Cinco De Sammy

Greetings from my car, parked in my garage, where I type with a stubborn 2 year old asleep in her seat behind me. After listening to Audrey yell from her crib for an hour during nap time, I strapped her in the car, put on my favorite album of the moment (The Burning Edge of Dawn by Andrew Peterson) and drove until she gave it up and fell asleep (approximately 47 seconds into the ride.) We have a big party tonight with all of our friends and I NEED her to survive a late bedtime, so I got myself a coffee, rolled down the windows, and took the two of us on a mini-vacation of a Saturday drive around our neighborhood, and then right back home. She’s snoozing in her carseat while I write behind the steering wheel, and if anyone’s wondering how moms get work done, here’s your answer.
In our cars. In the garage.

Today is Cinco De Mayo which obviously doesn’t matter one bit except for tacos and cold Pacificos (NEITHER OF WHICH I CAN HAVE BECAUSE WHOLE30 HATES FUN, but I’m on day 22, can you believe it?! I’ll write about the whole process soon.) For the Horney family, though, Cinco De Mayo means I get to dress up my son in a (low-key racist) costume and deliver his picture to the internet, which brings me a surprising amount of joy.

Then again, I’m writing this from my garage, so I guess it makes sense that the little things still bring me joy in a way that people with offices and baby-sitters (and paychecks) will never understand.


Samuel Iradell Horney V, our little Cinco, continues to amaze and confound me. He is brave beyond belief when it comes to dangerous tricks on bikes, scooters, and great heights, but he’s too scared to go downstairs by himself in the morning. According to me, he “never listens,” but according to what he spouts back and discusses with me, he listens with frightening accuracy. He is still one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen, and I still stare at his face with a clutch in my heart, just like I did when they first laid him on my chest and he looked up at me with newborn wonder. Even as he settles further into himself and becomes who he was always meant to be, there is a secret part of him that I can’t quite reach, a deep, still pool of thought and perspective that flashes in his brown eyes when he’s taking it all in. I ache for the baby I held in my arms, but I delight in the boy who folds himself into my side for a moment and then runs away, all at once completely mine and never mine at all.

Happy Cinco De Horney, friends. Here’s to the boy I never knew I needed, and the son who lights up our life. May your day be as fun as my Sammy.





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