I’m stronger than I thought!

So I’ve started lifting weights… nothing wild, just what’s “recommended for my age.” Supposedly it keeps my muscles from quietly clocking out and filing for unemployment. We’ll see.

I actually like it, which feels a little suspicious. I’ve added a few other exercises too, so now I look like someone who has a plan, even if it looks super uncoordinated, it is all done with good intentions.

I’m on week two and still using the same weights. Honestly, it feels like I’m taking a prerequisite class… just making sure I’m strong enough before I enroll in the real deal. 😄

For now, I lift… carefully, consistently, and with just enough confidence to avoid injuring anything important. Progress is progress.

We are Free....

When you own a business, there’s a version of you that people come to know. She is polished, patient, and steady. She smiles through difficult conversations, chooses her words carefully, and stays composed no matter how others behave.

And she is me. But she is not all of me.

She is the version I needed to be to protect what I built—my staff, my families, my reputation. She holds her tongue on certain topics, keeps her opinions to herself, and responds instead of reacting. Not because she doesn’t have feelings, but because she does.

There is another side of me too. The one with stronger opinions, quicker reactions, and deeper emotions. The one who doesn’t always say things with a smile.

Both are real.

One built the life, and the other gets to live it. And for the first time in a long time, they are finally allowed to be the same person.

What would I tell my teenage self today.

Teenage me was afraid of not being enough.

Not good enough.
Not smart enough.
Not pretty enough.

It wasn’t loud back then. It didn’t need to be.
It was just always… there. Quiet, steady, convincing. It showed up in comparison. In second-guessing. In wondering if I measured up in rooms I hadn’t even walked into yet. And the thing about that kind of fear is… it doesn’t ask for proof. It just settles in and waits for you to believe it.

I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly feel confident. I didn’t magically outgrow it. What I did instead … I moved forward anyway. I worked. I built. I showed up. Even on the days I questioned myself. Even on the days that voice was louder than anything else. Over time, that “not enough” girl didn’t disappear… she got busy building a life.

I became a wife and a mother. I raised children, showing up day after day for the people who mattered most. I built a career. A business. Not one… but three centers built over 34 years. I was ambitious, determined, a hard worker. Not because I always felt confident,  but because I kept going anyway.

Over time, something interesting happened. I stopped trying to feel like enough… and started building a life that reflected it. Not perfectly. Not without doubt. But consistently.

And it turns out, when you spend years showing up like that, your life starts to speak louder than your fears ever did.

Now, looking back, I can see her clearly … that teenage girl who was so unsure. And I don’t judge her. She didn’t know yet. She didn’t know what she would build. She didn’t know how strong she actually was. She didn’t know she would spend a lifetime quietly proving those fears wrong.

Teenage me was afraid of not being enough… 
not good enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough.

Adult me?

I did it anyway. I was more than enough all along!

Final thought

I ran a center for decades, built something valuable, and exited in a way that didn’t harm my staff. That’s not betrayal—that’s good leadership.

Happy retirement

I sold my center. It was a big, life-changing decision, and yes—it allows me to step into retirement with peace of mind.

What most people don’t see is that in order to make that happen, I had to sign a legal agreement that required complete confidentiality until closing. That wasn’t optional, and it wasn’t personal.

Nothing changed for my staff or the families we serve. That was always my priority—to make sure everything stayed stable and secure for everyone involved.

Change can bring emotions, and I understand that. But sometimes doing things the right way doesn’t look the way people expect.

This chapter meant everything to me. And I’m incredibly proud of how it was handled—from beginning to end.

Onward and upward 🤍

Every choice you make shapes your future

We like to think destiny is this grand, sweeping force written in the stars, but let me tell you—the reality is much less glamorous. Your path is actually being forged right now by whether you decide to hit snooze for the third time or finally drag yourself out of bed. Every tiny, seemingly insignificant choice I make—from eating that questionable gas station sushi to ignoring my car's check engine light—is actively laying down the bricks of my tomorrow.

I am the sole architect of my own existence, which is frankly a terrifying thought considering I still occasionally push doors that clearly say pull. So, while it might feel like I'm just winging it through a standard Sunday, I try to remember that the older version of myself is probably watching me through the space-time continuum, either slow-clapping in admiration or aggressively face-palming at my current path.

Fires are EVERYWHERE

Being a daycare director is basically a full-time career in extreme fire management—and the toddlers aren't the ones holding the matches.

Between the unpredictable mood swings and the constant demands for attention, managing the adults has easily become the hardest part of the job. On one side, you have an increasingly demanding staff. On the other, you have parents who view our center policies as mild suggestions, expect glowing daily reports, and are utterly shocked at the mere suggestion that their little angel could ever do anything wrong.

