An Introduction to Aria Wofford

Feb 16

It may not be a popular opinion, but February is my favorite month. Where I live, February is the first kiss of spring after our cold and ever-drier winter. Our summers are parched and blazing, now stretching months longer than they used to when I was a child. Rain that always used to fall by Halloween sometimes comes a month or two later now, and then only briefly. But by sweet February we’ve usually had at least enough rain to tease new growth out of the oak trees and coat the landscape in the brightest, velvety green grass. Woven between endless rows of naked grapevines and spilling like gold over acres of cow-spotted fields are clouds of buttery yellow mustard flowers. They are so bright and eager in their loveliness that, like cheerful and unimposing houseguests, you’d like them to stay just a bit longer than they are accustomed to do. The roadsides are painted in brushstrokes of brilliant orange flowers that always look like the prim little sisters of the calendula just starting to bloom like tiny suns in my garden. It is one of my favorite times of the year to go out exploring and to take pictures of my three children, Alako, Ailey, and Gryffin.

Our family loves nature. We try to go on nature outings at least once a week and we have a sweet little backyard garden where we grow a variety of organic produce and flowers, just as my parents did when I was growing up (and still do, in fact). I learned most of what I know about gardening from my parents and I truly believe being able to grow my own food, especially without the need for sprays or chemical fertilizers, is one of my most valuable skill sets. Hopefully my children will feel the same way, but that remains to be seen. For now, I can usually get them to participate in the more exciting aspects of the garden, which for them currently include all of two things: planting the seeds at the very beginning…and harvesting at the very end. Because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t love harvesting and foraging? I can’t blame them.

Each one of my three children has reached a stage in their development that I am truly enjoying. Alako (pronounced “Ah-LAKE-Oh”) is eleven and one of the most compassionate, intuitive, charming, deeply empathetic, and curious people I’ve ever met. A true scientist, he loves to learn and understand the complexities of the world, just like his parents and grandparents. He’s also a voracious reader and innovative Lego engineer. His dedication to his school work makes me feel a combination of pride and astonishment, as he is incredibly self-directed, motivated, and driven. During the 2020-2021 school year, Alako, like most children, was participating in online, distance-learning. Many children, teachers, and caregivers struggled, as it was an extremely challenging time for all involved. Yet somehow, Alako thrived. It was not ideal, by any means, but his willing enthusiasm was truly inspiring. He was up and ready well before school each day, logging on as soon as he as allowed just to chat with his teacher before class began. And while both his father and I loved school and have a high respect for our educators, neither of us learned the formula for disciplined achievement until college. Alako is intrinsically confident and bright. We used to jokingly refer to him as, “The Politician,” because he would arrive at a friend’s birthday party and immediately begin networking, introducing himself as well as introducing other children to each other. Absolutely hilarious. He is our first- born when we were 26- the one who rocketed us into these previously unforeseen roles. Sometimes we lovingly explain to him that in a way we are all growing up together so we are bound to make mistakes sometimes and learn from them. We come away from most conflict closer and stronger because we try to keep communication with him as honest and open as possible while maintaining autonomy in our respective roles as parents and child. And I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, because for all of his huge energy and sometimes highly reactive emotions (primarily when his siblings are involved), he has always been a delight. From the moment we found his name, long before we had even conceived him, we knew he was an intensely magical being.

When Alako was three, I knew I was ready to meet his sister. I told their father, Adam, and he agreed to try. I was pregnant exactly one month later. Ailey (pronounced EYE-lee) was born the following year, exactly one week after her brother’s birthday! While I will save the details for a different story, Ailey was born in under three hours, we were home two hours later, and that is exactly how her life as always felt: like I’m running to catch up with her. Of my three children she is the most difficult for me to understand. I have such a strong intuitive connection with each of my boys but Ailey feels like she keeps a veil up. She is deeply loving and loyal, a strong character with a stronger will. A true enigma. She is beautiful like wind rippling golden fields under a Montana sky. Her beauty is not stagnant, but dynamic and powerful, in motion. Like the mermaid calls mixed in the waves crashing on the jagged cliffs of the Northern Pacific. Her independent spirit and tenacity were extremely intense for me when she was a toddler but thankfully, I had plenty of loving people in my life reminding me that those characteristics are actually quite positive and will serve her well into adulthood. She tells me that when she grows up, she will have, “every job,” because there are so many things she wants to do. She is obsessed with her big brother and my life’s work is trying to encourage him to be kinder to her in action and in tone. But I grew up without siblings until I was twelve, so I’m learning the ropes of sibling rivalry for what feels like the first time. Ailey has a wonderful bond with her younger brother, Gryffin. I love finding them quietly creating complex Playmobil worlds together. She prefers to sleep in the big bottom bunk bed in the boys’ room with him over her own room, which works out well for me, because I read to all the children at bedtime. And while it does not have quite the same sedating effect on the big kids, who would happily stay up the entire night listening to chapter after chapter, reading time puts our littlest Gryffin right to sleep.

Gryffin is four now and definitely the baby of the family. He was born three weeks early after a very difficult pregnancy, and had trouble putting on weight at first so I think that made me attach to him a little more. We co-slept with all of our babies, transitioning them into their own rooms around 2 years old, but Gryffin has always been the one I snuggle with the closest. We tangle together perfectly, as if he hasn’t quite forgotten the soothing togetherness of sharing a body. He still climbs in with us many nights. He is wild and sweet like a little bear cub, always half-dressed no matter how many times I try, with a smudge on his face or his belly, yet his hair somehow always smells clean. He loves eating raw kale out of the garden, calls our puppy, Porcini, “Par-weenie,” and says he likes him because, “Me kind tiny and him kinda tiny, ‘wike’ me!” He requests specific routes home after we drop off the big kids at school in the morning because it’s, “more beautiful this way,” and tells me, “Me ‘wuv’ you!” more times a day than I can count. Of course, it may be worth mentioning that as I sat here editing this particular paragraph of writing I had to pause briefly to engage in a discussion with Gryffin in which I discovered he had not in fact eaten his vegetables as previously assumed, but had in fact hidden them away UNDER MY BED. Thus, all discussion of afore agreed upon popsicles was off the table and much drama ensued…sigh! But all clandestine stashed vegetables aside, we share a special bond because I think it was with Gryffin that I fully accepted my role as their mother and took it on like a sacred cloak I finally allowed to sit on my shoulders. Before then I truly believe part of me still felt like a trapped animal desperately, hopelessly, searching for a way out. But now I have finally found peace in the completion of our family.

And now that I have found that peace, I want to share some of what I’ve learned along the way. I am lucky enough to share this great love of life, ideas, and creative storytelling, as well as a lifelong friendship, with one of the most magical souls in existence, so we knew this was a collaborative journey we had to take. A long time ago, long before I was a wife, or a mother, I was a writer. I loved dancing through thoughts with words as my intimate partner. And here in this space I am ready to open up that chapter of my life again. Thank you for being here.