Everyone You Leave Behind

I’ve been tumbling this post around in my brain the last week, so we’ll see how this goes.

Moving is hard. Last July, when my best left, it was really hard. And now, here we are, having left all of our favorite people 931 miles away. Now that I’m here, so far away, I am so damn happy for her, that they followed their dreams and packed their bags. I get it now. I understand it.

When you move, it’s hard. It’s exciting, but hard. Everything is new, which is great and terrifying. And totally overwhelming. We’ve been here 3 weeks now and I can almost get to Target without mapping it. Your whole life is unfamiliar. You miss your old life, but the missing is so big and the new is so big, that its all just a jumble. And you’re so busy trying to remember where Target is and what your new highways are called and what the hell these turn lanes are that you don’t always feel the enormity of all you’ve left behind.

When someone you love moves, your life is the same, except this big whole where the person you loved used to be. Your days look almost the same, but they’re missing. You can drive by their house and see that they aren’t there. Your favorite places and your favorite things can be littered with all the fun things you used to do together. Your life looks the same, but it’s totally different. You have time to feel all of the feelings of loss, because you aren’t busy relearning your whole world.

I remember when my sister wife from across the street moved to a whole new state. The street we played in, the steps we drew on, the kitchen we snacked in – it all looked the same but it wasn’t. My whole day changed. Eventually, our afternoons filled in with new activities. Our mornings had new play dates. We made new friends. Phone dates replaced coffee dates. But man, I was sad.

I miss my friends. And my friends’ kids. And I’m so sad that I’m making them sad, by leaving this Ockwig sized hole in their lives. But you guys. If you feel like you need to move, do it. If you long for a new adventure and unfamiliar road names and unknown Targets, go for it. You can’t live your life for someone else.

Life is short and the world is big. This new adventure has been so amazing that it’s worth every bit of hard on this end. But getting there is hard.

So, Minnesota, we miss you. We’d love for you to join us. We can’t wait to see you. And thank you for all the high fives and cheerleading.

Trick or Treat Street at the Children’s Museum Denver

On Friday, the kids and I headed to the Denver Children’s Museum for their Halloween bash, Trick or Treat Street. We’ve been Denver residents for about two weeks, and member of the Children’s Museum for 12-ish days. We loved going as visitors to Colorado and now that we can go anytime we want, we really love it.


We’re still discovering new parts of the Children’s Museum and falling more in love with the familiar spots. On Friday, we particularly enjoyed jumping on hay bales, driving the truck, and building sand castles.


We took advantage of Rocky Mountain Mini Train (definitely worth the $2). We watched a scary science show, scored lots of free treats and some tasty lemonade, and grabbed a hot dog lunch.


We were so excited to discover the bubble room! This was our 4th visit to the museum, but this spot was always too busy to check out. We had a blast blowing bubbles! These vapor filled bubbles? Kind of the coolest. They have a bubble solution recipe on their website you should check out if you’re in the mood to DIY.


We swung by the market, where my kids sold me some overpriced cheese and milk. It’s amazing how much fun they can have, just pretending. Stocking and restocking. Cooking. Arranging.


One of their favorite stops indoors has been the Altitude. Wilson was so proud to have made it to the very top of this incredible structure, with the help of his best cheerleader, of course.


We took the trolly to REI, thinking that was closer to where we parked. I’m not entirely sure it was closer, but I got a Starbucks out of it and Wilson met Wilson, so everyone won (except Matilda, who conked her head and was super sad until she crashed in the car on the way home.)


We’re making the most of this solo fall, trying to squeeze in as many fun, family dates as we can.

All On My Own

When we were still prepping to move, someone said, “Oh, you can always come back.” And I said, no. And they said, “But don’t you have any friends here? How could you just leave your friends?” Oh, I have the very best of friends. My tribe is so special, you guys.


Which brings us to today. The first day I’m really feeling the sting of flying solo. Normally, today, I’d be texting Tara planning our outing. We’d have until 1 to play, because Wilson has school at 1:30. Tuesdays was usually Biz, because that’s when our schedules lined up. Katie would be lunch dates, because preschool every morning. Stefany had Friday’s free.

Today I’m on my own. We’re going to our new Children’s Museum alone, with just us. Ryan’s back to work. It’s just me and the kids, living this new life that we dreamed up. And I’m really sad about it. I know new friends will come, but they won’t be my old my friends. And I really love my old friends.


