Summer Home Life

It's a warm, dry mid July in Washington state, and I have had a lot of time at home recently. It wasn't necessarily planned, and no one is sick or injured. It's just the way life has rolled out this week. It happens in the Personal Training world from time to time. Summer time is usually a bit slow due to various events that are completely outside of my control. This turns out to be a great thing for our family because camps weren't really in the cards this summer and it's given me a good insight on life - and perhaps a much needed reset.

 We instead planned on free activities and playdates to float us through summer time. So far, that's included things like - 

Go Storm! 

taking advantage of a free ticket offer through Kitsap Regional Library to see a Women's Professional Basketball game (Go Storm!). It was a really exciting night, that ran a little late, but it worked out - since we didn't have to get up early the next day.

Hello Raya! 

 

We adopted a new family member from our local Humane Society, making good on a promise we made to The Impossible Girl. We've learned that she is pretty allergic to cats, but we're working with our allergist to help her adapt to the new little fuzz ball. Stay tuned to see how the dog and the cat adapt. She's been keeping us on our toes for sure. 

Go Reign! 

There has been time seeing an exciting Women's Soccer match (Go Reign!) thanks to a generous donor who donated tickets to Vet Tix - Tickets For Troops - Veteran Tickets Foundation. 

  While the Impossible Girl doesn't consider herself especially sporty, going to different types of events and environments is so helpful in working on skills, and it has inspired some dribbling at home as well. There are discussions of joining a team soon.

I coached my weightlifting crew through Pride Deadlift Party Seattle 2026 . It's been a summer tradition for the last 6-7 years now. 

Pride Deadlift Party 2026, 275lbs.

Other events of the summer include a drastic hair cut (for the Impossible Girl - I'm long overdue and My Sailor is, well, Military), and so many local hikes. 

In August, we're looking forward to a month of birthdays, anniversaries, and fun. 

But overall, the slower pace of life has reminded me just how amazing this place we call home is. 

Most days in the summer, I can catch the glimpse of an eagle soaring over the forest, a ship sailing by, and several sea planes landing and taking off from the body of water nearby. The sense of quiet and peace when the air heats up here leaves space for all sorts of creative thought to take flight.

Now, it's nearly midnight as I write this. As a professional, I preach the value of good sleep. Honestly, most of the time, I'm pretty good at living that too. I love a good trip to dreamland, however, lately I also love this time of night. I always have. It's a moment where no one needs anything from me and my body gets to relax. 

Now, a friend's mother recently passed away and she's wrestling with the silence that I find so recharging. It has been a reminder that all any of us can do is live in the moment, be there for each other, and continue on the journey to discover our authentic selves - even in our 40's.  

For me, it's the quiet and the space that gives me the opportunity to be unabashedly myself. 

And You Did It With Your Stutter - Washington State Science Fair 2026

Art The Impossible Girl made while awaiting judges at the Science Fair.
Her After School art teacher talked about Impressionist art - and she wanted to try it.
Trust me. It's perfect.

Of all the things I imagined as a parent, being a science fair mom was never one of them. But then again, all of the best turns in my life have been off the narrow road map I designed for myself. The Impossible Girl isn't into playing sports, or performing on stage. But she is curious, and artistic. She was one of 2 kids in her grade who participated in the State Science Fair. 

We bought a new dress for added confidence, tweaked the project after some feedback from her school science fair, and took it on the road. 

Now, for the parents, the science fair is a whole lot of sitting around. This year, 600 kiddos were judged on her day (1100 students over 2 days). I helped her set up her project and made sure she was as prepared as she could be. As the gym started to fill with the sound of several hundred students, the headband was swapped for noise cancelling headphones adorned with Mouse Ears that coordinated with her dress. We went to orientation and the judges kicked us parents out of the gym. For the next several hours, it would be the kids giving their presentations to judges. 

Now, for someone with Sensory Processing Disorder, this situation should be an absolute nightmare. Constant loud noise. Unpredictable circumstances. Having to talk to strangers upon first meeting. Feeling judged, weighed, and measured. 

I'd be lying if I said it was easy. The kids have worked for months on their projects. And the environment of the State Fair level is a lot. Honestly, it's challenging even for the Neurotypical crowd. 

But this is the thing she picked. 

And I love it. 

She picked something hard for her. 

She picked it because she had the right combination of friction, adversity, and support to accomplish it. I credit her school with that, and the event with an understanding staff interested in growing curious, problem solving humans. 

