with the support and shape of a regular bra – no underwire required! I just ordered my second Relief bra yesterday and have signed up to be notified when the T-Shirt bra comes back in stock. Everything on their site is 25% off right now, too!
Packing is easier when you keep your electronics ready to go.
In the division of labor around traveling, John is the keeper of cords. He makes sure the devices that need to be charged are charged, and that both the devices and the chargers are then packed. In a modern household, this can be a lot, and gathering it all up each trip takes a small but not insignificant amount of time.
When I traveled for work this past spring, we unearthed some of our duplicate cords to ensure that both John and I would have a set when we were apart. I popped them all in a little pouch (shout out to a circa 2007 Vera Bradley number I unearthed in my closet) and tucked it in my backpack. When I got home — since these were all extras — I just left the pouch in my backpack. A few weeks later, when packing for a weekend away, it was a revelation to know that every cord was already accounted for.
Of course, I’m now scheming other ways we could put this revelation to use: duplicate toiletries that stay packed? Maybe some kid items? Let’s brainstorm in the comments.
And in case it’s helpful, here’s what’s currently in our electronics bag:
Now, over to you: any recent revelations in your life? Are you already a fan of cottage cheese, choosing athleisure on the daily, or keeping things packed for travel? I’d love to hear!
If you’re a Connected Family reader, you already know that our twentieth high school reunion was an incredibly memorable and completely delightful weekend. I waxed philosophical about it at length last month, so I won’t reprise it here — but I did want to share some of the logistical details in case you’re thinking of planning something similar! Much of what we did could be applicable to a girls’ trip, a bachelorette, or a special family adventure. I’d love to share a little bit about how it all came together and a few of the details that made it special. Let’s go!
Planning Timeline:
Noticing that our twentieth high school reunion was approaching and that our class wasn’t planning an official event (at least at the time — they have since gone on to hold a low-key get-together!), John and I sent an email to our group of 11 close friends to see whether they’d be interesting in gathering the following summer last September. We’re spread out around the country, so even though we love each other dearly we weren’t sure how feasible getting together would be. Happily, the enthusiasm was resounding, so my next step (in December) was to send out two possible weekends for a vote.
Once the responses rolled in, we chose a date. We were originally interested in staying at a communal property, as I’m of the mind that some of the sweetest moments in a group happen in the in-between times, but the place we had our eye on wasn’t available. Most folks opted to stay with parents who still lived in the area.
From there, I got busy drafting an itinerary that was full of nostalgia but updated for our thirty-something lives, many of which now include kids. Happy to take the lead but not wanting to move forward without any other input, I sent out my ideas to two members of the group who kindly gave me feedback. With their blessing, I booked what needed to be booked.
I sent out one more quick survey in March to nail down final details, confirming things like kids’ ages, arrival and departure plans, accommodation info, and what days they planned to participate in activities. Google Forms made this easy.
The week before we convened, I sent out a printed itinerary detailing the weekend’s fun. I also created a new text thread with all the attendees (original friends + spouses). This was super helpful for communicating details on-the-go throughout the weekend!
The Itinerary:
We were lucky enough to grow up in beautiful Southeastern Connecticut, and our schedule aimed to take advantage of all that we loved as teenagers — with a few concessions to our reality as thirty-something parents. Here’s how we spent our time:
Wednesday:
The Thomas family flew in late — we rented a car and got to my parents’ house after midnight.
Thursday:
With arrivals throughout the day, we had a leisurely breakfast at home and then drove out to my family’s farm to see several of my aunts, uncles, and cousins over lunch. The kids got to climb around in the hay barn and pet horses’ noses, always a hit.
After showering back at my parents’, we all headed to Tox Brewing in New London. Tox is owned by two of our classmates, Dayne and Mike, and though we didn’t see them when we were there it was fun to support their brand-new, larger location. We took over two long tables, ordered beer and wood-fired pizza, and chatted for 2+ hours. I brought original and preschool sticker books to help keep the kids happy. They also played several rounds of Go Fish and hit up the arcade games thanks to the benevolence of one of our childless friends (thanks, Uncle Jeremy!!).