It’s okay to want something huge and scary and be so excited and still be sad. Today, I’m feeling the loss. Tomorrow, we’ll climb mountains, but today is hard.



A Journey of 1000 Miles

… begins with a single step. But this journey was only 931 miles.

We started the day off with last minute cleaning and packing (meaning, fit all the things in the van), a play date to exhaust the kids (which failed), last minute hugs from our favorite friends, and a big wave goodbye to the house we brought Wilson home to.


You guys, some people really like to drive. 12 hours and 39 minutes is a quick, easy jaunt to them. And I am not one of those people. But I contained my complaints knowing that me begging to stop would only 1. Delay arrival in CO and 2. inspire the littles to start complaining.


The kids did awesome. Iowa and Nebraska are really big states and, sadly, it was really cold so we couldn’t do the fun things we wanted to do along the way. But Wilson did get his hotel stay, and Matilda got all the tablet time she could handle.



We had approximately 34 minutes of heavenly double nap, and it was amazing. Luckily, Wilson woke up just as we approached a gas station for the first time in an hour, and we convinced him to get back in the car with a bag of M&Ms.


When we left Nebraska that morning, I told Ryan that I really wanted to hit this open house on the way to Jen’s. Because obviously we’re going to just swing by an open house as soon as we’re in town. It was going to be close, Ryan said, especially with lunch and mandatory bathroom breaks (4 year old bladders are smaller than glasses of chocolate milk). But we made it! 


It wasn’t our dream house, but it did make our dream more of a reality. We explored and imagined our life here. We headed to Jen’s, went out for dinner, came home and crashed.  We enjoyed beautiful mountain views and the most amazing sunset from the rooftop patio and the kids were a little obsessed with the revolving door.


It felt good to be home, even just our in-between home.


The Last Time

We’re several hours into the first of what I imagine will be many cross-country drives. We’ve only stopped twice, we just booked our hotel room for the night, and barely anyone’s cried.

Today was was the beginning of a whole new world of firsts. And the end of six weeks of lasts. The last time we’d roll down our favorite hill. The last time we’d eat at our favorite breakfast place. The last time at the big mall or Eagles Nest or our local Target. And the really hard lasts: the last hug from all of our favorite people. The last play dates with my very best friends. The last dinners. The last coffee dates. The last photo dates. The lasts.

Last night was our last night in the house we loved so much. The house we brought Wilson home to. The house we had our first day of school in. The house we laughed and cried and rebuilt. The house that we wallpapered with photos I took of all of our favorite adventures. The house that we made so much our home.

And now, a new chapter. A big, scary chapter filled with new firsts. With all sorts of firsts and unfamiliarity. And we absolutely cannot wait.

It was hard, all of the lasts. Well, most of them. Some things were welcome goodbyes. But the best things in life are hard, right?

If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. It’s the hard that makes it great.

– Tom Hanks

Go do big things your heart longs for. It’ll be totally worth it.

Homeschooling for Dummies

This is by no means an expert guide, but mostly a place for me to dump all my links. One day my internet browser with 28 tabs will spontaneously close and I’ll be screwed. So here we go.

Spoiler alert: I have no idea what I’m doing. But I’m excited to try it.

When we started the moving process, we knew we had a place to stay. We decided that we’d sell here, move there, and then figure out what and where we were going to end up. We plan on staying in this next house for a while, and we want to make sure we get it right. Since we don’t have a permanent home yet, we don’t have a school to enroll in. In the interim, we’re homeschooling.


I’m excited. And terrified. But excited. We’ve dealt with so much anxiety around school, I think this time together will help ease the transitions. We’ll have the freedom to explore. To get to know this new place together. All while squeezing in some actual school work.

I’ve been doing some reading on the regulations for homeschooling in Colorado, joined a few facebook groups, visited a local homeschooling store, and I’m feeling pretty darn good about this. I mean, if I totally screw this up, at least we have a while to get back on track before she goes to high school.

And here’s a brain dump of all my open tabs:










We’re moving.

We’re doing it. We’re moving. To Denver. We’re packing up our whole lives to try something crazy and new, for no other reason than we really, really want to. (Which, I’ve realized, is really hard for some people to understand.) Last summer, we spent a week in Denver staying with a friend I met on the internet. (No. For real. Brooke and I met IRL for the first time when we met her at the aquarium before sleeping at her house.) Ryan and I stood in the mountains and looked at each other. We could live here. That’d be fun. 

