Objects of Worth

a mini essay from the cabin

At the beginning of this year I off-handedly mentioned to my husband that I thought I might like to start a jewelry collection. I realize this sounds very grand and like we’re in a league of people who buys “investment pieces” and we are decidedly not.

All I meant really was that I wanted stop buying crap off Amazon and start collecting pieces that felt like wearable art, pieces that, even if they weren’t heist-worthy, would mean something to my family after I’m gone because they’d remind them of “mom.”

My husband, ever the outstanding gift-giver, surprised me on Mother’s Day with some GORGEOUS earrings I keep in a velvet bag and wear on special occasions.

I thought for sure that’d be the only piece I’d be adding to the collection this year. But I was wrong.

This week we arrived up north at the cabin, like we do every year with my side of the family, already a little road-worn from a busy summer of travel. As we drove through forest fire smoke, stopped again and again and AGAIN for our four year old twins to “go potty,” chugged lukewarm protein shakes, and shared beds with our kicking children, there’ve been more than a few moments where we’ve looked at each other and thought “WHY ARE WE DOING THIS??”

There’s no two ways about it, family trips with kids are a labor of love parents undertake in the name of “the plot.”

In the economy of parenting young kids, the best way to win is to majorly shift your expectations and determination of what makes a good trip. Here are somethings family trips are NOT:

• restful

• relaxing

• supportive of a workout or diet regime

• a great time to have an in-depth conversation with another adult

I’m sure there’s more I could add to this list, but honestly my brain is mush at this point. I’ll admit there have been some really low points for me this summer, the drive up north in particular was excruciating as I tend to be one of those maniacs who would wear an adult diaper and never stop in the name of “getting there” and the rest of my family is normal.

“I think you’re being mean mommy now,” one of the twins offered on hour 15 after I roared at them for complaining about watching K-Pop Demon Hunters again.

I was being mean mommy. No one asked me to schlepp my kids around the world this summer. This is something I chose on my own, with an autistic 8 year old and 4 year old twins.

We arrived at the cabin around dinner time, nerves frayed, hair greasy, stomaches bloated from days of eating junk food in the car. Thankfully the wind was starting to shift the forest fire smoke away, and the lake started to clear.

We took the pontoon out at sunset, and my sisters and I baptized ourselves in the deep, cold lake water in our underwear while nine kids peered at us from the edge of the boat.

I fell asleep with the lake water drying on my skin and the twins curled up on the queen bed on either side of me and resolved to be better in the morning.

The next day we woke up to all the cousins crowding in our room and pretty soon I was drinking coffee and the horrors of the road trip were a distant memory.

That was the morning I received the second piece of jewelry for my collection.

Una, one of the twins, spent the morning beading with her cousins and presented me with this necklace.

“I made this for you mommy,” she handed it over with the same earnestness she’d declared me “mean” the day before.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful. I love everything about it. The polka dot beads, the unicorn, the pink and red paired together. I thanked her, put it on and haven’t removed it since.

When I get home I think I’ll restring it properly because right now I’m terrified the tie will break.

Okay that’s all I have time for, so you’re spared from hearing me wax lyrical on worth, and memories, and family, and value.

I hope your summers are going well, whatever you’re doing. And if you’re a paid subscriber THANK YOU for being patient with me. I’m hoping to get a newsletter out just for you in the next day or so. Until then,

gabby xx