Man at Desk

This Version of Us

Whole-body health includes soul-rest.


After a weekend away, our whole clan needed what my British in-laws would call a "lie in", which basically means a morning to sleep in and relax. While sleeping in isn't on the agenda with my two, rest was predetermined to have a presence in our morning routine.


Rest is a fluid concept, holding different meanings for different stages of life. There is physical-rest, which would currently include a full night's sleep, an easy breakfast, and a lack of errands or work throughout the day. Not having to prep two bags full of food (if you know my children you know they eat non-stop), additional diapers and clothes, etc is mentally restful in and of itself.


Then there is soul-rest. My soul-rest is this concept of the family being in one physical location, all engaged in one activity that brings us each joy. Today, it was zucchini brownies. Zucchini brownies?! You might think that a dietary specialist only eats twigs full of fiber and fermented leaves to maintain 'regularity'. There are times for those things, certainly.


This morning. In our house. With windows wide open and cool breeze trickling in while the oven preheated, it was zucchini brownies. Made with cacao powder- which has antioxidants up the wazoo, 4.5 cups of shredded zucchini, coconut sugar- which is lower on the glycemic index scale, and coconut oil (we buy it by the gallon), these brownies are not your average Joe.


Some might contend that making brownies with two toddlers isn't rest, and I would agree. Physical rest is not the hyper-awareness that coincides anything near blades, raw eggs, or batters that could potentially redecorate the floor. However, soul-rest brings joy, and this activity was dripping with all kinds of joy. Pajamas were worn by all, batter was whisked, freshly grated zucchini squeezed, and then we all got to watch as the house magically began to smell of coziness and chocolate.


Soul-rest was had two-fold in this morning's hours. My internal clock is very aware that this version of us is temporary. Ouch. Read that last line again. In October, when the youngest of our clan finds her way into this world, us will no longer be what it is now. I am thrilled to figure out how we look as a family, and I distinctly remember this same type of phase with Aiden before Remi came. There's a season of acknowledging how special the current dynamic is, and allowing ourselves to soak in what is known and familiar.