“Morning’s Quiet” 24×24, oil on canvas $400.00 Buy Now

I’ve lived in my new house three months now. I have trouble recalling the initial chaos– where would Ezra go to school? How would I ever paint over all those mustard walls? Would we make friends in the neighborhood?

I’m still working on making friends. It’s a hilarious parody of meeting someone at a bar. Instead of “Hi, I’m Denise” it’s “Hi, I’m Ezra’s mom”. The awkward conversation that follows is similar and then the pressure to seal the deal– would you like to have a playdate sometime? Here’s my number.” Fingers crossed, I hope they call.

Despite our lack of playdates (I’m still trying!), we’ve really settled into our new home and grown to love it. I feel like we’ve been here far longer than we have. It’s as though the sixty years ago when the house was built, it was done so with us in mind. Like a lucky find at the thrift store, it happens to fit us so perfectly.

Our mornings are a bit chaotic: Breakfast, pack a lunch, brush teeth, potty, get dressed, walk to school. These ordinary tasks become extraordinary feats when a four year old is involved. My patience has never been so tested. But then.

Ezra is off to school a few blocks away. He is happy to be with other children all day. His teachers are oozing with profound kindness. And I am back at my house, now my office. I have work to do. The morning is quiet. I am exactly where I need to be.



A couple of photos of my “office” in the morning.



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