blog

I’ve been thinking a lot about pace lately. Not productivity. Not output. Pace . This morning, I caught myself in the usual rush. Coats. Boots. Bus time. Cold air. Go, go, go . Then Bonnie asked if we could walk. I didn’t want to. It was cold . I was already thinking about everything waiting for me once the door closed behind us. But we walked . Down the hill, she pointed out animal tracks in the snow. We stopped . We guessed what made them. She traced shapes with her boo

Let’s be honest for a minute. Not every day comes with clarity or motivation. Some days you just don’t feel like yourself, and lately, I’ve been sitting in one of those stretches. The kind where the morning rush starts before your feet even hit the floor. And by the time night rolls around, you’re exhausted in a way sleep doesn’t quite fix. I’m still showing up . Still doing what needs done. But I can feel it . My fire for initiation and execution is there, it’s just s

This morning started with a battle . My youngest didn’t want to go to school. She’s been fighting whatever bug is going around and lost her voice. What’s left of it is low and raspy. I think it’s kind of adorable. She does not. She was convinced she’d get made fun of. Tears. Resistance . Every excuse in the book. And at some point, trying to help her through it, I said something that stopped me in my tracks. “Sometimes you have to learn to do uncomfortable things.” She went.

Some of the people who change your life never think they did . They brush it off. Say their work is ordinary. Say they are just doing their job. But over time, it becomes clear that these people shape us . Quietly. Repeatedly. In ways they may never notice. Impact does not always announce itself. It does not come with recognition or applause. Most of the time, it shows up through proximity. Through shared seasons. Through people who walk beside you for a while and leave so

This morning didn’t come in loud or flashy. No big win. No big announcement. Just gray skies, quiet roads, and a cup of coffee that somehow tasted better because I noticed it . Yesterday’s post hit a nerve . In a good way. It reminded me how many of us are walking around trying to be smaller than we are. Softer. Quieter. Easier to digest. And today felt like the natural follow-up. Not about shrinking. About choosing to see what’s still good , even when the day doesn’t hand i

I’ve been thinking a lot about how often we make ourselves small . Not loudly. Not intentionally. Just quietly. In the pauses. In the apologies. In the way we rush ourselves so no one else has to wait. In the way we soften our needs, lower our voices, and fold our edges so we don’t take up too much space. This morning made it clear for me. I walked into the breakroom to get hot water for my tea. Yes, still on that kick . I keep telling myself it’s slowly becoming a habit.

Last night was one of those nights that reminds me why I teach . Two lessons. Two riders. Two horses. Completely different personalities, goals, and struggles. And somehow, the same lesson showed up in both. We always start big. Big picture. Big goal. Big ask. And then we slowly whittle it down to what feels familiar, what feels safe, and what feels uncomfortable enough to grow. The first lesson kicked off with a full NLBRA trail course . Gate. Back through barrels. Mailbox.

I’ve been sitting in the same Teams call since 8:30 this morning. It’s 11:20 now . I’ve sprinted to the bathroom twice, thanks to this new water habit I’m forcing myself into. Day eight. Apparently it takes about three weeks to make it stick . Right now it just feels like a test of bladder strength and patience. The call lost me when it drifted into accounting. Banking. Numbers. The part of development conversations I want nothing to do with. I’m present enough to nod, but

You know those mornings where nothing big happens, but everything feels a little more settled? That was today for me. Not loud. Not exciting. Just aligned . I noticed it on the drive to work, when my thoughts weren’t tripping over each other for once. No rush. No spiral. Just this quiet sense of, okay, I’m here. This is fine. It’s gloomy out. Full gray sky, heavy air, classic Wednesday energy. Yesterday felt off , and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. Today feels diffe

It’s January 5, 2026. One of the worst Mondays of the year. Everyone is back at work. Most kids are back at school after a long winter break. The Christmas tree is down. The house got a jumpstart on cleaning yesterday, and not the fun kind. Ceiling fans. Baseboards. The kind of cleaning that makes you feel accomplished but sore. Heartland played in the background all day. The girls are obsessed, and with fourteen plus seasons, it’s easy to get sucked in. It became backgrou