After the first three hours, they break for lunch. The kids eat, laugh, catch up with their friends, and walk around checking out the sponsored displays around the cafeteria. 

One of the sponsors had telescopes you could see the sun through.

After being shut inside the gym all day, fresh air was a must.

After a lunch break, the kids go back into the gym to do more presenting and waiting as special award judges go around. The Impossible Girl brought a coloring book and colored pencils to entertain herself between judges. 

She's the only one in headphones. 

She's the only one openly using her tools to battle through the situation. 

She isn't asking for special treatment. She's making it work for her. Her project notes a couple unique accommodations that made completing it doable for her, but they are minimal things like Speak to Text, and Scribe. 

There was a break for dinner and then we were back, waiting to see if we won anything at the awards ceremony. 

The auditorium was a buzz with anticipation. The announcer told an engaging tale about how long the event has been running, and explained that they would only be giving out 1st place and Special Awards during this ceremony. The rest would be receiving an email in the coming days and ribbons in the mail. Special awards usually come with monetary prizes or trips attached to them. 

We discussed possible outcomes, and made plans to hope for the best and cheer for our friends. If we didn't get a prize tonight, we'd wait for an email in the coming week. 

The announcer called first grade first places in each category to come to the stage and accept their awards. Then second place first places in each category were called to the stage by name to accept their awards. And right about when they were getting to third graders, I noticed The Impossible Girl's shoulders slumped forward a little and I heard her say something to herself as she fidgeted in her seat. I couldn't quite make it out, so I asked her to repeat it and bent close.

There are few moments in my life where my heart stopped and I launch into instant rage. I have a very slow fuse. Anger is a powerful emotion and my nervous system doesn't like to waste its power on puny situations. 

She said, "If I don't win anything, it's probably because of my stutter." 

I repeated it back to her to be sure I heard her correctly before my blood pressure rose. I heard it. 

You see, the first judge cut her off twice when she was trying to respond to a question. Her first judge at her school science fair had said she was visibly uneasy during their interaction as well. Both had cut her off when she was stuck in a loop, rather than waiting it out. 

And, despite having so many positive judges, the impatience of a few had left their mark. 

My voice came out with a sharp quiet edge.  "No. No. It won't be because of that. It's just the way you talk. It's not you. It's them. It's that one judge. He doesn't know how to listen and was impatient. It's not you."  I realized how sharp my voice was and quickly added. "I am not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm mad at them. Because they don't get it." I wished my voice could overpower those thoughts -but I know they will always be there somewhere. I refuse to feed those thoughts. 

Luckily, she won 1st place and stood on stage, shell shocked, a few moments later. 

This isn't the first time others have defined her by the way she speaks when she's nervous. And if I'm honest, it won't be the last in her lifetime either.

 It makes me all the more grateful for her amazing friends who see her for all of it and embrace all of her anyway. 

We cheer for everyone. Having humans cheer for her, from her school, her teachers, her therapist team, has been vital to her ability to move through the world confidently. Hearing the teachers scream for her when they called her name will hopefully be louder than those thoughts.

And those who choose to define her abilities by her voice? I still believe they don't get it. They aren't our people.

 They have no idea of the years of time and work it took for her to CHOOSE to stand in that room and explain her project to strangers. Work many her age don't have to do. They don't know where she started and have no idea how far she's come. They aren't people who need the courage to stand in a room of their peers and pop headphones one because the din and echo of their voices will make your brain scream. They've never needed that brand of courage. 

I do believe that it can be taught though. (It's why I ask her if I can share her story.)

Stuttering Teaches the World to Listen. 

She won with her stutter - and she did it wearing headphones and a smile.

Because You Lived ; A Birthday Blog

My Sailor has recently gotten a pronounced grey streak down the middle of his curly dark blond hair.

And I adore it.

He hates it. 

He asked why Ilike it so much and I emphatically replied, "Because we get to grow old together! We're actually everyday living out that promise we made. We get to be here long enough to experience growing old together. Some people never get that." 

A few of my own silvers have grown in now too, and I find myself grinning from ear to ear when I catch a flashing glitter of grey in the mirror. Not that I'm excited to see my body change in the ways that natural humans do as they age, but maybe- just maybe- I am? 