And then my best friend, my co-parent, my mid-afternoon coffee-on-the-front-steps-while-the-kids-bike neighbor across the street moved. And Ryan and I looked at each other and said, hey, we could do that. But could we? Could we really pack up all of our lives and leave our friends and our history and our families behind? Could we give up a whole life of familiarity for a wild and crazy dream? Yup. We sure could.

This summer, when my cousin offered us a free place to stay, we booked our flights and headed back. We knew.


Here we are, a year later. Most of my life is in boxes. My walls are bare. We’re so ready, you guys. SO ready. And I get that not everyone gets it. And that’s cool, because this feels so crazy right. We’re going to go live by the mountains, we might go skiing, we’re going to scope out all that Colorado has to offer.

And we’re really dang excited.

But it’s hard, you guys. Packing your life and selling your house and starting new jobs is hard. And saying goodbye to all of your friends is so hard. These are the friendships I’ve waited my whole life for, and I have some really kick ass friends. And we’re changing all of that, to go chase some dreams. Building a whole spankin’ new life. With the four of us at the core.


Life doesn’t have to be what it was. It’s okay to do something new, even if the old was find. It’s okay to make selfish choices for your family, it’s okay to follow your dreams and to listen to your heart. It’s okay. You can do this. You can do whatever the hell you want to live your best life, with whomever you want to live it with.

So, if you’re on the fence, do it. Take the job, sell the house. (I mean, ask me in 3 weeks when we’re all on top of each other in my cousin’s house, driving each other nuts, and I might change my mind.) And if someone you love is chasing crazy dreams across the country, don’t be mad. It’s not you, it’s them. And that’s okay. Cheer them on. Help them pack. Babysit their kids while they patch the holes in their walls. Whatever you want to do, just show up for them. You can’t ask them to live your version of their life.

I can’t wait to share this journey with you. This wild and crazy adventure. I’d like to blog more, as we work through this.. Here we go! Final countdown is on.


Summer Bucket List

Summer is coming. I am longing and dreaming and impatiently waiting for June 7th, the day that our school days end and our freedom returns. Days open to explore and adventure, without an itinerary beyond living our very best life.
We’re bucket listing this summer. Because time passes and we forget all of the wonderful places we wanted to go until it’s a little too late to go there. It’s not a to do list, but an ongoing reminder.

Here we go!

Rainy Day Activities

Saying Yes, a Weekend in Duluth

A few weekends ago, with nothing on the calendar (I’m intentionally keeping our weekends free, lately, and it’s absolutely incredible), Matilda asked if we could spend the night in Duluth. She wanted to throw rocks in the lake. She offered to pay. How could we possibly say no?


Throwing rocks in the lake is one of my favorite things. The big blue skies, the water that goes on for days. Nothing to do but wait. Of course I said yes. I hesitate briefly, because I was on day 3 of the Whole30-ish and traveling sounded absolutely terrible. I mean, whatever. Yolo. Pack some carrots and almonds and just roll with it.

It was amazing.


We spent Saturday exploring, we started at Gooseberry Falls, hit up our favorite Two Harbors beaches on our way back, and made it back to Duluth just in time for check in.


We squeaked in to the last available room at Comfort Inn on Canal Park. It was gorgeous. We’d stayed at The Inn on Lake Superior last summer, and, while those balconies are dreamy, they had a two night minimum and it was out of our budget. After staying in the recently remodeled Comfort Inn, I’d definitely go back. The kids loved the beds and their supreme jump-ability. I’d pay extra for a room with a balcony next time. Their free breakfast was quick and had something for everyone.


We checked out Canal Park, which was kind of a mess after the giant blizzard the week before. It was absolutely beautiful. We always head north in the summer, along with everyone else in the state. Somehow we lucked out with sunny, 50’s, and no wind. A quick trip to refresh and recharge.


We’re staying in a lakeside townhome in Lutsen in July and can’t wait! What are your favorite things to do along the North Shore?

The Point.

For the longest time, I didn’t write because I didn’t know what to write. What could I possibly add to the internet, when everyone’s always said it already? What new and original ideas do I have to share?

Let’s be clear, I have no intentions of coming up with any earth-shattering innovative ideas. I want to blog for me. For my kids. To share these adventures, to tell our ordinary story. I long to tell the full story, the context behind the photos. So here we go. Let the blogging begin.


Wilson is Four.

