A Smallish February: Finding Joy in Everyday Moments

February in Chicago is just plain rough, isn’t it?

It’s officially that "wet, sloppy boots by the door" season where everything feels damp and slightly annoying. The skies are that specific, flat shade of Midwest gray that makes you wonder if the sun was just a fever dream we all had last July. Everything is frozen solid, and honestly, I am so over it.

But if you look closely, and I mean really really lean in and squint, you start to notice those tiny quiet hints that spring might actually happen. Eventually. Maybe.

Nothing monumental happened this month. No big trips and no grand adventures. Just those small, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moments that make a life.

Early spring garden bulb sprouting through mulch in a backyard garden in Chicago

Walking past the garden bed the other morning, I caught a glimpse of a tiny red tip pushing through the mulch. One of the bulbs we planted last fall decided it was time to wake up! I’m not even embarrassed to admit I let out a full-on, loud "SQUEE!" right there in the yard. My neighbors probably think I’ve lost it, but after weeks of gray, I am so, so ready for something, anything, green.

Graphite rose sketch in artist sketchbook on table

It had been way too long since I sat down with a sketchbook. My "asshole brain" likes to tell me I’m too busy for "unproductive" art, but I finally ignored it, cracked open a fresh page, and just... drew. It was such a gentle, necessary reminder that I need to make space for this more often.

kids-karate-class.jpg

Isaac started karate this month, which has been so fun to watch. I took karate years ago and loved it, so seeing him put on his little white belt and step onto the mat feels strangely full circle.

Mostly I just love watching him try something new and take it seriously in that very earnest kid way.

Child coloring Minecraft coloring book at table with colored pencils

I love this photo so much. This is Isaac and me, squeezed into the "cozy corner" (also known as his closet) working in his Minecraft coloring book. There’s something so special about being invited into a kid’s secret fort. It was simple, creative, and exactly the kind of slow intentionality I’m trying to prioritize.

Kids sidewalk chalk drawings on suburban driveway in early spring

One afternoon, the temp crept just high enough that the kids spilled out onto the driveway with a box of chalk. My heart just about burst. Seeing him with friends from across the street and down the block... this is exactly why we moved out here.

Nothing big. Just the small, quiet stuff I’m trying to notice more.

 

Our First Snow Day in the New Neighborhood

The snow started falling early, soft and steady, and Isaac insisted we go outside so he could help shovel our sidewalk. So we bundled up, grabbed the big red shovel, and stepped into a world that was turning white by the minute.

Isaac standing in falling snow with a big red shovel, bundled up and ready to help clear the sidewalk.

After a few minutes he really found his rhythm and started clearing the walkway with serious focus. Snowflakes were sticking to his hood, his sleeves, and even his eyelashes, but he kept going!

Isaac pushing a snow shovel across the sidewalk while fresh snow falls around him.
A young boy bundled in a winter coat and boots shovels snow on the sidewalk in front of a blue two-story house while snow falls lightly around him.

As soon as Isaac saw his friends outside, he begged to go play with them. We walked over and noticed they had a sled. Since we have a little hill in our yard, the boys brought the sled over and immediately turned it into their own winter adventureland. They took turns pulling each other, sliding down, falling over, and laughing the entire time. It was the kind of pure kid joy that makes a snow day feel magical. This is why we moved here!

Three children bundled in winter coats standing around a colorful sled on a snowy day.
Three kids trudging through the snow while pulling a sled across the backyard hill during steady snowfall.

After a while the boys switched to snow angels. They lined up in a row, threw themselves backward into the powder, and flapped their arms and legs until the snow beneath them took shape. Watching them wiggle and laugh felt like watching childhood in its purest form.

Three kids lying in a row making snow angels in fresh powder on a snowy hill.

After hours of playing outside, it was finally time for the boys to come in and warm up. My husband made hot chocolate for all of us, complete with mini marshmallows, and we gathered around the table with our steaming mugs. The boys chatted and laughed, still buzzing with excitement from their snowy adventures. Hearing the joy in their voices warmed my heart more than the cocoa ever could.

I did not take photos of their faces. Privacy matters. But I did capture what they left behind. Empty mugs, abandoned spoons, and marshmallows scattered like confetti. A tiny still life of a winter afternoon well lived.

Three empty mugs of hot chocolate with spoons and scattered mini marshmallows on a wooden table after the kids warmed up inside.

Smallish Adventure- A Sky Full of Wonder

I was sitting at my computer working when my phone started blowing up with neighborhood texts “Go outside!”

So I did.

And there it was.
The Northern Lights(!!), glowing right above our quiet Chicagoland neighborhood.

Tonight as I walked through the neighborhood, looking for the best view under a pink and green sky that quietly glowed above the rooftops, I was able to take a few photos with my phone. How amazing!

Northern Lights glowing pink and green above a quiet suburban neighborhood in Chicagoland.
Northern Lights glowing pink and green above a quiet suburban neighborhood in Chicagoland.

It felt like the world was gently reminding me: you don’t always have to go far to find wonder. Sometimes, the adventure finds you.