Friday:
Our favorite beach growing up was in Rhode Island (New England states are so much smaller than down South!), so we once again crossed the border and drove the 30 minutes to Watch Hill. While we preferred the more remote Napatree Beach in high school, we opted for the more-accessible public entrance near the Ocean House this time to lug our chairs, canopies, and sand toys. We stopped for deli sandwiches at McQuade’s on the way (another very nostalgic move) and enjoyed chatting, swimming, and eating for a few hours on a windy but warm and sunny day.
After regrouping and showering at home, we drove over to Abbott’s for a seaside dinner. (The combo of beach day + quick shower + sunset seaside dinner are some of my very favorite days growing up — and still!) Longtime readers might recognize Abbott’s as the site of our rehearsal dinner, and it was fun to return there with so many of the friends who were with us on that happy day.
After getting the kids ready for bed and leaving them in the care of their grandparents, the grown-ups headed back out to the back deck of Jackie’s parents’ house. Our original plan was to gather around a fire pit and toast s’mores, but we never ended up striking a match — once we got to talking, we didn’t stop for almost four hours. (Don’t worry, we had plenty of snacks besides marshmallows.) This simple, uninterrupted time for deep conversation was one of my very favorite parts of the weekend – more here.
Saturday:
Another beautiful day and we started it with a short, flat hike at Bluff Point – perfect for little kids (we had 11 kids in our crew who ranged from age two to age nine), and nostalgic for those of us who ran cross-country (races were sometimes held there!).
From there, we headed to Mike’s parents’ house for a pool party in their backyard. My parents and his graciously provided lunch — pizza, fruit salad, cookies, and drinks — and we spent several hours splashing, eating, and chatting.
Later that evening the grown-ups met back up for our last major event, a fancier dinner out at Trattoria Amalfi. John and I got there a bit early to get the table set — see below — and it was once again the loveliest few hours of conversation and laughter. My cheeks hurt by the end.
Sunday:
We finished things off with breakfast at Sift in downtown Mystic, a very-welcome addition to town since our high school days. Our family had to scoot to the airport all too soon, but it was a happy chance for one more round of hugs and promises to not wait another twenty years to gather again.
A few ways we made this weekend special:
Of course, gathering with these dear friends was enough of a treat on its own — but you know me :) I couldn’t help adding a few extra details here and there, and I think they were both appreciated and really communicated that this weekend was an extraordinary experience — something to be savored.
First, I set up a communal playlist on Spotify. I seeded it with favorite songs from our high school years and encouraged everyone else to add to it, as well. We listened to it in the days leading up to the weekend and while driving along familiar roads, and it really set the mood.
I also designed, printed, and mailed a paper itinerary, and I think that helped communicate something special was in store. Canva made this super easy!
Finally, we added a few special touches to Saturday’s dinner. I chose a photo featuring each person, either from high school or the years since. I printed them all in black and white, attached them to thick white paper, and then watercolored each name on the bottom. On the back, I wrote a short note letting them know what they meant to me and thanking them for being here. These served as place cards at the dinner table.
At each place setting we also put a small box of chocolates from ATY Bonbons, a local treasure — just a little surprise to sweeten the journey home.
And there you have it! The nuts and bolts of a very special weekend. It exceeded my already-high expectations; I’d relive it a thousand times over if I could. We agreed to gather again in another five years, and it can’t come soon enough.
It was the best summer of our lives. We knew it at the time — I’ll always be grateful for that — even if those around us were inclined toward demurring, prevaricating. I’m sure it felt premature, to declare something “the best” when there were still so many opportunities to surpass it, when we were still so young.
But each day was a golden disc, luminous and precious, and they stacked lazily on top of one another for months – “each disc a day, and the addition slow.”
