In February of 2015, I started this blog. I did it for just one reason: my husband (who can be a bit of a Ron Swanson-type) would not allow me to post pictures of our daughter on social media. As a first time mom and elder-millennial, I was desperate to share images of our child with the world. We compromised on me starting a blog. In time, the blog became more than that. It was a creative outlet. And when I was deep in early parenthood, it was a lifeline. But eventually I had another child.
In the (almost) five years since I have been a mom of two girls, finding my creativity has been tough. I think maybe the act of raising small humans requires so much imagination, innovation, craft, and discipline that I’ve had none of those ingredients to spare.
But I still want to write. I still want to have a record of my family. So I am working on getting back to basics. I am reconnecting to my original drive and intention: this is a place to share pictures of my beautiful kids and talk about the things we do.
Since I have been away for so long, I think I should start at the beginning.
My name is Nico, and this is my family of four, as captured by a professional photographer.
Here is what we really look like:
In January, we moved to Northwest Indiana after spending close to eight years in Yellowstone National Park. (Side note: just this morning my sweet 4-year-old, Vi, told a teacher and a mom at daycare that we used to live in Yellowstone and they giggled like she was a silly kid getting real-life mixed up with a show. I said, “She’s not joking. We used to live there.”) Yes, we lived inside the Park. You can live there if you work there.
Although we met in Carbondale, Illinois (Go Salukis!), Rafal and I grew up in Chicagoland. We love Montana and Wyoming. We love the mountains and wild places. But after 8 years in the wilderness, after a pandemic, after a natural disaster last summer that made us feel trapped (although to be clear, we were not in physical danger), we were ready to come home. Many people, oh so many people, friends and strangers alike have been aghast at this decision. The woman at the BMV for example exclaimed with no filter, “Why would you move here?” But zero of the people who had this reaction have ever lived in a truly remote place.
Our Yellowstone friends understood. As enriching as it is to be in the midst of natural beauty, as delicious as the air and water are, as awe-inspiring as it is to look at mountains and wild animals: being very far away from town and very far away from family and living with limited amenities and having 9 months of winter does it take it’s toll.
During the heat of Covid, some of the same folks who claimed they would like to live in a cabin in the woods were freaking out because they couldn’t go to the movies or walk down to the grocery store at any time they pleased. I don’t think they could hack it in a tiny town up in the mountains.
There is good reason to idealize it. When I am on vacation, I too, imagine a life there. And my life in Yellowstone was a very, very good one. I was just ready for something else.
And I won’t lie: It has been a big adjustment. My tolerance for industry and pollution is low; my nervous system is ill-equipped for all this light and noise. But despite all of that, it just feels settling into a warm bath. It just feels like going home.
We have been drinking up summer in the city with great big gulps. We have been delighting in the resources available to us. Things like live music and street festivals and carnivals. Things like spending time with family and friends.
So we’re stationed in Northwest Indiana. Just about smack dap between Downtown Chicago and Indiana Dunes National Park. When we leave for our commutes in the morning, Rafal and I travel in two different directions; to two different worlds (although to be fair, I only go into the office two days per week).
Come and see us. The water’s fine.
Nico Wildwood 