The Davolts

 Hey. Remember me? I know it's been awhile. A whole year, I think.  It sure has been a year. I cannot count the number of times I considered writing reflections on the year here. Surely, this was a year to record our place in a history-making pandemic? But just as often as I thought about writing here, I stopped myself; after all, what makes my experiences different or worth noting? We have collectively endured a year of loss, struggles, pain. So, I'm not going to write a long recap of our entire year here.  Instead, I want to write about writing. I know I have another post on the subject but this one has a different purpose. Jeff recently sent me an opinion piece from The Washington Post that immediately resonated with me:  Journaling for kids: How (and why) to start a journaling practice with kids  Like the author, I was encouraged to journal as a kid. As the author notes, journaling helped me process the most significant events in my life, such as the loss of my mom and othe

I absolutely love having two boys.  There is an energy and excitement that definitely keeps me young.  When meeting other parents with all boys there is always an unacknowledged kinship and assumption that we deal with the same rowdiness, crudeness and overall chaos that is a house of young boys.  For six years now I have always said I am so thankful to have all boys rather than girls.  There is this assumption that boys are so much easier than girls.  That as a father girls are so much scarier.  That things like braiding hair, princesses and unicorns, teenage love, menstrual cycles, and protecting sexual innocence are so much harder for a father to navigate as a parent of a female.  But what if this assumption that boys are easier, that they are less work, that boys are not as high maintenance to parent as girls is partly responsible for toxic masculinity and so many of our societal problems that can be traced back to the patriarchy? I think about raising men all the time.  Not on

At no other time of the year do I think about "tradition" more than during the holidays, from Thanksgiving through Christmas. I do like the sense of timelessness that traditions afford, reminding us of past Christmases and the people or places we cherish most. As much as I love the traditions of years past and years to come, I think it's healthy to miss or change traditions every now and then. My own childhood was filled with traditions for Thanksgiving and Christmas, as was Jeff's, but I also recall the experiences when traditions were put on hold or changed, sometimes intentionally, and sometimes for reasons beyond our control. I suppose it's the same for all of us as we grow, move, lose, and gain. Not that I go out of my way to disrupt any plans for my family now, but rather, to remind us that life doesn't always go the way it has before and we can enjoy the time together no matter what. Having our own family caused Jeff and I to decide on what would be

I made a goal not too long ago to write something about once a month or so.  As November winds to an end, I have been feeling pressure to put something down.  Trying to steer clear of a simple Thanksgiving post, I've noticed something else that has stuck me as we head into the Christmas season.  The joy, excitement and wonder that children bring to just about everything.   Photo courtesy of Erin's Instagram page We hosted Thanksgiving this year and in order to make room for everyone, and have everyone at least in the same room for dinner we did some serious rearranging of furniture.  We moved a couch basically into our kitchen and used our front room, our library, as we call it, to add a couple tables so everyone could eat more or less in the same room.   While this chore was not at all remarkable, the reaction to it by Nathan and Andrew has stuck with me.  We had moved all the furniture prior to the boys coming home from school.  On the walk home from the bus stop,

Andrew celebrated his sixth birthday in October and instead of a party, we honored a long requested desire to go to Chuck E. Cheese. As much as people grimace about the chaos that can exist there, we found Sunday afternoon lunch to be a convenient and not so chaotic time to go. Andrew and Nathan both enjoyed playing the games and walked out with a small clutch of goodies. The pizza wasn't terrible either. Most importantly, Andrew was satisfied with the outing as a birthday celebration. So, let me tell you about Andrew, age six:  This kid is bursting with personality and energy. Andrew always has a smile on his face, never missing a beat to cheese for a camera. He seems to hardly sit still, tumbling on the couch, climbing on the counter, or running the length of the house. He has a huge heart and sees the best in everyone, assuming all share his interests (most endeavors include a "come on Mom!"). With mom and dad he loves smashing hugs and running hugs and bear

On the last day of my 40 year on this earth, I've decided to sit down and write again.  Doing more writing has been on my mind for quite a while lately.  After all, I am a writing teacher.  I've made goals to read more,  and exercise more with varying degrees of success, but haven't ever really focused on writing.  It just seems harder.  I mean, I'm a writing teacher, I should be able to write, right?  Yes, but there are so many obstacles.  I pick apart my students' writing all the time, and thus my writing should be perfect.  I preach to them to follow the writing process (which sometimes is just too time consuming).  And I am hyper aware of any mistakes I may make when publishing my writing to the world, and there is just the time and energy it takes.  I tell my students all the time to get over it, "brave before perfect," and all that, so it's about time I take my own advice.   So here goes.... So here we are on the eve of turning 41.  What sho