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I have no fewer than six essays in various stages of completion cluttering my drafts folder, in case you were wondering. I haven’t had a lot of time to finish things lately, and not just silly things like blog posts. My to-do list is long, and although I’m getting through it much more slowly than I’d like, I have managed to do a pretty commendable job of fattening up a certain tiny guy. I thought about it the other day, and I literally spend between 4-6 hours a day nursing him, which doesn’t exactly leave time for much else, although I did manage to tackle all the laundry, a personal victory.

June really crept up on me, which is fine by me seeing as it’s one of my favorites. I love me a good summer solstice. Also, there are just three school days left before summer vacation officially begins, and thank goodness because I’m pretty sure we’re all already on break. I’m really really looking forward to lots of little adventures with all three of my kiddos — I plan on taking full advantage of the fact that we live in San Diego, one of the loveliest cities on planet Earth, which is finally starting to feel like home.

I started this blog back up last year around this time, well before I knew I was pregnant, when I was just starting to feel like myself again after a couple of really turbulent years, including that one in Oregon that really unsettled me to the core. One year later, and I’ve got a new baby, we live in a lovely new-to-us home, and we’re more settled as a family than we’ve ever been, Jesse included. In other words, a lot has happened over the last twelve months, and somehow I’ve managed to chronicle bits and pieces of it here. And only one recipe! Shame on me, is all I have to say about that, but the rest of it is pretty spot on and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m rather proud of what I’ve published.

This next year is sure to bring lots more exciting things to write about, including wedding shenanigans. I apologize in advance for the many posts to come about all things related to our totally rad future nuptials, but there are just too many thoughts and they have to go somewhere! I also hope to incorporate more recipes and even a few craft projects into the rotation because, let’s face it, those things are helpful! I’ve learned too many things from the internet not to give back at least a little.

Thank you for reading this silly ol’ blog of mine. I really do pour my heart into the things I write, and having you along for the journey is nice company. Your comments and messages are so kind and thoughtful, I appreciate each and every one and feel pretty lucky to have such a gracious audience.

Seriously, though. My precious firstborn is one month away from turning eleven years old. His tenth birthday was a day I’ll never forget, as it was the very last day of my life as a mother of two. Discovering that a new baby would be joining our family the following day, and all that has happened since, has been wild and wonderful. I can’t even begin to imagine what lies in store for us this coming year. I’m sure there will be plenty of good stories to tell.


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At the beginning of June, I made a conscious decision to stop waiting for happiness to find me and to just go out and find it for myself. I started writing. I started riding my bike.

I let go of expectations about what I thought my life should be like, and instead embraced the life I have.

The result of making this simple shift in thinking (and doing) has been a tangible feeling of connectedness: to myself, my family, the Universe. I feel whole. Or, at least, a whole lot happier.

As we were driving home from our adventures at LegoLand yesterday, I had this moment where I realized that even though my life isn’t really all that different than it was a month ago, it’s better. It’s better because I’m thankful for it. All of it, even the bad days. Which, by the way, are rare these days and I can’t help but wonder if I really did manage to write my way to wellness?

Today I woke up flooded with gratitude for these last few years. They have taught me so much about myself, the depths of my sorrow and the heights of my joy, and more importantly, just how resilient I am. I can say that I have never been happier than I am at this moment, and for that, I am truly grateful.

In other news, not only did I find the pictures I was desperately searching for, I found along with them a veritable trove of treasures from when my sweet boy was young. Oh, what a glorious time in my life that was. Even still, I wouldn’t trade those days for the ones that are yet to come. All of this to say that I’ll be back tomorrow with something truly special.



I have thirty days left of being thirty. How did this even happen?

I’m definitely one of those people who thought things about thirty, about what it would mean to be thirty, and what my life would look like when I finally turned thirty. And while, over the years, expectations surrounding this monumental birthday shifted, never did I imagine that I would spend my thirtieth year struggling to reclaim myself.

Needless to say, thirty came without as much jubilation as I had anticipated and, quite frankly, I can’t quite bear to see it go out the same way. Because what thirty did come with was a certain kind of renewal, a surprising excavation of previously undiscovered potential combined with the release of a lot of negative energy. This year, I have loved and been loved more deeply than ever before, and I appreciate my life a lot more than I used to. I’m pretty sure this is what it feels like to be an adult.

Which is not to say that I’m grown up. I’m not. But I’m getting there.

Here’s a little secret. This very blog began, with humble tumblr roots, as a daily writing experiment. I wanted to see if I could write and publish something every day for thirty days, and I did. It was the first time I had ever done that, and it was the beginning of one of my most prolific periods. And one of the happiest.

In honor of this year, this strange and beautiful year, I have decided to dedicate the next thirty days to the very same goal. Writing and wellness have always gone hand in hand for me, so it seems a rather full circle sort of way to acknowledge it all – the fact that, eleven months ago, I was as depressed as I’d ever been and now here I am, ready to write. On a daily basis! Oh, I have waited a long time to get to this place.

Thirty years, to be exact.



I miss blogging. There, I said it.

But oh, it’s true. And it’s ridiculous that I haven’t just up and started writing again. Only, I seem to have gotten rather shy?

It’s hard to come back from anything, I suppose. And for a long time, I felt like writing would only make me more sad, because that’s how sad I was. I use the past tense lightly here because, quite frankly, I’m still kind of struggling, but in a better-ish sort of way. Thanks, San Diego!

Living in Oregon taught me that, while I’ll always have a hole in my heart the size of New York City, I truly am a California girl. Moving back to California has taught me that there is a lot more to happiness than good weather.

I came to pieces little by little and putting myself back together seems to be a remarkably similar process. Writing was once at the core of my daily life, and it was then that I felt most connected, inspired, and productive. More than just writing, though. Sharing my story. And learning from the stories shared by others. There is endless amounts of wisdom woven into the many individual, complex, and human stories that live on the internet. And there is community. It’s really pretty great.

Therefore, in an attempt to shake off the last of the heaviness of those grey Pacific Northwest skies that apparently tried to swallow me whole, I have declared enough with this nonsense and back to it already.

I mean, really.