In my first journal entry a year ago, I waxed lyrical about my plans to face any coming challenges with Zen-like calm and hypothesized what those challenges might be. In reality, I think I expected life would plod along in a manner similar to the previous three years. I assumed my postdoc contract in Australia would be extended and I would continue to work part-time on cutting-edge climate-change science, while maintaining a suitable work–life balance and spending quality time with my three-year-old son, Kai.

But things quickly got complicated. After my husband Brett was offered a postdoc working on amphibian malformations in Colorado, life became something of a whirlwind. Over the past 11 months I have hot-footed it down the aisle for a hasty wedding (thanks to US visa rules), left Australia, left academia, moved first to California and then to Colorado.

The year has taken so many twists and turns it has been hard to do it justice in my monthly 250-word journal entry. Instead of writing about being a postdoc, I have ended up writing about my experiences of learning not to be a postdoc. I wondered whether that would resonate with readers.

But throughout the year, I received e-mails from postdocs facing similar fates. From following a partner while they complete a postdoc and moving overseas, to considering an alternative career as a freelance writer or a full-time parent, these are decisions many postdocs face. One would hope, though, that most will not have to face them all in the same year.

Our first months in the United States were spent in California, where Brett's field sites are based, and the summer proved to be particularly challenging. After waving goodbye to friends and familiarity in Australia, Kai and I arrived in the United States only to be greeted with a dubious housing arrangement. I had agreed to live in California only if we didn't have to share a house with PhD students and the house didn't turn into a lab. Both happened, as I was still in Australia and couldn't organize things. As my feminist ideals still smarted from the fact that I had to leave my hard-earned career and get married to support Brett, the last thing I needed was to share a house with over-enthusiastic post-graduate students and a garage full of deformed frogs.

As Brett embarked on his exciting new project and was out doing field-work, I was stuck at home or enduring seemingly endless play dates with other mums and toddlers. I did little to disguise my jealousy. Zen-like calm was in short supply.

But as summer progressed, I began to feel more at peace with my new role as stay-at-home mum and my relationship with Kai was transformed. While I baulk at using the old cliché 'like a phoenix from the ashes', it seems an apt description of my changing outlook. Still, I was relieved when the field season was over and we left California for the long road trip to our new home for the next two years in Boulder, Colorado.

Throughout the year I have also been writing freelance from home. We welcomed the second (albeit small) income, I've enjoyed communicating science and the environment to a wider audience. Although the world of a work-at-home mum can be a bumpy ride, freelancing has so far been compatible with full-time parenting. (Then again, I am writing this last journal entry at 4 a.m.) I also completed a photography course, which I hope will add a new dimension to my writing projects.

As we settle down to life in Boulder, I have a hard time accepting that these events took place in less than a year. Brett's postdoc is progressing well and we love Boulder. We recently enjoyed watching Kai experience sledging in the snow for the first time.

Although I have learnt never to say never, Kai is my priority and I don't see myself returning to academia anytime in the near future. And, finally, I think I'm ok with that.