New Mexico

I sit at the long log table, holding a cup of hot cocoa to warm my hands as the sun pours through the myriad of windows. I hear muffled yells of little boys chasing each other around the large yard outside and I smile. A rangy juniper tree is nestled in a corner, lit with multiple colors, its branches hanging low from the weight of numerous ornaments, but not low enough to reach out and grab your leg as you walk on by. The smell of freshly baked cornbread permeates the air. My legs are relaxed from multiple soaks in hot springs located just outside the front door of the large lodge; my mind is dancing on thoughts of the cold hike my five-year-old son and I took this morning, a cold hike through snow to cliff dwellings high above a creek. He braved icicles, below-freezing weather, a cough and carrying his own camelback (filled with water!) to reach the top. It snowed on us the day before. Snow! Big, wet flakes floating from the sky and melting the minute they touch the earth. I smile at the thought of Ash drawing pictures of everything awesome he sees - a green notebook full of a little boy's most precious thoughts - a rendering of flower art, the hot springs, the wood fire, the lodge. I was nervous about this vacation; nervous that a single mom of a crazy little boy would have a meltdown. I worry that I cannot relax. That I will need to leave early, to return to civilization. But I am comfortable here, at this great big lodge on the edge of the wilderness, run by a family with three rambunctious boys who Ash loves, run by owners who make the most incredible breakfasts each morning. I am comfortable - and in this moment, I am happy.