For anyone who follows along on instagram you can see we moved…again. Still in the Adirondacks, but into a new home. In 2015, we moved to the Adirondacks with anticipated housing. However, things have not gone as planned and here we are in our fourth house in less than three years. And even this placement is not exactly permanent. I am not going to lie – this is a major stress in our life, but when I am feeling my best self –  I breathe and accept this journey for what it is. Each move so far has provided a ton of stress, but also so many moments of fun and joy. I do not want to sugar coat this and act like we (I) do not have have moments of meltdown, moments where I am so overwhelmed with our lack of “structure” I cannot breath. Moments where I go down a deep rabbit hole wondering how all this moving will affect our kids in the future. Then there are moments (usually during the brief part of the day where everyone is happy and no one is whining/screaming/hurt/hungry/bored, etc) where I am so grateful for this season of our life.



Prior to moving to the Adirondacks, I whole heartedly was a city person. I lived in NYC as a young, single teacher before moving to an awesome part of Nashville on a whim. I love walking places, new restaurants, an abundance of events and classes and people. I love the diversity of people and the hustle of life. Living a rural mountain life was never on my radar. I will be honest, it wasn’t even on my vacation list. However, I have to admit that pre-kids Dominique and I were playing a fun game in our old loft talking about 3/5/10 year goals. I can actually picture where we were sitting and the excitement of thinking about the “future”.  I told Dominique I would move to one “insane” place for a few years in order for him to pursue his goals. One. I suppose he has cashed in on that.

With all that said, I have taken and continue to learn so much from this adventure. My kids – while they think of houses as brief stopping points and talk about packing as if it is a normal occurrence – love their life. They are constantly outdoors riding bikes, making messes and being kids. It does not matter the temperature, if it is raining/snowing/sunny/hot/cold they will be outside. My kids (and me) love that every event we do go to – we are certain to run into people we know. People we love. Things that were “extra” before are now our normal – from going for a hike, to swimming in the lake, and taking out the canoes to snowshoeing or riding bikes on the trails.

All of this and more are things that make so much of this chaos – worth it. I do not know where we will land in the future (near or far), but for now we are back on campus, in a home (peace out dorm life) and making the most of this journey. Even if at times the journey is infused with stressed out meltdowns and anxiety about whats next.


Finding old Blog Drafts

I was in the process of cleaning up the old blog. Going through half started blog posts, deleting old entries that have one sentence and 15 pictures. As I read through, I came across this post that was started nearly a year ago. I am not sure why I never posted this piece. Perhaps because there is shame in admitting you live with your parents or maybe Nola woke up. Whatever the case, I decided to post it a year later because pretty much not much has change. I didn’t take the job, I am still at my parents and Dominique and I are still very much trying to figure out the best path for our family. All while shacking up with Nance and Ed. 


It is the end of a long LONG week.

I am exhausted. Not just tired from pulling an all nighter exhausted, but every movement feels like you are lifting in some weird crossfit competition (sorry crossfit people – I actually have no idea what it is you do – it just scares me).

Dominique is upstairs trying to finish off the job of getting Flynn to sleep. Nola oddly passed out laying next to in my bed while I watched a video for work. And so now I am sitting, drinking some fruity beer, missing Nashville. A LOT.

I am not sure what triggers the sadness of missing Nashville, but when it happens it feels like more than just missing a city – a city that changed my life so much.

I miss our house. The house where I became a mom. Where Flynn learned to crawl besides knob and tube wiring (if you don’t know what that is – just know I don’t think it is safe). I miss waking up early and walking to get coffee on Saturdays or the Farmers Market on Sundays. I miss our neighbors. Our friends.

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I miss the quiet, but not so quiet togetherness of our weekends.

What I don’t miss is the stress of being a working mom. Of unreliable childcare. Of feeling like I am failing at work while also neglecting my new baby. Missing out on the social and fun parts of my job just so I can run home and snuggle my son before starting the daily grind all over again.

As many of you know, last summer after a rough year as a working mom (despite having the best boss and coworkers ever) and a new baby set to arrive in November, Dominique and I decided moving closer to my family would be best. Since not many people in the education field (or probably any field) want to hire a 7 month pregnant lady, we moved in with my parents, and I have been staying home with the two babes. It has been amazing. While living with your parents at any age is never easy, even at 2 – Flynn would probably like to live sans Mom and Dad so he can sit around eating TJ star cookies and peeing on the floor – this year with my parents has been a wonderful experience. I miss Nashville dearly. And sometimes wonder if we made the right decision, but watching Flynn run and hug my mom when she returns home from work or see him pull my Dad’s ID badge and say Peace Out Poppy when he stops in at lunch make all the challenges of living with roommates (who happen to also be  your parents) worth it.


As we begin to think about the upcoming months and my possible return to work I am overcome with great sadness. It is not like I am returning to a workplace I know and love. It no longer exists. Our admin team tossed across the country, the teachers scattered to new careers and new schools. I would be returning to a new adventure . A new role. A new set of expectations and responsibilities. I also would be leaving two babies. Two babies, who despite sending text to my husband saying please get home and making inappropriate references to Andrea Yates, bring me great joy. I enjoy the slow pace of the morning. The ability to look at the weather and determine what crazy adventure am I going to try to embark on today. The lack of fear or regret I experience by being able to be there for each new milestone and funny conversation. Being a mom is all I ever wanted – the lack of sleep, the vomit, the tantrums – all of it is exactly what I wanted.

This post started out as a story about how much I miss Nashville, but somewhere along the way, I realized what I gave that up for and it became the story of why I am willing to do this insane crazy thing called shacking up with Nance and Ed – just so I can be home with Flynn and Nola.

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I know this season will eventually end. I will perhaps return to work or Dominique will take a job hours away from my family. Living at home is a huge blessing. It also is extremely challenging. However, I will be grateful for this season in my life. Grateful that I spend each day with my two kiddos. Grateful that I am not breaking out in shingles (again) trying to balance work and a babe. Grateful that Flynn and Nola are developing a super close relationship with her grandparents and I am learning how to be a mother from the woman who made every aspect of motherhood look easy from natural child birth to breastfeeding to picking up drunk teenagers from a police station at 2 AM the night before she had relatives arriving for Thanksgiving. I am where I am suppose to be for this season of life, even if I am feeling the lyrics to multiple country music songs about missing Nashville.