This blog as never been consistent. I truly thought that I would become some amazing mom blogger who would make money from her endorsement deals. Then TikTok came along and vlogging and I’m just not built for that. But today, while I was sitting here wallowing in self-pity, I decided why not give it another go and see how far I make it this time.
a quick update…
Bryson will be turning 18 in a couple months, and with the newfound freedom that comes with a driver’s license and the exhilarating romance of high school relationships, we find ourselves seeing him much less than we would like to. It’s a bittersweet reality; we are excited for him as he embarks on this next chapter of his life, but we can’t help but miss our time together. Daylen turned 16 yesterday—while he didn’t quite get his driver’s license just yet, he did secure the all-important driver’s permit, which is a step in the right direction. Over the past year, he’s been quite a handful, testing every boundary we set and navigating the infamous teenage hormones that can turn even the sweetest kids into raging a**holes at times. It’s a rollercoaster ride, filled with moments of laughter and frustration, as we watch him grow into his own person while trying to remember the importance of patience and understanding during these turbulent teenage years.
Gabe is turning 10 next month, and his love of athletics consumes not only every free minute we have but has also put our finances in a headlock, stretching our budget in ways we never anticipated. On top of tackle football and wrestling, which he passionately dedicates himself to, he actively participates in both travel baseball and travel flag football—intense sports commitments that keep him engaged year-round. His enthusiasm for these activities is infectious, often inspiring us to cheer him on from the sidelines and celebrate his achievements. Meanwhile, Oliver, the baby of the family, is turning 8 this summer and is almost as tall as Gabe, which is surprising given their age difference. His ASD finally feels manageable, a significant milestone for our family. It has taken countless appointments, therapists, and various services from different areas to reach this point, but for the most part, he seems to be blossoming in a good place, finding joy in new hobbies and making friends along the way, which gives us all a sense of relief and hope for his future.
My relationship with Mike is better than it has ever been. He just celebrated his three-year anniversary of sobriety, which is a milestone that signifies not only his personal triumph over challenges but also the strengthening of our bond. In the last three years, he has become a better version of himself in so many ways; his dedication to his recovery journey has inspired not only him but everyone around him. He is a healthier, happier version of himself, which in turn has made him a better partner and a better father. I’ve seen him embrace life with a renewed sense of purpose, engaging wholeheartedly in parenting and our relationship, adding joy and warmth to our home. I consider myself truly blessed that I have been able to be witness to his accomplishments, as each step forward has enriched both our lives immensely. I never would have thought in 2020/2021 that we would be in the place we are right now, navigating life with such positivity and hope. But it is a definite blessing, one that fills my heart with gratitude every single day as we continue to grow together, facing life’s challenges side by side.
As for me, I missed a step coming down from my bedroom last spring and completely changed my entire life in an instant. It was six steps and one solid hit to the back of my head that sent me spiraling into a world of uncertainty and challenges. I was out of work for six long months, a period that felt like an eternity as I grappled with the implications of my injury. And after enduring physical therapy, speech therapy, occupational therapy, acupuncture, and neurological optometry—which included six different pairs of glasses, then contacts, and visual rehabilitation—I find myself still not better. I have been given work restrictions for my eyes that make it impossible for me to return to the job I fell in love with: dispatching. The thrill of answering 911 calls, dispatching officers and being the lifeline for others is something I miss dearly. I’ve been blessed enough that I can still work at our center in a different capacity, yet it often leaves me yearning for the profound sense of purpose I once felt while dispatching. I long to feel like I am actively making a difference in the lives of those around me. Despite the hurdles, I still work two jobs, tirelessly juggling responsibilities to support my family. In addition, I dedicate my time to volunteering for SOS, where my heart is fully invested in helping those in need. I am still a partner and a parent, consumed 24 hours a day with a never-ending list of other people’s needs that have to be met, often leaving me physically and emotionally drained yet resolute in my commitment to be there for my loved ones.
which leads me to why I came here…
The real reason I came back to this blog wasn’t to find a sense of self or an outlet for my creativity. It was because I was feeling sorry for myself. Right before my 40th birthday, Mike and I traveled to Oregon for his cousin’s wedding, and little did I know how transformative this trip would be. If you’ve never been to Oregon, go. You will not regret it; the charm of this state is simply unparalleled. In my mind, Oregon was a flatland where my pioneering family contracted dysentery and died from a broken leg, but this outdated narrative was flawed. My memory did not serve me well, because the Oregon Trail did not do this majestic state justice; it was almost as if I had been blind to its splendor. The mountains were so breathtaking that I honestly started looking to see if a move would be feasible. Each glimpse of the towering peaks stirred something deep within me, awakening lost dreams and ambitions. Our trip was very short-lived – we flew in on Friday and returned home on Sunday – yet we managed to make it to Mount Hood and see its beauty in person, where I felt an exhilarating rush of connection to the natural world. The fresh air and stunning landscapes prompted conversations about life, purpose, and what we truly wanted for our futures. And on the flight home, with the clouds beneath us and the weight of my earlier thoughts beginning to blend into the sky, I made a resolution that I would climb a mountain before my next birthday, embracing the adventurous spirit I had long neglected.
Well, it’s now May and only 5 months until my next birthday. We had planned to go to Colorado to climb Pike’s Peak with Mike’s cousin and his wife, an adventure we had been looking forward to for quite some time. The stunning vistas and the thrill of reaching the summit were something we had envisioned sharing together. The only problem is that our summer schedule is completely booked through August with tournaments and games, leaving us with little to no free time. Every weekend except for one – and that weekend is the only weekend that they aren’t available – is filled with commitments, and it’s frustrating to think of what could have been. My heart broke a little bit when I realized this, as I had envisioned us standing on top of that mountain, taking in the breathtaking views and creating memories that would last a lifetime. I know that I could skip a tournament – but the one game I was going to have to miss for Daylen’s first year of tackle football this past fall was the game when he suffered a season-ending collarbone break, and it was devastating to see him go through that pain. So now I don’t want to ever miss something again, because mom guilt is real and it is strong; it weighs heavily on my heart, reminding me of the importance of being there for my children during significant moments in their lives, both joyous and challenging.
I know that I still have time to do things for me. I have ten years left of toting these kids around and making sure that they have what they need, ensuring they grow up with all the love and support they deserve. And those years are going to go by fast… because Bryson and Daylen are still just 6 and 8 in my mind, but really only seconds away from adulthood and moving away to carve their own paths in the world. I’m savoring every moment with them, capturing the laughter, the chaos, and the little victories that make our days special. I’m keeping my fingers crossed we can make this dream of climbing a mountain a reality this year still; the thought of standing on a summit surrounded by breathtaking views is something I yearn for. But at the end of the day, if I don’t climb a mountain this year, I’ll still be happy, as I know I’ve prioritized what truly matters. Sometimes being a good parent means making sacrifices; it’s about striking a balance between nurturing their dreams and pursuing my own. I’ll summit a mountaintop at some point because I made myself that promise, and while it might not happen in the timeframe I wished for, I know the journey will be worth it, both for me and for my children, who will witness the importance of following one’s passions.
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