I know that bestowing my grandpa’s name on my son does not magically knit his qualities into my son’s being, but every time I call him Conor Nicholas, it is a reminder for me to pray for these things to rise up in him—his work ethic, curiosity, willingness to help, his joy and optimism, the way he loves with all of who he is.
Currently, at a child sized table outside my daughter’s ballet class, next to my giggling son plugged into his tablet.
At the old Birdbath Bakery on Columbus the day after the city was hushed by a February blizzard.
In my bed on a Saturday afternoon with a locked door and the joyful sound of my husband playing with our children in the living room easing my mind.
On many runs around the lower loop of Central Park in all seasons, feet pounding words loose and lungs expanding enough to breathe those words back out on a page as soon as I get home.
At a small table in the back of Irving Farm where I know the lack of wi-fi will keep me focused on the page.
Hi! I’m Jodie. I’m a Montana girl at heart living my dream life in New York City with my husband, Brett and children, Norah & Conor who all love adventure as much as I do. Yes, we live in the city. Yes, we love it.
There is a photo wall in my mother-in-law’s house of their family skiing. At the center are photos of Brett and his older brother Shawn learning to ski as toddlers in the 80s, when they donned sunglasses with a strap around the back instead of goggles, and fuzzy hats with a puffball on top instead of helmets. One of the photos is when Brett was maybe 8 or 9 years old and Shawn was 11 or 12. They are both wearing ski jackets hand-sewn by my mother-in-law, Karen.