Hello! I’m Kate.

I’m a writer, maker, mother, professional overdoer, and lifelong believer that most things can be improved with good food, a better system, a little beauty, or an unnecessarily elaborate plan.

I’m the kind of woman who paints the same bedroom six times, turns takeout on a park bench into a proper feast, makes a 65-page guide for a 25-day family vacation, splurges on seasonal bedding, and gets an IDEA that I immediately feel compelled to SHARE WITH THE WORLD.

Hello, and welcome to my wildly, wonderfully EXTRA way of life.

I live in San Francisco with my husband, our two sons, and our dog. I love coffee, swimming in the bay, cooking, traveling, beautiful dresses, flowers, old houses, ridiculous celebrations, making things, rearranging things, and having entirely too many ideas.

I've spent most of my life trying to make a good life. And, perhaps more importantly, how to actually be present enough to enjoy the one I've already made.

I got a little lost there for a while.

In my twenties, I fell spectacularly in love in Italy. I got engaged, got my heart broken, came home, healed, grew, and eventually met the man of my dreams, my best friend and lobster, Dique (DEEK).

We got married and had two babies who grew into two loud, funny, creative humans I genuinely like hanging out with. We built careers and a home and traditions and a village. I spent years working in marketing, eventually climbing from receptionist to leading content for companies you've probably heard of.

I made so so many dinners. I planned birthday parties. I packed lunches. I made holidays magical. I kept track of doctor's appointments and summer camps and groceries and permission slips and everyone's favorite things.

I built a really good life. And somewhere in all that building, I realized I'd gotten pretty good at loving everyone in it except myself.

So, I went looking for her. I read. I wrote. I meditated. I went to therapy. I learned about bodies and worthiness and care. I became a women's coach for a while. I started taking up more space in my body, in my relationships, in my work, and in my own imagination.

I realized that I was not made to be subtle.

And these days I'm less interested in becoming some perfected, optimized, fully actualized version of myself. I'm much more interested in delighting in the woman who's already here.

And continuing to become whoever she becomes next.

Turns out, I've been interested in the same thing all along.

For years I thought all my interests needed separate containers.

There was my writing — the manuscripts in Google Docs that I kept swearing I’d get back to.

There was motherhood and the ways I’m loving and learning how to show up as my boys’ best mom.

There was home — a big renovation! A big move! A 140yo Victorian! Wallpaper, tile, paint, oh my. So much I wanted to share!

There was food, and travel, and following one’s bliss.

There was the systems-obsessed part of my brain that makes elaborate plans and spreadsheets and checklists because that's how I make life work for me.

There was the part of me that wants things to be beautiful.

There was the part that wants to tell stories.

And I thought I had to figure out how to keep these parts of myself separate, but I am the common denominator. And, ultimately, they’re connected by one question:

How do we make a life we actually enjoy being alive for?

Sometimes my answer is an essay, sometimes it's a cleaning system. Sometimes it's a recipe, a printable, a seasonal meal plan, a ridiculously detailed vacation itinerary, or a family tradition worth repeating.

Sometimes it's putting a tablecloth on the coffee table and calling it dinner.

Sometimes it's telling the truth about the man I loved in Italy twenty years ago and what that relationship taught me about loving other people, and myself.

Sometimes it's writing about motherhood, marriage, getting older, friendship, ambition, home, creativity, bodies, or the strange ongoing project of becoming ourselves.

I don't think these things are separate anymore.

The systems matter because the people matter.

I don't want a clean house because I particularly enjoy cleaning. I want a home that can hold family dinners and sleepovers and birthday parties and friends who drop by without me panicking.

I don't care about dinner being impressive. Dinner is, most nights, basic-ass food served at nighttime. But feeding people is one of the oldest ways we tell them they matter.

I don't plan trips because I think vacations need to be optimized within an inch of their lives. I plan them because someday my children will say, "Remember when we...?"

I don't make things beautiful because I think life needs to look perfect.

I make things beautiful because I think ordinary life is worthy of our attention.

It’s All Love, Actually

This is my writing home.

I write about love in all its forms: romantic love, motherhood, marriage, friendship, home, memory, creativity, ourselves, and all the complicated ways we learn to love a life.

Unexpected Smiling is a memoir about falling in and out of love in Italy in my twenties, one installment at a time.

Pretty Good Mom where I write about what I'm learning in these motherhood streets.

Mostly, though, I write because I have things in my head that I want to get onto the page, and because every once in a while, something I write makes another person say, Me, too.

I fucking love that.

Read my writing →

Everyday Così

This is where all that philosophy gets practical.

Everyday Così is my collection of systems, templates, guides, printables, seasonal ideas, recipes, planning tools, and other things I've made because I needed them in my own life.

I have an overactive imagination, high standards, an ADHD brain, and an almost pathological inability to accept that something has to be ugly just because it's practical.

So I make things that work for my brain and make me happy to use them.

Then I share them with you.

Explore Everyday Così →

I suppose that's the simplest explanation.

• I write about loving your life.

• I make things that help you live it.

I'm still figuring things out. There is, in fact, fairly compelling historical evidence that I will announce I've figured something out and then change my mind approximately three weeks later.

I'm okay with that now. Because I don't think the goal is to finally arrive at some fixed, optimized version of ourselves.

I think the goal is to pay attention. To make things, love people, create beauty when we can, laugh at the absurdity, feed each other, wear the dress, use the good dishes, go somewhere wonderful, and come home for more joy and peace.

The goal is to delight in as much of this wild, ordinary life as we're lucky enough to get.

I still love coffee, swimming, cooking, swearing, dancing, beautiful clothes, feeding people, making things, and having entirely too many ideas.

I am still not made to be subtle.

I'm just much less interested these days in becoming someone else.

Turns out, I really like this life, and I really like myself in it. I hope something you find here helps you delight a little more in your life, and in yourself, too.

I'm so glad you're here.

xx
Kate