Friday. January second. The year is still new enough to feel awkward saying out loud. New Year’s Eve found us doing what we always do. A hotel, close to home, because winter is long and kids need water and noise and somewhere that is not the house . We kept it simple. LongHorn Steakhouse for dinner. Drury Inn for the night. Familiar. Easy. The kind of tradition you do not question because it holds. The girls made it to the ball drop . Barely. Pajamas. Messy hair. Music b

It is one of those mornings where the house feels like it is holding its breath . Twins still asleep. Kelly up, wandering, half awake and half hungry. Coffee is still hot, which feels like a small win. I am on cup three and it is doing the bare minimum, but we will take it. I have a six hour work call in about an hour. Six hours. From my kitchen. With three kids home. During negative wind chills. If you need a visual, imagine controlled chaos with a side of muted panic an

Day two of holiday break. I am working from home. Both twins are home. Nothing is quiet. Coffee has been reheated more times than I care to admit. What is in full demand today? Top Gun: Maverick . On repeat. One of my six year olds is completely obsessed . And honestly, I do not blame her. She loves the original Top Gun too. Val Kilmer as Ice Man is everything to her. He is plastered across her favorite t-shirt like a personality trait. Lady Gaga is blasting through the ho

It is cold. Not cute winter cold. Not Hallmark snow globe cold. Negative temps, half a foot of snow on the ground, and the idea of leaving the house sends actual chills straight through my spine. Today was an e-learning day for school, and my boss told me to stay home and work from the house. Don’t have to tell me twice. The coffee stayed hot. The slippers stayed on. Productivity happened without frostbite. Amazon, on the other hand, is putting in overtime. The driver will

Thanksgiving is done. We survived the first real snowfall and the first round of sledding. We ate with my side of the family this year, which felt strange after spending so many holidays with his side, but it was a good kind of different. I still haven’t been to the barn since the last lesson. I’m over here hoping blankets are on, dogs are bedded down, and the waters aren’t frozen solid. Trusting Dan and trying not to think too hard about it. Finances are tight, so Christm

We have been in motion for two weekends straight. Rodeo after rodeo. Long drives. Late nights. Early alarms. Kids half asleep in the truck. Horses waiting before sunrise. My body has not caught up yet and my brain is still trying. Then the new job. Good people. Good opportunity. But it takes everything out of me . I am trying to take in the policies, the rules, the systems, the nonstop details. Every day feels like I am sponging in information faster than I can process it. On

Finishing up my second Friday at the new job, and my brain is officially mush . I’ve learned more about workers’ comp insurance in two weeks than I ever imagined knowing in a lifetime. My highlighter is dry, my coffee is gone, and my brain cells are waving white flags. This weekend is MYRA, and— shockingly —I haven’t packed yet. I am  picking up lunch supplies for Saturday thanks to Aldi pickup (bless whoever invented that). It’ll be a late night though, because I still need

It’s been a minute. Honestly, I don’t even know where to start. Life’s been moving fast, and I’ve been trying to keep up. Last Friday was my last day at CI MED and the University of Illinois. I already miss everyone there more than I thought I would . It’s only Thursday, but it feels like that chapter closed weeks ago. This week, I jumped straight into my new job at CCMSI in Danville. Whole new world. Whole new industry. The people have been great—super supportive, patient

You ever hit that weird in-between season where your brain’s spinning but your body’s frozen? That’s me right now. Told everyone at CI MED I’m leaving. The new job’s around the corner. I should be tying up loose ends and finishing projects… but instead I’m staring at my to-do list like it’s written in another language. ADHD calls it “ freeze mode .” I call it Tuesday. I’m three cups of coffee deep, eating the last of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch straight from the box, and preten

It’s Friday. Again. The kids are out of school for yet another teacher’s institute, which around here translates to “barn work disguised...