Another Baby… My Boy!
Right now, as I write this, my boy Noah Sol is crying while I’m sick in bed. Maya Luna is sleeping by my side, and Mama T—my partner and party planner extraordinaire—is holding it all together.
We’re doing it. It’s bumpy, it’s tough, and we’re beyond exhausted. Financially, it feels like a marathon we didn’t train for. Managing the Mothertree—our little sanctuary and community—while keeping up with maintenance and rent has become unsustainable. Yet, we’re tied to this land in a way that’s hard to explain. It’s where both of my kids were born, where they’ve started their lives, and where so much of our story has unfolded.
Having kids has completely shifted my world. After 40 years of navigating the freedom of a single, creative life, I never fully practiced balancing time, structure, and business with the weight of family. And now, I see cracks forming—places where all the things I’ve built over the years seem to drip through. Sometimes, I feel helpless, like all I can do is focus on my family, because at the end of the day, they’re my deepest responsibility.
Every big idea or dream I have now comes with the question: Will this support us? And the weight of how much life costs lights a fire under me, even if the plan isn’t fully formed yet.
But let’s talk about my boy—Noah Sol.
He turned one on October 2nd. We had five days of bliss before October 7th reminded me how fragile the world is—how heritage, lineage, tribe, and history can hold so much beauty and, at the same time, so much conflict and hate.
Noah Sol is everything: sweet, funny, loud, goofy, crazy cute, and completely in his body. From the moment he wakes up, he’s exploring, touching, climbing, and moving. He reminds me a little of myself. He and Maya Luna share a love-hate relationship that feels so familiar, like the dynamic my sister Tali and I had growing up. They’re teaching each other and testing each other constantly, but I see the bond forming, even in the chaos.
One of the things I love most about Noah is how he turns anything into a toy. Forget the expensive stuff—he’s perfectly happy with a pot, a bottle, or anything he can get his hands on. There’s magic in that simplicity, in the way he engages with the world.
This time of being “full-on” with parenting is pushing me to find strength I didn’t know I needed. It’s testing my patience, my back muscles, and my resolve in ways that humble me daily. But it’s also giving me clarity about what I want for my son.
For Sol, I wish for a life that’s healthy, safe, and full of excitement. I want him to experience the joys of true friendship, the thrill of exploring the world, and the satisfaction of finding his own path—one that surpasses anything I’ve walked myself.
Noah Sol, I love you. You’re loud, funny, and wild in the best ways. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed, and I’m so grateful for you.
You are a dream come true—a lifelong sidekick to re-explore this world with, to share the magic, and to be our shining Sol!