Everything was new. I had never had a boyfriend, of course, so that was new, but I mean everything. I drove on new roads in my old town – roads I’d never needed to drive on before, because nothing that lay at the end of them had ever mattered. I listened to new music on his mixed cassette tapes: The Arcade Fire, Iron & Wine, Wilco, Bloc Party. I tried new foods, overcoming my limited palette in the hopes of impressing him, or at least not disappointing him: guacamole, gazpacho, pavlova, sushi, hot buttered lobster roll, chicken tikka masala.
We got our Indian fix from a little hole-in-the-wall in the city next door, and after our many trips the owner began recognizing us. This felt important: a new acquaintance who had never known us apart from one other. We laughed as we were ushered to the table by the window week after week.
Who wouldn’t want to put love on display?
Our favorite days, the best days, went like this: wake up slow. Converge on the McQuade’s parking lot with the group. Order deli sandwiches, squeeze into fewer cars. Drive to Watch Hill, make a decision about parking (pay $20 for the lot or risk a ticket?), then hoof it past the marina and over the dunes to a slice of sand on Napa Tree Point. Unfurl a towel. Lie in the sun. Toss the football. Splash in the waves. Talk, talk, talk with whomever could come that day.
We got quite a few tickets.
Then home for a quick shower, pull on a sundress. A few minutes later he’d pull back into my driveway and we’d head out, just the two of us this time – to Abbott’s, for dinner, squinting, the low sun glinting off the sound. Another place I’d never been, even though I’d lived in this town my whole life, too.
Then to game night. Someone’s parents’ house, the whole group again, or whoever could make it that evening. Cranium, usually, or poker, or Rock Band. Home before curfew, usually just.
We were not completely without responsibility, that summer. He worked at a seaside market, slicing ham and scooping potato salad and toasting bagels for beachgoers. He’d bring me home an unsold chocolate croissant after closing, by this point knowing enough (and feeling comfortable enough) to pull one of my mom’s wax-paper-wrapped burritos out of the freezer for his own late-night snack.
I worked at a tiny beach shack, at a tucked-away cove frequented only by nannies and toddlers. He’d bike miles round trip with a friend or two just to see me, rounding the corner of the deck sweating and grinning. I’d give them a shaved ice, the sanctioned offering for friends, then go back to reading my book in the sun when they left.
A letter arrived from college with my roommate’s name printed neatly in small black type. She called me a few days later, urged me to log onto Facebook now that we could guess at our college email addresses. Intrusive, all of it, an unwelcome reminder that a world beyond this summer was lurking.
Never mind.
We hiked, we kayaked at the cottage, we watched movies, we laid in the hammock and read books, we dove in the pool, we walked on the train tracks, we went to the casinos for Krispy Kreme, we played croquet in my backyard, we hopped the fence and flew high on the beachside swings in Groton under the moon. And when we weren’t with our friends or alone, my younger sister inexplicably became our third wheel, a heretofore unheard of circumstance in our somewhat-frosty relationship.
It’s easy to be generous when you’re in love.
We went skinny dipping once, wading deep into the pond before tossing our suits back to shore, everyone laughing and shrieking in the moonlight, and that was the night of our biggest argument. “Are you just going to do what everyone else does?” he shot at me later, a slight tremor revealing the fear about what we’d find, who we’d become when throttled beyond this golden summer, plucked up and placed somewhere we weren’t seen and known and loved.
This was the only stumble.
Otherwise – and this is not just hazy hindsight, I remember this with clarity and certainty – we knew this summer was the beginning, knew we would pass into marriage, and children, knew we would last. We knew it as surely as we knew our names.
But who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years?
I have had many blissful seasons since, many golden summers, mostly because our lives only became further entwined – but none like that first one. Our love feels quieter now, steadier, deeper. It is on this love that the engine of our marriage is run: being in love that summer was the explosion that started it.
We celebrated the twentieth anniversary of our first date in late January, and I couldn’t let it go by without sharing a few thoughts. Astute readers will recognize that I wove in a few lines from one of our ceremony readings, with many thanks to C.S. Lewis, as well as a line from my favorite poem.