If you've been a blog reader for any extended period of time (ye brave. ye few), you've read the confessions of my childhood. I've previously admitted to periods of deep bone tiredness in my youth, of feeling so much pain for so long that I'd considered leaving the planet on my own terms. I'm not going to beat around the bush. By middle school I had thought out suicide at least 3 different ways. I was heavily bullied for the majority of my youth (thank GOD cyber bullies weren't a thing back then). I could at least escape it at home, and in the end, I decided that I loved my parents a lot. I couldn't bear the weight of sadness my passing would cause them. 

So I hung on. I didn't act on it and endured the air pressing down on me with every cruel insult my peers hurled my way. 

Time passed. Things changed. And the weight of that pain eased by high school.

Then I fell in love and got married. 4 years and a lifetime later, I got divorced. Something I never dreamed a good Christian girl would end up doing. Even if it was for the best in the end, it shattered my world in the moment.

If it wasn't for my family and my dog, I don't know how I would have gotten out of bed. I never dreamed that would happen to me, but it was necessary. 

What got me out of bed? My dog needed me.  If I didn't get up and feed him every day, he would have died in his crate and no one would ever find me. My dog deserved better than that. So, I got up every day and fed and walked him. Then I was able to go to work and punch a time clock and make a living.

And eventually, the pain passed.

Since then, I've head heart breaks, pandemics, deaths in the family, deployments, and all sorts of life altering, often painful events. 

I also fell in love, got married, built a business, transplanted to an entirely different state, and had an amazing kiddo. 

 I never considered using life's escape hatch since.  

I consider my birthday my personal New Years.

It just passed and I turned 46 years old, complete with grey hairs, a few extra pounds, and probably dipping my toe into perimenopause.

And I have one thing to say to that exhausted, devastated soul from my past - 

Thank you. 

Because you held on, I get to have grey hairs and wrinkles. 

Because you made it through those dark days, I got to bring this little light from the shadows.

Because of you, I am strong enough to carry what life throws at me - and wise enough to ask for help along the way. 

Because of you, I've been able to rescue and love 5 dogs through their lives.

Because of you, I've started a business where I get the honor of connecting with humans, supporting them, building humans of all walks of life. 

You held on even when all you could feel were the cold and constant cuts of isolation and depression. When the praise never outweighed the criticism and the pet names weren't as loud as the school yard labels. 

You learned you were 'different' early on, and that felt scary. You spent most of life watching life and friendships from a distance. You stayed when each heartbreak seemed to prove you were unworthy of love.

But because you stayed through all of that, I can embrace and hold space for the differences in others. 

That uphill battle every day to get out bed has led to a space you've filled with peace. 

Thank you for grabbing those little life preservers that floated by. I know sometimes you had to seek them out, but you did it. They felt so simple and stupid at the time, but they were all reasons to hold on, and you took them. You didn't have to. You could have let go and allowed the darkness to swallow us at any point - and no one would have blamed you for it. 

But you took those little moments and little responsibilities to keep you afloat. You wanted to give up, but you didn't. You did what you had to do - even when it seemed utterly futile.

You chose hope. You chose bravery. You learned the true definition of courage - perseverance through the presence of fear and pain. You acted on faith that someday, as long as you were able to stay on this side of dirt, things just might change for the better. And they did.

The bullies grew our thick skin. Our armor is tough. 

The darkness taught us to look for even the smallest pinhole of light and push towards it. 

The haters taught us what NOT to do to others. We are worthy of love and respect.

The years wandering in the fog taught us patience. 

Every grey hair proves I'm still here.

 

I get to get old - because of the choices you made.

So, thank you kid, for choosing to stick around. 

 We Made It. 

2025 may be kind of Magnificent.

This year has started off with dog walks, broken toes, my birthday (of course), and a good bit of snow. 

It's also included visits to specialists, more tests, and more appointments.

My average 5 days a week looks like this:

Wake up: 6:00am

Wake kiddo up at 6:30am.

Homework, breakfast, morning routine: 6:30-7:50am.

School drop off, commute to forest preschool campus: 8am-8:45am

Work until 1:30-1:45pm

Commute and change: 2:00pm-2:15pm

Clients at the YMCA: 2:30pm-3:15pm

Commute and pick up from school: 3:15-3:30 pm

Commute and home time before clients: 3:30pm-4:30pm

Clients: 4:30-5:15, 5:15-6:00pm

Dinner and 1 hr of family TV time: 6pm-7:30pm

Bedtime routine: 7:30-8:30pm

and usually I'm utterly exhasuted, but shower and my bed time around 10:30pm.

This is OBVIOUSLY a lot and not sustainable long term. 

