Present Over Perfect

soundly, and the kids were delighted about the whole thing.
We went in and had tacos and quesadillas, and the boys
kept saying, “Remember when Daddy beat Uncle Steve?”
We had a party recently, lots of adults and kids, and
while I’d planned for us to eat around the dining room table
and at the kitchen counter, the group planted itself in the
driveway, because of the boys, because of the basketball
hoop. We pulled the grill around from the back patio, and
the fire pit, too. We roasted marshmallows in the driveway,
watched the stars come out, shot baskets till it was too dark
to see a thing.
It feels right, more and more often, to let the boys’
desires define our decisions—not in every way, but in some.
The hours we’ve spent in the driveway this spring are some
of the sweetest we’ve spent together. Aaron and I aren’t
homebodies at all, not routine people even a little. We love
to travel, love the changes of scenery and adventure. But
our boys are teaching us about home, about patterns, about
the most meaningful ways to spend our time.
Our home is becoming more an anchor and less a place
to land for a hot minute between work trips. Our driveway,
of all places, is becoming the place where our life unfolds,
and I’m loving the change.