I am aware that we are in the sweetest of sweet spots in our family’s life. It’s rather unfashionable to say so – the more correct thing to say is that there is beauty in every season, and that we shouldn’t elevate one over another – but sometimes unfashionable things are also true. Of course (of course!) there is beauty in every season: I fully expect to delight in our family when everyone has graduated from elementary school, when we have teens, and when kids are home on college break. I will relish the days when we can all huddle around the same game board and no one is whining to be carried on a hike.
And yet: so many people say that the years between six and twelve are the golden ones for family life, and I can see why. Our kids are squarely within our sphere of influence. They like our home the best and spending time together the most. They don’t have phones or computers – there’s no algorithm shaping, splintering, spoiling their psyches. They’re growing more capable every day and look out for each other while on the go. They’re full of questions and eager for answers, willing accomplices, sweet and genuine and unguarded. They smile and hug and snuggle and hold our hands.
They also bicker, and vehemently express outsize opinions about inconsequential things. They complain and whine and dawdle and melt down. I lose my patience and come down hard in the wrong places and make the more expedient choice instead of the one I know is better in the long-term.
This is family life, with all of its joys and furies. This is our life together, and here I am to mark one more year in its span: to pin it down in my memory, to examine it from each side like the jewel-tone butterfly it is. Thank you, as always, for indulging me. xo
As ever, our year began by celebrating another birthday for our big girl – this time with a “birthday day of fun” with one of her best friends. We went to the Life & Science Museum in the morning, a rock climbing gym in the afternoon, and rounded out the day with her first ever sleepover. We invited a contractor into our attic to talk about renovation possibilities, cousins came to visit, I re-sorted my bookshelf after almost a decade of rainbow order, and Shep played his first basketball season at a gym in our neighborhood – bliss! We also kicked off reading Little Pilgrim’s Progress in the mornings before school, something we’d continue all year until we finished in December. Finally, my beloved paternal grandmother passed away on the 19th anniversary of John’s and my first date – and my maternal grandparents’ wedding anniversary.
We wished for snow in February but were disappointed. Instead, we made classroom valentines, hiked on sunny days, made crayon sun catchers (still hanging many months later!), and cheered on the NC State gymnastics team with friends. We spent a long weekend in Virginia with grandparents and cousins and took our first visit to the National Zoo. I celebrated my birthday at the end of the month with antiques shopping and a solo lunch date, and on the blog, I shared some thoughts on beauty at age 37 and 6 small changes I’m glad I made.
We spent lots of time outdoors in March, including on the field and sidelines for another soccer season for June and Shep. We celebrated the first blooms from our fancy daffodils, shopped for Easter baskets for kids in our community, and *almost* put in an offer on a home in our neighborhood after a 24-hour scramble to get pre-approved for a mortgage. We flew to Connecticut to honor my grandmother’s life at her memorial service – I gave a eulogy based on these remembrances – and loved getting to visit with family at our farm. A week later we left for another spring break on Jekyll Island, this time in the turret and with friends! On the blog, I shared a second installment of our family’s faith formation practices.
April was filled with adventures big and small. We biked to church one morning – 9 miles round trip! – I chaperoned a field trip for June, and Shep took some tune-up swim lessons before his first season of neighborhood swim team. Perhaps most notably, I flew to Texas for DG’s annual retreat and met Cultivate’s new vice president, Jessica. It’s been a year of much change for CWM and this was the week it all kicked off. I left feeling hopeful, and though it’s been a year of ups and downs, I’m grateful for our small but mighty team. On the blog, I shared an update on our mortgage payoff plan.
We kicked off May with two back-to-back weekends of camping with friends, and then John and June one-upped us by camping a third weekend during their 22-mile backpacking trip! June, John, and I were all terribly proud of how well she did on this epic adventure with dad. In between, we picked strawberries, biked all over our town, finished soccer, and started neighborhood swim team. Shep graduated from our beloved preschool and grandparents came to town to celebrate. I also organized a flower bar at church for Mother’s Day, a sweet opportunity to serve some ladies I love.