I've been incredibly lucky to have My Sailor on shore duty to pitch in with picking up the Impossible Girl from time to time and making dinners most nights - when he isn't on duty (a 24+hr shift). Despite having to be at work sometimes at 2-3am, he's doing everything he can to contribute and it's kind of amazing. 

We haven't had a date night since, I don't know, December something, but I've been able to connect with some friends and bring the Impossible Girl along for some pretty cool things.

Blodel Reserve

Hanging out in a Tree at the Magnolia Forest Preschool Polar Plunge

Checking out an epic women's hockey game...

And sleeping through the overtime and the shoot outs....

We're heading into a new season of uncertainty. I'm stepping back into a world where I am the 'anchor being' for our family group. My Sailor will go back to deployable status at the drop of a hat, and the help I've had with dinners, housework, etc while I work 2 jobs, 6 days a week (and he works full time military crazy hours). We don't have a nanny. We don't have a reliable babysitter. We don't have local family. Effectively, we are like so many other families out there who are a bit of an island.

We don't have help, and often when we do reach out, it's (completely understandably) unavailable. 

But we do have each other - and I have to say - that's an amazing gift. 

Perhaps I'm a bit extra nostalgic because in about 5 days, My Sailor and I will have been legally married for 14 years. 

And honestly, it's all been pretty good. Sure, we have our rough patches, but who doesn't? He's seen me through some pretty wild circumstances, and still continues to support me, and vice versa. 

I never really understood what people ment when they said, "The Family serves too." I assumed they meant that military moves often cause people to uproot their homes from one place to another (but where ever we are together is 'home' - it's not necessarily a specific address with walls). 

Or maybe they meant that the kids had to change schools, or the long physical separations (which are much harder with kids en tow). 

But I think I get it. 

We've both made sacrifices for this life to work.

He asked me to give up theater for a while. Theater takes up a LOT of free time. I miss it terribly, but I still support and go when I can. If I wasn't investing the time in us as a family, he's right - I'm not sure we would have worked out. 

And he's opted to stay in the military longer than he originally planned to keep The Impossible Girl covered. It wasn't his 'Plan A' for life either - but as soon as we knew there may be some medical complications, he didn't hesitate to do what he could to keep us afloat. 

We're also stepping into a world of Neurology appointments and adding a new therapy to the mix. 

This Spring, I'm also doing some self care while My Sailor will be home. He's using his leave to take care of me so I can finally breathe through my nose again - which is going to involve a month of lower income. I'm leaving one of my jobs earlier than planned to get my face fixed and support our family as we enter the '24/hrs notice of comings and goings' phase of life again. 

It's all exhausting, but there is no one I'd rather face the world with than these 2. 

An Ode to the Magic Makers

 

The Impossible Girl playing Delivery Elf

Ode to the Makers of Magic

To the Bakers of Cookies

And Hangers of Lights

To the Bells the will Carol

And Keep Spirits Bright

To the Great Stocking Fillers

And Tradition Maintainers

To the Cooks and the Drivers

And Spiritual Sustainers

To those who buy gifts

But forget their own

Because Filling Your Stocking

Would be ego overblown

But when Eyes of Loved ones

Light up with Care

And their joy and excitement

Leaks into the air

The empty stockings don't matter

Because a Gift's just a Thing

To be Lost, Aged, or Broken

As Time takes a Swing

But when All has been Gifted

And all been received,

The Makers of Magic

Find Peaceful Reprieve.    

Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the year. I get to wax nostalgic while I put one more in the books. And as a mother and military spouse, I'm chiefly in charge of working around insane schedules, I haven't had the time or energy to write about a lot of them since moving to Washington and becoming a parent. But Christmas Eve, when all the prep is done and the Christmas fun has been had, I find a deep sense of peace.  As I reflect on what I did well and what I need to work on for next year, I also look back on other Decembers. 

The One about the Paper Tree - A little backstory about my first Christmas in Washington. It's much like now, only I have made a few friends since. I'd moved to Washington from my hometown in spring, and this was my first year so far away from my family. They didn't come to visit and I couldn't go down there - and, of course, My Sailor and I started off our first year married missing every major holiday from October - January. So I got creative and found some joy. It's quite a tale!

The One That Almost Wasn't - The Impossible Girl was 2, and we were really struggling. I mean, during her first 2 years of life, we'd had foreclosure notices on the house, had the electricity and water turned off at different moments, and struggled to feed ourselves - however we still 'made too much' to qualify for aid. Lucky, our situation didn't stay that way, but a couple years were REALLY rough. This one was definitely a year where we learned about grace in a while new way.