Honestly, the kids are the easy part, even if it sometimes feels like they’re out there raising themselves these days. I miss the era when running a center didn't require a background in crisis negotiation. Back then, state regulations didn't constantly contradict themselves, hiring reliable help felt possible, and parenting didn't feel like a lost art.

At this point, retirement isn’t just a career milestone. It’s a highly anticipated rescue mission.

Learning to be

Let’s be honest—getting older is hard.

It’s not just the physical changes we all expect; it’s the mental and emotional weight that comes with them too. Physically, the signs are there for anyone to see. The wrinkles, the thinning hair, the loss of that glow we once took for granted. Our bodies remind us in quieter, more persistent ways. The aches linger longer. Getting out of bed takes a little more intention. That spring in our step? It quietly slipped away somewhere along the line. Even something as simple as getting up off the floor can turn into a full production.

But the harder part isn’t what you see—it’s what you feel.

We spent so many years living in a world of “firsts.” First boyfriend, first job, first car, first home, first marriage, first child. Life felt exciting, like it was always opening new doors, always giving us something to look forward to.

And then, somewhere along the way, the story changes.

Without really noticing, we begin to recognize that some things may be our “lasts.” The last car we’ll buy. The last home we’ll live in. The last pet we’ll love. The last chapter of a career. And that realization doesn’t feel celebratory—it feels heavy. Almost like admitting defeat. Like calling the game before you’re ready. Like the curtain slowly closing.

But maybe that’s not the whole story.

Because while we may be leaving behind the excitement of firsts, we gain something different—something quieter, but just as meaningful. We begin to understand what actually matters. The noise fades. The need to prove ourselves softens. We stop chasing everything and start choosing what’s worth our time.

We care less about being everything to everyone… and more about being at peace with ourselves.

And if we’re lucky, life still gives us a few beautiful firsts along the way—like holding your first grandchild, a moment that somehow carries both everything you’ve lived and everything still to come.

The circle may get smaller, but it gets stronger. The moments may look simpler, but they feel deeper. Time, once something we thought we had plenty of, becomes something we handle with more care.

And maybe that’s the trade.

Maybe aging isn’t about losing life—it’s about seeing it more clearly.

Yes, there are “lasts.” But there are still moments ahead. Still laughter. Still connection. Still meaning. Just not always in the loud, flashy way it once was.

Aging isn’t the end of the story.

It’s just a different chapter—one that asks us to slow down, to reflect, and to find beauty in a life that’s no longer about becoming… but about truly being.

Easter Eggs

If you’ve noticed my recent absence from the blog, it’s not because I ran out of things to say. I just have secrets. A ridiculous, bordering-on-absurd amount of secrets.

Frankly, it’s a miracle I’ve kept my mouth shut this long. I am historically terrible at keeping things under wraps, so if I type even one wrong syllable, the floodgates will open and my highly classified information will be out in the wild.

Massive life changes are on the horizon, and things are about to look very different around here. To be honest, I’m actually a little relieved my readership isn't the size of a small country right now. I’ve been dropping subtle hints in my posts lately—think Taylor Swift-level Easter eggs, just without the stadium tours and sequined bodysuits.

So far, no one has cracked the code, which is entirely for the best. If my master plan leaked early, it would completely ruin the dramatic reveal I have playing in my head.

Big changes are coming. I absolutely cannot wait to finally spill the beans—and more importantly, to start living them. Stay tuned!

Powerful and Important!

Men don't get nearly enough credit. That's not a slight against women—it's simply an observation that's worth making.

Take construction workers, for example. They scale skyscrapers dozens of stories high, connected to the building by little more than a rope and a helmet. Most of us wouldn't last five minutes up there, yet these men show up every day to build the cities we live in.

And it doesn't stop there. For centuries, men have gone to war, sacrificed their lives, and worked grueling jobs to provide for their families and communities. Many have single-handedly put kids through college, kept a roof over their family's heads, and done so without much recognition.

There's a tendency in modern culture to undermine traditionally masculine traits—strength, protectiveness, and a natural drive to provide. But these qualities aren't flaws. They're part of what makes men such a vital part of the family unit and society at large.

None of this diminishes the role of women. Raising children, nurturing a family, and contributing to the workforce are all extraordinary things. But it takes both. Men and women each bring something unique and essential to the table, and it's only when we work together as equal partners that things truly function well.

Perhaps it's an old-fashioned view, but dismissing the value of masculinity doesn't serve anyone. Men are the backbone of many families and communities—and it's time we acknowledged that more openly.

My allergies are bad right now.

Me: when I get up and start moving around I get a headache!

Dennis: THAT’S when I get a headache!!  When you get up and start moving around! 😳

🕷️

This is the year for FAFO.

Here's something I've been thinking about lately. People tend to prioritize themselves—which is understandable. But it got me reflecting on my own position as a business owner, and whether I'm too accommodating.