In June, the two bigs finally cashed in on their Christmas IOU – tickets to The Lion King at DPAC! Their faces absolutely lit up when the cast sang and danced their way down the aisle inches from our seats. School let out for the summer and we adjusted to the work-from-home life with two kids around. Verdict: incredibly grateful to be able to do it, not without its frustrations. We rounded the month out with more cousin visits, a sweaty Durham Bulls game, hosting a neighborhood kindergarten breakfast, first swim meets, and one of our favorite weekends of the year: a trip to a North Carolina beach town over Father’s Day/Juneteenth. And in the midst of it all (how?!), I traveled back to Texas for Cultivate’s big PowerSheets photo shoot.
In July we were off to Michigan, one of our happiest of happy places! We tubed, hiked, fished, dined, and napped in the sun with 35 Thomas family members. Soon enough it was time to send June off for her first summer of sleepaway camp – two weeks in the North Carolina mountains! After a flurrying of planning and packing, we walked away from a big piece of our heart with a lump in our throats. Thanks be to God she thrived (even if she did only send us one letter, ha!). On the blog, I shared a mid-year update on my goals.
Sleepaway camp flowed right into another week of Cousin Camp – with an Olympics theme, naturally. We continued the cousin time with a week together in Maine. It was a treasure, as always, despite the fact that John was knocked out by COVID for almost the entirety of our stay. An especially dear memory is taking the Whaler to a tiny nearby island one afternoon with just my dad and the three kids.
Back at home, we celebrated Shep’s birthday with his own birthday day of fun – a train ride to Greensboro to visit the children’s museum with two buddies and their sibs. And soon enough it was back to school for all three, but this time both June and Shep were biking to elementary school!
On the blog, I shared a simple trick that makes the most of my clothing budget.
September: more soccer (this time, for Annie, as well!), our annual camping trip with the Rays (this time on Lake Gaston!), and a 12th anniversary trip to Asheville where we dined and dreamed. Just a week later, we helplessly watched as damage from Hurricane Helene mounted across Western North Carolina. Closer to home, I pushed through considerable nerves to speak for the first time on behalf of The Connected Family. It was a gracious group (including some EFM reader friends! Hi!!), and I’m looking forward to doing more of it in 2025. On the blog, I finally shared my apple cider scone recipe and an anniversary sort-of poem.
After much heartache over the fate of our fall mountains trip (the area we had planned to visit was too damaged to receive travelers), we rerouted to Bryson City in October. We were grateful to be there and gratefully received by shopkeepers and restaurants eager for tourists. We gathered for the 9th anniversary of Articles Club, visited the state fair, cheered on our favorite babysitter at the Homecoming game, celebrated Lara and Ari’s vow renewal, and I saw Kendra Adachi (the Lazy Genius!) speak at Quail Ridge.
November was a quiet month. We mostly stayed home, welcoming my family for an early Thanksgiving weekend and celebrating Nancy’s new baby with a nesting party (an absolutely brilliant idea – more about that soon!). I began painting this year’s book ornaments and we ended the month in Virginia with all of John’s family for Thanksgiving proper.
December was full of delights old – baking favorite recipes, reading beloved books – and new – most notably, attending a performance of Handel’s Messiah with dear girlfriends. As a family, we unfortunately battled sickness all month, but it didn’t stop us from enjoying Christmas at home and a few days in Blowing Rock with my family immediately afterward (including snow tubing for the first time for all three kids!).
For us, each year in the life of our young family is a delicate balance – between travel and staying home, between “new” and “the same,” between pushing and choosing rest, between work and play, between freedom and control. We do not get it right all the time, not by a long shot – but we try. We think deeply about it, and pray for wisdom, and act carefully, and adjust as we go. It’s both rewarding and overwhelming to see a year in our life summed up like this, but as always, I’m choosing gratitude. It’s not hard, and for that I am, well, grateful.
Friends, however often I can show up here, I am so grateful for what we’ll discuss in 2025. Thank you for always meeting me here, and for sharing so generously with me! It’s one of the delights of my life. Wishing you a healthy, happy, and abundant new year. I’m finishing up my 2025 goals and reading list and can’t wait to share, so I’ll see you soon! :)