The One in Ensenada - The December before Covid, the stars aligned, and we were able to book a Disney Cruise over the holiday leave period (we don't get that leave this year).  What I mean is, his Leave Dates aligned with a Cruise that was on a deep Military Discount, and he'd gotten a bonus that would cover it and a little more. We were a little concerned about taking a cruise for Christmas, but Disney somehow managed to make the whole thing so effortless that we all can't wait to do it again. So 3 years later, we got lucky and did it again (to a different destination).  Unfortunately, we likely won't be able to take this path again until 2027 or later, but man, was it ever fantastic!

We don't have set traditions in this house - which isn't something I expected. I've always found solace in traditions. 

But maybe, just maybe, a healthy sense of wanderlust IS a holiday tradition?

Or maybe I could just use a vacation.... 

Being a Super Model AKA The One that Comes with a Sound Track

***Click on the links you find throughout this blog for a bit of a background track - and consider buying the singles and supporting the artists. I make NO money off of this blog (as always). It's a labor of love and I'll always share things that impact my life.***

I have always hated failing and been afraid of regretting a decision. Most decisions I've made have been carefully overthought, weighed out, and measured by then "Will I regret this in a year?"  As I've gotten older and am now raising The Impossible Girl, I deeply examine the ramifications of those overthinking decisions. Chronically Cautious has made me err much more to the side of 'safe'. 

And here I am, trying to encourage The Impossible Girl to try different things - to be a 'beginner' and make mistakes. I realize I've done a terrible job of modeling that in my life. How can I possibly expect her to step out of her comfort zone if I'm so sunk deep in mine lately? How can I expect her to reach out and make connections beyond her school yard, if I'm not willing to extend myself and show her how it's done? 

We've pretty much had the same tiny circle for most of her life. 

Luckily, I have a bit of a restless spirit and a bit of wanderlust, so I plan trips and find small events to expose us both too. Since this may be our last holiday season together for a couple years, I'm doing everything I can to plan fun things to do locally (we can not travel this year to my family, and my family isn't coming to see us either, so we are working on our own holiday schedule.)  Last week, I took my kiddo (who struggles with crowds and loud noises) back to the 5th Avenue Theater for a stunning rendition of Mary Poppins. 

The closest I could get her to taking a picture with the Christmas tree at intermission.

The 5th Avenue theater offers tactile sensory experiences for folks to feel everything from wigs, to costumes and tap shoes.

We spent the night in a hotel downtown (another experience she loves) and the next day walked around the area. It was REALLY stormy, but we found a Gameworks arcade and played a bunch of new games. (Including one we loved that was COMPLETELY in Japanese.)

The hotel was doing a holiday party event - which included crafting ornaments, cards, and wreathes, while enjoying smores, snacks, and drinks. It was different, quiet, and lovely.

Yes - we do 'different' things, but they are generally all within a very 'safe' wheelhouse. We aren't really 'new' to theater (the shows just differ). We're also not new to arcade games (though we do get lots of practice losing). 

But what have I truly been a beginner at within the last decade? Not much... honestly, not anything. 

Since the art school that had an after school program at her school cancelled it, The Impossible Girl hasn't taken an interest in anything else. I really hate for her life to consist of the tiny world at her tiny school and Speech and Occupational Therapy. She needs other people in her life beyond the classroom. But how can she build those connections when she doesn't want to do anything new because "I'm not good at that." 

I mean, we are in the stage of grades and passing and failing. We have lots of discussions that mistakes happen - and we learn more from our mistakes than our successes, but do we actually live that? Do I, actually live that. 

Do I actually LIVE that? 

Or do I keep myself in a space where I'm not likely to fail because innately feel like mistakes/failures are a negative thing, rather than just a part of life?

Today, we took The Impossible Girl ice skating. We haven't been ice skating since last January, but she liked it then, despite being a true beginner at it. 

Now, for context for my newer readers - I'm from Southern California.

 Ice skating wasn't a common past time in an area of the world where Christmas trees and palm trees are interchangeable.

  When I was younger, I saw my mother have an accident on the ice, cutting open her face on the ice while ice skating. It scared me away from skating for a decade or more. Once I overcame that, I still didn't make it a regular part of my life. 

But now I'm knocking on the door of 45 years old, and it's time I allowed myself to be a beginner. 

