It's good to be curious about many things.

“If you write your first blog post in a super long time on your phone, does the process become less intimidating?” She said, as she typed her first blog post in a super long time on her phone.

I’m on my own now. Figuratively! Losing my Momaha platform was hard, because I loved the comfort of a routine and the whip crack of a deadline. Momaha got me writing with a regularity I’d never before possessed, connected me with a great editor, and pushed me to reflect on a lot of aspects of parenting I might’ve otherwise ignored.

We’ve spent the summer in the throes of transition, Matt and the girls getting used to a city they know and don’t know at all. Me getting reacquainted with a place that has changed immensely since I last lived here while also staying the exact same. Basically, we’ve been mired in a paradox, and our coping mechanism has involved Hulu and spending a lot of money on groceries. (Also: groceries are way more expensive here! I miss HyVee.)

Over the last few months, we’ve traveled to Minnesota, spent time at Matt’s dad’s cabin on Thunder Lake, and visited with Grammie and Papa. We’ve explored new playgrounds and met some new babysitters. We’ve been hanging out with Grandma, and by “hanging out,” I mean we’ve been living with her while trying not to further overstay our overstayed welcome. Recently, we met Samuel Paul, Mary Clare’s new baby and the girls’ new cousin, which has been so wonderful and deserves an entire post of its own.

Matt has embraced public transportation- his schedule now timed with more precision than an atomic clock. The girls are huge fans of his new office, for its obtrusive height and proximity to their favorite Cardinals-themed restaurant. I’m learning to work remotely, with only middling success and a whole lot of gratitude for a patient employer.

Matt’s been training for a marathon, and, at my sister’s behest, I’ve subscribed to ClassPass. If you’ve never used ClassPass, imagine the anxiety and uncertainty that come with your first time in a new workout class. Now repeat that feeling EVERY TIME you use your ClassPass. That’s how it works.

Honestly though, ClassPass led me to discover a little cycling studio I really like, so thanks I guess.

The girls have started new schools- Emilia at the same grade school I attended, and Grace at a wonderful preschool she seems to love (good snacks, art supplies, classmates who enjoy the same illogically premised imaginary play scenarios she does). Phoebe has mostly been with sitters but started a program at a local Presbyterian Church on Wednesdays, and if you for a second leave her out of a school-centric conversation, she’ll set you straight real fast. “I GO SCHOOL!”

These new beginnings feel so monumental because everything is so different. We are all working on getting our footing, making friends, trying not to let our nerves and self-doubt get the best of us.

“It’s good to be curious about many things.” -Fred Rogers

This summer also marked the tenth anniversary of my dad’s death. Shortly before, I’d gone to see “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” with my mom. It made me smile lot and cry a little. And it also got me thinking about how similar in temperament and life approach Fred Rogers was to my dad.

Kind.

Cerebral.

Spiritual.

Gentle but not meek.

Curious.

Somewhere in there, Anthony Bourdain died as well, which added another piece of red yarn to the bulletin board in my head. All three of these great people, only one of whom I knew but knew well, were unceasingly curious.

They asked people questions, genuinely wanting to know the answers.

They listened.

They approached new people and places with optimism, believing that learning anything new would be a great outcome.

Their armor was compassion, plowing forward in the face of change or adversity with the belief that a warm, inquisitive conversation can take you further than any ego-driven flailing.

They were people who sought to contextualize differences in order to foster connections.

They were people who wanted to understand.

Last year, for Momaha, I wrote Emilia a letter for the first day of kindergarten. I told her to be brave and to be kind.

This year, brave and kind Emilia, in your fourth week of first grade at a new school... Grace, on your third week in the Superstar room... Phoebe, as you explore your small world and wade into fresh adventures... Matt, as you take on your not-so-new new job with your wry wit, stealth charm and encyclopedic brain...

Me, as I fumble through motherhood in a place that doesn't really know me yet...

Let’s be curious.

Let’s ask questions, really hear the answers, hope to discover, seek to understand.

There are a lot of cool things about us. Matt is very funny. Emilia is clever. Grace makes awesome music videos by herself when no one is watching except me from around the corner.

But the best thing about us, the best thing about anyone, is our capacity to listen to other people’s stories. Because the more we know, the less we have to assume, or judge, or fear. The less kindling there is for insecurity or intimidation. The more opportunity there is to make friends, expand our horizons, connect with people who might need our presence as much as we need theirs.

Being curious can only be good, unless you’re a cat. And if you’re a cat, stop reading this. It’s only for people.

Anyway, hello, St. Louis.

To our families, thank you for loving us through a crazy time.

And Matt, Emilia, Grace, Phoebe, here’s to a curious year.