I finished grad school in the spring of 2006, and that fall I stayed on at my university as a part-time lecturer in Spanish. I also found out I was pregnant that fall. I continued my teaching job until a few weeks before the spring semester ended, when Gigi was born. I was never so career-driven that I wanted to pursue full-time teaching (not that the California budget made that a possibility anyway) or PhD, much to the disappointment of a few of my professors. I knew I wanted to stay home with my baby girl.
But I've always been an academic. I probably would have considered going back in the fall to teach one class a semester (every autumn I'm drawn to school supplies-- bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils, anyone?-- and books and curriculum and learning) if we hadn't moved out of state, where I had no university connections.
It was there, in Colorado, where I first settled into officially being "at home." I joined a wonderful moms' Bible study and enjoyed days full of analyzing my baby's schedule, making baby food, researching cloth diapers and green living, documenting milestones, and learning about home management, organization, and productivity.
When I finally decided I needed an outlet for expressing other thoughts, findings, book reviews (besides just the family photo updates that were regularly posted on our family blog), I also discovered that the blogosphere wasn't just a place to park my soapbox (which I've long-since abandoned anyway), it was a real, live community.
The blog community was a place where I could be home-based but also well-connected, and exposed to ideas, deep conversations, and inspiration, my academic mind stimulated and my new-mama heart encouraged. I really fell in love with blogging, and connecting over the enigma that is the internet with other kindred spirits who tap down thoughts and click publish.
When I started my first non-family-photo-album blog, I chose the name Gidget Goes Green, enjoying the alliteration and fun use of my childhood pseudonym of choice, along with my new passion to research and write about green living.
But very shortly thereafter (maybe a month later?), I changed the name-- I wanted to broaden my writing topics, and I realized that most everything I wanted to write about related in one way or another to the home. Not just to the physical walls and roof, but to a heart of hospitality, to the elements of homemaking, to the place where we gather to love, and eat, and discuss the deeper issues of life.
Last week I read an old-ish post by Emily Freeman that I really loved and was struck with resounding feelings of yes, when I read these words:
Home isn’t either beautiful or not, happy or sad, full or empty. Home is both and home is and, whether home is church or family or a cul-de-sac. Home has good parts, hard parts, marvelous and miracle parts. Home is where we celebrate and where we grieve, where we are broken and healed, hurt and made whole again.
It's a more-eloquent version of how I've described the idea of home before, and it's a beautiful description of the place where we each come back to over and over and where we welcome others in and show them who we really are.
Someday, I may change the name of this little blog, who knows. But my hope is that it's always a virtual reflection of what a real home is-- the both and the and, a place that welcomes and nourishes, inspires, and fosters community.
And so thanks for being here. You are most welcome.