A colder January than I've felt for a while.
Last week, Ben and I sat at the kitchen table and wrote about the year.
There was a lot to write.
A year ago today, the dominoes hadn't started to fall: we still didn't know we would move and hadn't yet found out I was shockingly pregnant. In fact, what we knew, was that we were not pregnant and that we wouldn't be again. (I was grieving). Ben was just beginning casual conversations about a DC sales job, while I was busy asking our landlord if he'd sell us the pink house and meeting with an overly handsome realtor about a duplex down the street.
At the end of January, the first domino was knocked: Ben accepted the DC sales job. A week later, way out of left field, I was pregnant. And then life changed rapid-fire.
Now a year later we sit in a new city, in a new house, in new sweaters (because we didn't have any), with a new baby, at new schools, in a new neighborhood, working a new job.
January begins our tenth month here and for the first time since we arrived, I can see bits of growth nosing up through the dirt -- somewhere underground, the roots of what our life here will be have started growing.