Tuesday, January 9, 2018


"I've been thinking about starting the blog up again," I say to Brent.
"You've said this before..." he replies tentatively. He's right. I have said this before.

I think about doing a lot of things. And I always find plenty of excuses for not making those things happen, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone.

But isn't that just the beauty of January? The promise of a new year always fills me with fresh, naive optimism. 2018 will be my year! I see my fellow hopefuls out running in the mornings with their new shoes and jaunty strides and I wonder if we will see each other again, mostly because I wonder if I will maintain my newly reimposed early morning running routine.

And so, Brent, I am thinking about starting up the blog again. Here's why:

There are too many days where the sun is shining and I forget to notice it. There are too many times when a Sunday afternoon trip to the park seems like an inconvenience until I remember that a Sunday afternoon trip to the park is the perfect reminder that Sunday afternoons should be spent on a bike or on a swing or at a park or ANYWHERE but home folding laundry. 

Blogging helps me remember that.

And I'm worried that I'll forget all of the funny stories that make childhood so ridiculous and fucking magical at the same time. Like the time one of our chickens had a mysterious hurt foot and lay dying in the hen house (fun fact- unless you are a chicken- chickens cannot balance on one foot and will die quickly once they become immobile) and Clementine's heart just about burst with sadness. "Oh, Mom, we have to help her!" she cried. 

For ten days I hauled that bird out of the henhouse and coaxed her to eat and drink and showed her how to balance with her wing. I praised and encouraged her but also employed some tough love. I'm sure the neighbors assume I am insane. 

One day when I came home from work, Clementine greeted me at the door. "She can walk again! We fixed the chicken!"

Also, I really like to make things. Like Buche de Noel cakes:

Blogging helps me remember some of our more random holiday traditions.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how I frame my thinking. Taking pictures has always helped me to really see the beautiful moments that compose my life. 

But mostly I want to blog again because I want us to remember what 2018 was like. I spent a good part of Christmas Eve poring through our old family albums at my dad's house.  Here was my childhood, sandwiched into dusty old books and binders.

This blog is my children's childhood.

I've grown tired of hearing myself make the same excuse for not doing the things I want to do: I don't have enough time. 

I've grown tired of talking to my friends about how busy we all are and how there's not enough time to hang out.

Sawyer prattles on about school as we drive to piano practice. I am thinking about what we will have for dinner but I catch something about growth mindset. 

"And so my group tells me, 'You're not bad at reading in French, you're just not good at it yet.'"

Hmmm. Some rusty wheels have begun to spin.

First, let's give a shout out to his teacher for teaching the whole child (in addition to math and reading!) and now let's see if we can apply this hippie shit to the real world.

So, maybe I do have enough hours in my day, I just haven't figured out how to use them yet?

Time will tell. I have my running clothes set out for tomorrow morning. I am thinking of ideas for another blog post. 

And let's close this by acknowledging that if Kate Klein can move her entire family to the other side of the world and teach full time while navigating the complexities of life in China AND update her blog twice in one week (!!) perhaps it's time for me to stop the bullshit excuses and start writing again.

Kate, this one is for you. XOXO


  1. Love this! Glad to see you back! I go through the same blogging lulls...and then make declarations...and then lull again. Ah well.

  2. I was crying before you began. I am so proud of you. And this blog, here, is why I am inspired to write mine. You planted that seed, you showed me the way (in more ways than one). Thank you, my friend. XOXO...right back at you.