To try something new and mess up!  Sure, the cost may feel higher now that I'm older. My body doesn't respond the same way to some mistakes (I'm currently icing my ankle and back in my walking boot...), but ya know what?

 I'd rather wear out than rust out. 

So we went ice skating today, in an effort to get our family MOVING more and sitting in front of screens less. And she LOVED it just as much as the previous time. It is noticeably difficult for her. Her OT wants her to work on leg strength and balance has always been a challenge - but she proves every day that she can do hard things. 

There is one way to build confidence in humans. Present them with a task they can't do - until they discover they can  do it, and repeat the process. It's the same for children and adults. 

This week, we also did a Parent's Night Out at Code Ninjas! We knew NO ONE there. They were very welcoming and, though she didn't make any friends, she had a good time. She did something completely new in a place that was 100% mistake friendly. We'll be exploring her interest in coding further as well.

Yes, there is truly value to trying something and knowing when to quit. There is absolutely no point in beating against a brick wall. But some brick walls were meant to be scaled. 

How do I plan to continue building on this pattern of building strength through discomfort myself? 

Currently, I'm looking into archery lessons on the weekends, doing a stair climb at Seattle Center, and embracing the uncertainty or being a 'noob' at something. 

What else can I be new at in 2025?  After all, if I can model that failure isn't fatal and growth doesn't come from comfort zones, she might just decide to take a risk and change the world someday. 

She's already changing it - just by being the mighty force she is every day. 

The Busy Season

We finally have some of our Christmas decorations up! Since we aren't traveling for the holidays this year, we decided to expand our holiday decorations and events this year. Since Thanksgiving, the Impossible Girl and I have done a local craft fair and seen the Nutcracker together. We also have tickets to Mary Poppins at the stunning 5th Avenue Theater.  

While she has no interest in taking dance classes herself, she does have interest in her friends. She wanted to be sure she was there to support her friends dancing on stage. (And it got us out of the house while My Sailor wrote a paper for school.)

As a family, we're trying to build more and more memories together to keep us afloat should My Sailor not be around for the holidays next year. So far, it's included trying out Seattle's Musuem of Illusions. 

We play at home Saturdays and Sundays, because, if I'm honest, the weeks are a blur - and it's not something I feel good about. I rest assured that it's just a season in life right now - but I also have the glaring reminder that we only get this once. 

One childhood with this marvelous kiddo.

As the next deployment season looms, I find the joy now as I gear up to take on more of the load of life myself. I wonder how my schedule will need to adjust to accommodate whatever changes to our life that it may bring. 

Typically, Monday through Friday, The Impossible Girl has school and homework. Most days start at 6am for me, having me on the road around 745am to drop the kiddo off at school and head to work in the woods. There, I work until at least 1:30 and head back into town to launch into Personal Training world. I get about 15 minutes to change and then I have at least 1 client before I go pick up The Impossible Girl from school. Sometimes My Sailor can help with that. Sometimes he can't. Then I usually have 2 more clients before dinner. Then it's hang out for 2 hours, bath and bed. We get up and do it all over again, but tack on as much homework as we can get done in the morning in the scramble to get to work as close to on time as I can.  Saturday mornings I get up early to spend some time watching cartoons and sipping hot beverages with The Impossible Girl before I go to work for another 4-6 hours. 

  Sunday we've reserved for Family Day. We aim to spend it together, though there is no guarantee that My Sailor will get it off of work. 

  The schedule is undecidedly wild currently. My Sailor basically works 6-7 days a week, including 24+ hour shifts, and I work 2 jobs 6 days a week. We do it all without the help of childcare, after school activities (aside from Occupational and Speech therapies located in a city 90 minutes away round trip). 

It's really helpful to have some special days on the calendar this month. As a family, we are attending an event at the Hyatt for the holidays, and after Christmas we have tickets to Enchant - a light display at Lumen Feild. We are working on a time to hit up ZooLights at Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium as well. Not sure when yet... 

  The family time making memories is worth it to not travel this year. Sure, I haven't seen my family in over a year - but the airplane works both ways, so the door is always open for them to join us up here if they choose to. This year, everyone is working around the holidays.

 There is a lot in life we don't get to choose. And honestly, I am 100% sure this schedule and pace of life isn't going to be sustainable, but we are making the most of this. 

  

It's not the stuff that makes the holidays. It's the smiles and the memories that truly buoy us and keep spirits afloat for the long separations coming up.