Four years ago, I woke up early in the morning. One week after we’d moved in to our forever home. One week before his c section date. 15 weeks in to placenta previa, I’d finally had my first bleed. We woke up Matilda and headed to the hospital.

My birth was not awesome. The first few days after were terrible. The entire first week he was here, I cried. It was hard. It was so much harder than I was ready for it to be. We can laugh now about the shit show that was that chapter, but it was hard. 

But here we are. Four amazing years later. And life is so so good.
Wilson, happy birthday. You do your own thing, in your own time. And you always have. You figure things out. You problem solve, deconstruct. I see so much of your father in you. I can watch the little gears turn in your head. You’re a planner. You’re a lover. Oh, Wilson. You love to hug. Your hugs can change the world.

Your favorite things. Grilled cheese. Ketchup. French Fries. Chocolate Milk. (Clearly, you’re a health nut.) Your sister, Iz, and Shep. And me and your dad, obviously. Riding your bike (and your scooter). The beach. Nickelodeon Universe. The Children’s Museum. The Garbage Park (aka Franconia). Culver’s, McDonald’s, Noodles & Co, and DIY pizza from Papa Murphy’s. Trucks. Trucks. Cars. Police Playmobil set. Trucks. IRL trucks.


You’re hilarious. Your confidence is astounding. You will explain anything to anyone with complete conviction. You are the man with the answers. And the questions. You love a good adventure, especially with friends (and sissy). You’re so curious, always excited to learn and explore.

But Wilson. Your lower lip. You know how to pout like no one I’ve ever met. You feel big, and you make sure that everyone knows where you stand.


Wilson, you are so dang incredible. You light up a room (or you shut that party down based on your current mood). If you’re having a moment, which happens frequently, you need hugs, lots and lots of hugs. You do things your own way, in your own time. I laugh thinking of how we potty trained you. You were almost 3.5 and it was very much time. You woke up one morning and I told you that this was your idea. That you decided you weren’t going to wear diapers. You rolled with it. You owned it. And you didn’t. Once you decide something, there’s no stopping you.

I love you. Happy 4, Wilson. Happy 4. Thanks for letting me be your mom.


Just another Tuesay

January 9th, sleeping in late. Exploring new possibilities. Dreaming big dreams. Dancing in puddles and soaking up the 40 degree sun. Couch surfing, because we didn’t hear the please do not jump on the sofa. Bike riding and welcome home’s. Puddle jumping. Sink fixing.

A million little unimportant moments make up childhood. That’s all it is. Dirty noses, messy hair. This year, I’m working on documenting the in between. Telling the familiar stories, knowing that one day soon, they won’t be familiar and I’ll be missing them. They visitor who crawls in to bed sometime before 6 am. The angry eyes. The laughter. The inquisitiveness and eagerness and curiosities.


One day these little moments will be the big moment.

This post is part of a monthly blog circle where photographers feature ten photos from the previous month. To continue the circle follow, click here to check out Jessica Hachey‘s 10 on 10 adventure.


Uncomfortable. It’s something I’ve literally always avoided. I’d rather just not, and stay in my comfortable and familiar place.

This year, you guys, it’s all about being uncomfortable.

Things don’t change without discomfort. Trying new things isn’t easy. Growth isn’t easy, learning, failure. You have to be uncomfortable first. Trying new things is scary. It’s hard to change.


I tell my kids that they need to try new things. That it’s okay to fail. That they don’t have to be perfect. Here I am, avoiding new things, afraid to fail. What is this? Why am I afraid? Who am I afraid of? A bunch of strangers on the internet scrolling past my photos instead of stopping and liking them? Nonsense.

This year, it’s going to hurt. That good hurt that you get after a really good workout (which is also on my 2018 to-do list…). It’s going to be a year of stretching out who I am, what I know how to do. Adventuring past familiar.

I’m teaching a class next week. You guys. I’m teaching. A. Class. Who said I could teach my own class? What makes me qualified? Why am I enough of an expert in anything to tell anyone else what to do? Well, I’m not. And I guess I said I could teach a class. And sure, it’s new. And scary. And I could fail miserably, but I’m doing it anyway. 

Minnesota Mom121117_0613

I am not one for resolutions. But I can see things that I would like to improve on this year, areas for growth and reflection. Spots than I can strengthen. Like the BeachBody spot, for one. I’d like to make it to the part where I can sit down the day after PIYO and  get back up again. See, uncomfortable goals.

