When I became a parent with our first little one, I found myself searching for a project besides the tiny human we were trying to raise. As with most things in life that I need to process, I turned to writing. About one hundred million parents have started blogs, and in some ways, they all sound the same after a while. “Parenthood is beautiful, but parenthood is so hard.” Blah blah blah…. But I’m realizing there’s a reason why we want to write about all the blah blah blah, and it’s just that we want to share our story, cliche as the chapters may be. The purpose of a blog may simply be that in itself: a purpose. Something that holds all these loose thoughts of our semi-functional parenting brains together.
I started off just writing about our family and what our kids were up to, but as parenthood began its predictably unpredictable path of twists and turns we didn’t see coming, my writing turned to subjects that became near and dear to my heart. How we raised our kids, of course, but also what kind of world they were stepping into. The stereotypes of society. The untold helplessness of infertility. The ache of infant loss. The complicated hope that can follow. The community of fellow mothers. The seasons of motherhood.
Despite the rollercoaster of hills and valleys of being mom, it is what brings me joy. The deep, comfortable, soul-filling, favorite-pair of pajamas, top-of-a-mountain-view, sound-of-the-waves, a-baby’s-first-giggle
kind of joy. It’s who I am.
I live near the mountains with my husband, two sweet but willful daughters and their sweet but willful brother, a rescue dog who thinks it’s a human, and a baby boy in the sky. When I’m not writing, teaching English to college students, and chasing around my kids, we enjoy DIY house projects, exploring, basketball, building sand castles, funny shows, and good food.
*Thanks to AJ Eccles for her beautiful watercolor artwork displayed on this page.
