2025: [gestures broadly toward everything] WTF?

I needed a full 10 weeks to process 2025, hence the delay in this end-of-year update.

Putting the "unprecedented times" aside for a moment, we had a solid year in the Rog-Fried home. Harrison turned 1 at the beginning of the year and began all of those wonderful toddler milestones — walking, talking, crapping in the tub during bath time. While we do miss that sweet little chonky bebe we got to cuddle in 2024, we absolutely adore the hilarious little kiddo he’s turning into as he barrels into toddlerdom.

Probably the biggest change for Harrison, and for our whole family, came in July when we said goodbye to our beloved Miss Nora who got an opportunity to act with a theater troupe in Maine for the summer. While it was incredibly sad for us, it opened up two new opportunities. 1) We got to work with a new nanny for the summer, Miss Yessica, whom Harrison loved almost immediately. 2) It gave us the chance to explore what daycare might look like for our family, and after a thorough research and vetting process (using an epic spreadsheet, I might add), we enrolled Harrison in school starting in October.

I had been forewarned by a few parent friends who had gone through this process before that the transition into daycare was going to be a challenge, especially for a shy kid like our little guy. Yes, there would be tears at drop-off and maybe even pick-up, too, but he’ll adjust in time. Give it a month, they said. All of this was by and large true, and I mentally prepared myself for the separation anxiety to kick in (for both of us) when we started drop-offs, figuring that over the course of the day he’d be fine, join in on the school time fun, and start making friends.

What I was not prepared for were the picture updates we got from the school showcasing the fun activities the kids were doing featuring the saddest boy on the face of the planet™. Not even crying, just so sad. For the better part of a month, Harrison appeared to be going through an existential crisis between the hours of 8am and 5pm Monday to Friday. I am not kidding when I say this was my toughest parenting experience up to that moment: seeing photo after photo of my kid looking f*cking miserable but reminding myself that we just have to wait it out — we’re playing the long game. Fortunately for us, his teachers are absolutely incredible and they recognized that he just needed time and space to open up. We partnered together to find ways to engage with him at school on his terms, which included bringing his own books from home to read with the group at story time and letting him decide when he wanted to participate vs. when he just wanted to observe. About three weeks in, we got our first photo of a happy and smiling Harrison at school.

I’m thrilled to share that Harrison now prefers going to school over spending time with his Mom and Pop, and we couldn’t be happier about it. He loves his teachers, Mr. Terry and Ms. Josie, and has his class of little friends that he’s excited to see each day. His language development, which had been lagging over the last 12 months, has since exploded and he’s doing incredibly well with the curriculum they’ve put together, learning everything from numbers, shapes, and colors to culture and historical figures (like Whitney Houston). I’m prepared to ask them if they can just school him until he’s ready to attend college. They can have all of my money at this point.

Outside of school, Harrison got to travel a bit and even took time to get a figurative stamp in his passport (which features not a picture of Harrison but a mugshot of a 1920s bootlegger) as we took a family trip to London in July to “visit Auntie Vic and Uncle Mike,” which in British English translates to “Uncle Mike hooked Daddy up with a ticket to see the Oasis Live ‘25 Tour.” Harrison loved walking along the Thames, visiting pubs, and most of all spending time with Auntie and Uncle. We all had a blast and Victoria and Mike were the most gracious hosts — we can’t wait for our next visit.

Sally, as always, continues to live her best life as she entered double digits this year — she turned ten in May — and is just as spritely and energetic as a young pup while costing twice as much in vet bills. One of Harrison’s favorite pastimes is sharing his cereal snack with Sally and it's fair to say that the feeling is mutual.

Following up from his first album, Matt wrote, recorded, and released his second album which went in an entirely new direction. The Place Where We Get Bows is “the score to a movie that hasn’t been made yet” and allowed Matt to explore his passion for cinematic scoring. It is a truly gorgeous piece of art and an incredible addition to his already vast portfolio of music. Harrison and I are so proud of him and excited for what 2026 will have in store for Matt musically, especially with his budding musical apprentice at his side.

Outside of music, toward the start of the year, Matt stepped in as Director of Operations for The Weather Room at Top of the Rock and helped them increase their profits exponentially over the last 12 months. A gifted musician and a world class operations mastermind? Move along, ladies, this one is taken.

As for me, transitioning into the world of working motherhood continued to bring challenges into 2025; I struggled with juggling the stresses and expectations of work with my home life while also trying to get to know these new versions of Katie. Prior to becoming a mother, I could more or less identify two versions of Katie: work Katie and individual Katie, both pretty similar. Now, instead of two versions there are roughly [punches numbers into a calculator] eleventy-three versions of Katie, all competing for headspace with varying levels of confidence, patience, and self-inflicted (or society-inflicted) guilt.

Thankfully, things are better due in part to some candid conversations at work, at home, and with myself. At work, I partnered with my boss to develop an entirely new role that fits both the needs of the business as it grows along with my own needs, experiences, and interests, which we finalized at the end of 2025. It’s been a couple of months now since I’ve stepped into my role at Odyssey as Head of People and Business Operations and it’s already made a world of difference for my mental health and overall professional happiness.

At home, Matt and I agreed that I need to work on taking more time just for me. I ended up taking a pottery class over the spring and summer, which provided a much needed respite from the commotion of the outside world and helped quiet my inner voices. And look, bowls! I had to take a break from it (New York City clay appears to be especially expensive), but I’m looking forward to diving in again at some point, as well as finding other ways to fill my own cup in 2026.

The back third of 2025 for me was also met with multiple bouts of the flu and cold. While some of this is due to having a toddler in daycare and exposure to all those wonderful germs, after a series of tests and a CT scan in December, it turns out I had multiple blockages in my sinuses and a lot of inflammation that led to the repeat illnesses and would likely lead to more, for which the doctor recommended sinus surgery. I went through surgery just days before writing this belated update and am recovering nicely, albeit slowly. I’ll save the details on that for the 2026 write-up so you all have something to look forward to, but maybe buy some stock in NeilMed SinuFlo in the meantime because they’re about to see an increase in revenue on the Upper Westside.

So, as I do most years, I return to the question I tend to ask myself during this process: what did I take away from [last] year?

My unofficial mantra for the past year comes perhaps unsurprisingly from my son’s namesake: All Things Must Pass. My professional life coming into motherhood was rocky, but all things must pass: it got better with time, patience, and some work (plus a little humor because I am who I am). The world is more or less a dumpster fire, but all things must pass: we’ll continue to call our legislators, go to the polls, and fight for decency and human rights to the best of our capacity and abilities.

But that doesn't just pertain to the hard things, I feel that for the wonderful things, too. Harrison’s time as a toddler will be all but fleeting, and we want to soak up all of his deliciousness at this age as we can before he’s replaced with a new and equally wonderful little being. All things must pass.

Goddammit, he crapped in the tub again.