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Hello!

My name is Katlyn and I’m a freelance writer who works from home with my two toddlers and Labrador Retriever. My husband and I have been married for nine years and we are living at our seventh address in our fourth state. For work, I write what I’ve been assigned. Here, I write what’s on my heart and mind.

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One day, probably not too far from now, I’ll be at the end of a long Monday and I will look out my kitchen window and the grass will be mowed.

Keeper of the schedules and finder of the socks.

I listened to the coffee percolate as I looked out the window at the wet snow that hung heavy on branches of spring blooms. Nine days until May and we woke up to nearly half a foot of snow. I wondered if the rose bushes that had started to bud or the clematis vine that had turned green would survive this late blanket of winter. Snow a month into spring isn’t unusual in Ohio, but a deep snow is. Two weeks ago, I sunbathed on my back patio in my swimsuit. Today, the same chair I had sat in with a book was buried under fresh powder.

There will come a day I will no longer get to tell them “good night” every night.

Having children makes you urgently aware of the future. Of how the decisions we make today set the landscape of their tomorrow. My choices today, my actions today, are shaping the world these two and all of their friends and peers will step into.

Last weekend we put board and batten in our back hallway. We’re so happy with how the project turned out and for this space to start working for us!

“I wonder what my grandpa would think about me using his level to build something. I was told he knew I was on the way. My mom was pregnant with me when he died. So, in a way, I feel like I would have been to him what he is to me: known, but not. I wonder if it would make him happy that I am using his tools to build a place where his great-grandchildren will hang their coats and school bags.”

“The heartbreak over the impermanence of life only exists with the moments we don’t want to lose. The ones that make us want to press pause and linger in like a long, summer afternoon. How is it that those moments seem so few and far between and the difficult and mundane can seem so common? Is it as simple as a perspective shift? An attitude adjustment? Why do we wish away Mondays and set our sights on the weekend?”

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