I’d like to say no. And say yes. To say, hey, I think we should not to some relationships in my life. Close some open doors. Open some closed doors. Hell, let’s work out all those hard feelings in 2018.


2017 was a big year for me. I finally became comfortable knowing who I am in a whole bunch of ways. I found my creative voice, my place in this noisy world of photography on the internet. 2018 is all about growing that comfortable to who new uncomfortable levels.

So let’s do this. Let’s go further than we thought possible. Let’s try new things. Let’s say yes, and more importantly, let’s say no. Let’s know who we are.

Ice Skating in St Paul

Some families see Santa once. That’s their Santa. That’s not how we roll. Much like fall, we’re working on exploring as much of our local seasonal activities as we can. We’ve learned a lot this last month. I think we’ve tallied our list on things we would try again, things we’d pass on, things we’d do earlier.

I am a huge wuss when it comes to the cold. I’d rather experience it as little as possible. This late winter arrival surprised us with one last glorious weekend to do two things that were on our to-do list all of last winter and we never got to (or even attempted to do…).


Saturday night, we loaded up the kids, threw the coats in the trunk, and headed down to Rice Park in St Paul for Christmas lights and Wells Fargo WinterSkate. You guys. It was wonderful. It certainly helped that it was a balmy 40 degrees out, but it was so fun to be out after dar, surrounded by so many of my favorite things: little white lights. And my family, obviously.


Parking was a breeze, even during a Wild game (leaving was another story. IDK WTF St Paul Police was doing to route traffic, but it was a mess.). Parking stresses me out, and I like to be close knowing that we will soon lose our shit and need to book it to the car. Even with the accidentally leaving at the same time the game got out SNAFU, I did prefer the parking situation in St Paul over the Minneapolis one.


We wandered Rice Park and headed to the Wells Fargo rink. Totally worth the $4 to skate. One thing that I did prefer at the Holidazzle was that they have the little handle bar contraptions to help kids skate. For newbies, like us, those would have been pretty awesome.


I honestly didn’t know what to expect out of skating. Wilson can be one of the grumpiest kids you’ve ever met and has strong opinions about most things in life, including all winter outerwear. He happily ripped off his shoes in exchange for skates, and even willingly wore his hat and gloves.


We will definitely do this again. Okay, let’s be real. If it’s open and it’s above freezing, we will definitely do this again. Any recommendations for indoor skating rinks in the metro?


Next time, I think I’d like to make more of an evening out of it. I’d like to check out the European Christmas Market at Union Depot, but we ran out of time (and patience).

Riding the Union Depot North Pole Express

In an attempt to winter as hard as we fall’ed, we did our first ticketed holiday event of the season. We’re working our way through a to-do list of Minneapolis and St Paul holiday festivities to get us through winter. Back in October (way to plan ahead, self! High fives!), I purchased tickets to the Union Depot North Pole Express. When we were discussing dates, we opted for a Friday afternoon, thinking that 1. the kids would be less of a hot mess and 2. it wouldn’t be as busy.  

Minneapolis Mom Blogger Union Depot 1



In hindsight, I was a little right, but what else is new. Wilson woke up a hot mess, it wasn’t busy (we did upgrade to the First Class option, though), but looking at the schedule of events today, I really wish we’d done the mid-afternoon option so we could hit up the European Christmas Market and the Tree Lighting. Most of the Union Depot was blocked off for the movie night, so space to run and play was limited. We did appreciate the train tables by Choo Choo Bob’s to play with while we waited. We’re definitely adding a stop to that shop in the very near future.



The event was fun. Staff was really, really wonderful and friendly. The train ride was slow and pretty quick. Wilson was a little angry that we did not go to the North Pole, as promised by the conductor. Matilda enjoyed the entertainment from Choo Choo Bob’s Engineer Paul, and the free face painting. We sipped hot cocoa and snacked on cookies.


If we did it again next year, I’d definitely consult calendars a little closer. I’m not sure if tree lighting and movie nights and European Markets are planned in October, when tickets go on sale, but I’m hoping I’ll remember to book the mid-afternoon outing instead of the early afternoon.

Next weekend, we’re checking out the Minnesota Transportation Museum’s Santa Train. We went last year, but forgot until about an hour before it ended, so it was a bit rushed. At roughly a third of the price of the Union Depot event, I have high hopes that this one will be our favorite of the two.

Have you done both Santa Trains? What are your thoughts? I’ll compare my favorites of each next week!