As a business owner, I'm often cast as the villain. When employees can't pay their bills or feel they deserve more, I'm the first one they blame—not their own skills or work ethic. Many move from one job to the next without ever truly appreciating what an employer provides: stability, opportunity, and a paycheck.

Over the past year, I've heard more and more people talking about quitting, finding new jobs, or even retiring. There's nothing wrong with that—growth and self-improvement are important. But when someone has supported your journey, don't let them feel like their contributions meant nothing. The word I'm looking for is unappreciated.

You are not the boss of me!

   I’ve always had a low tolerance for nonsense, but lately, my patience account is officially overdrawn. I am done treating my life like a group project where I need majority approval just to spend my own money. I’ve reached that magical point where I plan to do exactly what I want, without needing to file a request form in triplicate first.

Too Many Acronyms in my Life

 I’ve officially exhausted my supply of patience for stupidity. Actually, let's be precise: I’ve lost the will to deal with people. Specifically, clients.

It’s a cruel cosmic joke that to keep my business running, I have to actually interact with the public. I’m rapidly losing the ability to feign interest. Yes, I understand the basic economic principle that clients equal income, but let's be clear: they are not my boss.

I already answer to DHS, NECPA, FACFP, and QRIS. Honestly, how many acronyms does it take to supervise a room full of toddlers? I have quite enough overlords, thank you. So, when a client approaches me with some trivial, earth-shattering complaint, I don't feel the urge to provide "service." I feel the urge to cut them loose and let them annoy someone else.

Be careful what you wish for

 "Be careful what you wish for," they say. After running a business for over three decades, I’m finally taking that advice to heart. For years, I’ve been the rock—the one who stayed put through the complaints, the threats to quit, and the walk-outs. I’m often amazed at how some people manage to pay their bills when they seem to have unlimited time to complain! Well, now it’s my turn to do the walking.

The current situation with DHS is, to put it mildly, a mess. They are tearing up the system, and I have zero desire to stick around for the fallout.

I’ve decided to seek a life that offers more meaning than just being the person everyone vents to.The DHS changes—supposedly "just until June"—are the final straw. I am officially done with the endless rules, the regulations, the office politics, and the clients who seem to think businesses run on good vibes rather than revenue. Everyone wants a deal, but "deals" don't meet payroll.

Ultimately, you have to decide who you’re going to please: your staff, your clients, or yourself. For thirty years, I put myself last. Not anymore. I’m starting a new chapter and leaving the chaos for someone else to figure out. If serving as a sounding board is my unofficial job, I should really start charging a consultation fee.

Happy Birthday Mom! You are 92 today!

Heading Back to the Coal Mine

 Tomorrow, I return to work after a seven-week hiatus. To say I have "mixed feelings" would be an understatement. On one hand, I’ve genuinely missed my staff. On the other hand, the thought of dealing with DHS again makes my inner voice scream "NO!" at a volume that is frankly unprofessional.

I have a mountain of work waiting for me, and I’m still undecided on whether I’m dreading it or looking forward to the distraction. I’ve only done the bare minimum while recovering from surgery—which is still an ongoing process, by the way—so the "to-do" list is intimidating. Naturally, I am currently managing that anxiety by procrastinating and writing this blog post instead.

I usually love to work, but I'm questioning if this is still the work I love. Running a daycare should be fun, but the bureaucracy is sucking the joy right out of the room.

However, my house is clean and the holiday chaos is packed away, so I have run out of valid excuses. It’s time to write a list and get moving. Hopefully, after a couple of weeks of catching up, I’ll have a clearer perspective on where I stand in the job market—or at least stop screaming internally.

Boys Take Over!

It was a takeover at my place tonight—Short boys edition! I swapped the girls for the boys and we went straight into party mode. First stop: the grocery store to raid the snack aisle and pick out a feast.

They battled it out on video games while I cooked, and then we all crashed for a movie. These kids are hilarious, full of energy, and absolute blasts to have around. I love it when they visit

Girl Time

Started the New Year right with some much-needed girl time! 💖 It was a blast hanging out with my grand-girls—I've missed them so much. We raided the snack cabinet, played some awesome new games, and got crafty making Valentine cards for friends and family. I'm also teaching them some classic games so the whole family can join in next time! They are growing up way too fast, so I'm soaking up every second of fun they'll give me. 🥰

A Cup of Joe that will Last All Day!

 If I warm up my coffee ONCE..... I warm it up 10 times before I drink it......  If I even drink it!  Dennis teases me when I have any procedure and can't drink anything before that I can still make coffee cause I never drink it anyway!  Today I took down my big Christmas tree that took me about 1.5 hours to do, and in that time I warmed it up 3 times and never took a drink! I even load it up with good stuff sometimes and take a drink... ONE... and then it's to the microwave over and over and over!

I will probably die of thirst with a cup of cold coffee in the next room!