Sadie’s Story

Two weeks ago today, life was completely normal. I had two beautiful, seemingly healthy little girls, stressed out only over little things like keeping the house clean, and had just made the decision to quit my part-time job to be at home full time with my babies. Even though I  had a three year old and a newborn, life wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be.

Sadie was proving herself to be the perfect baby. She’s a great sleeper, only fusses when she really needs something, gives out smiles constantly, is extremely laid back, and just has the sweetest little personality. All babies are sweet, but there’s just something special about her- it’s as if God gave her a little extra sprinkling of sugar when He made her. If all babies were as easy as she is, I wouldn’t be able to stop having them!

pure sugar

A few weeks ago I started to notice that Sadie had a really exaggerated startle reflex. At times, she would do it over and over again, even if there was nothing around to give her a reason to. Her eyes would get really wide when her arms went out, almost like she was scared of something. Carli never did anything like that, but I just figured Sadie was really sensitive. Babies have such an underdeveloped nervous system anyways and make weird movements all the time. I didn’t think anything of it.

My mom visited a couple weeks ago, and she also noticed Sadie making these movements. She also thought she was just doing the startle reflex all newborns do, but thought it was odd that she would do it numerous times before she stopped. Again, we just blamed it on an underdeveloped nervous system and normal reflexes.

Not long after my mom left I noticed that before Sadie started these weird jerky reflexes, she would squint her eyes, then would go cross-eyed for a few seconds before being able to re-open them. New babies have a hard time focusing, but it struck me as odd. I asked a group of girlfriends about all these weird things she was doing, telling them it was as if she was having little seizures. I didn’t actually think they were seizures, but it was the only word I could think of to describe it. A friend of mine (who is a nurse) told me that a seizure wouldn’t stop if I pick her up. I thought surely she would stop flailing her arms if I picked her up, so I tried the next day when she started doing it after waking from a nap. I held her tight and her arms wouldn’t stop making those movements. That’s when I knew something was wrong.

So I did what all worried moms do. I googled. Somehow my google search led me to a condition called “Infantile Spasms.” The more I read, the more I was trying to convince myself that she didn’t have it. There was no way my baby could have something this horribly wrong with her. It’s a rare type of seizure disorder, found only in infants, that causes significant brain damage. Most babies who have this (90%) go on to have severe developmental and cognitive delays. More than 50% of babies with Infantile Spasms will suffer from some other sort of epilepsy later in life.

After I found this scary diagnosis, I do what I always do when I’m worried one of my kids has something horribly wrong with them. Look for a reason she wouldn’t have this- so I kept googling. The description of the spasms didn’t sound like the movements she made. However, when I found YouTube videos of babies with infantile spasms, my heart sank. Their movements were almost identical to Sadie’s.

I showed Nick, and he agreed that our daughter could most definitely have this. I made an appointment with her pediatrician the next day, who set us up with an EEG and referred us to a neurologist. Unfortunately, as with most specialists, we weren’t able to get her seen by a pediatric neurologist for another 3 weeks. Our pediatrician thought the movements might be caused by silent reflux, and prescribed Zantec. I was hopeful she was right, but my gut just told me differently.

24 hours after our pediatrician appointment, Sadie had several more episodes. I didn’t feel like we could wait three more weeks for answers, so I took her to the emergency room at Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta. My husband and I both decided it was worth the $100 copay just to give us a peace of mind that nothing was horribly wrong with her. As soon as the ER physician saw a video that I took of Sadie having one of her episodes, he brought a neurology team in to look at her. Within an hour she was admitted and hooked up to an EEG.

That whole evening was a blur. I hadn’t prepared myself at all to be admitted, and I definitely hadn’t prepared myself for the worried looks on the doctors faces and the sense of urgency they had. I had fully expected to be sent home, feeling silly that I drove my baby to an emergency room an hour away just to be told she has really bad reflux. I called Nick, and he left work to come be with us at the hospital. His parents just so happened to be in town that weekend, so Carli was taken care of. My good friend Holli brought me clothes, my toothbrush and a few other things at home to get me through the night. I remember sitting in the hospital room with her, eating Chickfila and trying to talk  about anything but what was actually happening. I had no idea what the tests that were being run on Sadie would find, and I didn’t want to even think about it.

I got about 30 minutes of sleep that night. Sadie had several seizures, and my heart was breaking every time. It was so hard to see her, lying in a hospital bed with electrodes glued to her head and wires connecting her to a machine. I wanted to be able to make everything better, just like I do with my older daughter. Clean it, kiss it, and put a band-aid on it. But this was a boo boo I couldn’t fix.

The next morning she had an MRI, and that moment was one of the hardest moments to get through. The doctor warned me that I may not want to be with her while she was being sedated because it can be a pretty big shock. There was no way I was going to let her be sedated without me in there with her. Right before the doctor injected the propofol into her IV, she started getting fussy- poor thing was so hungry! It had been almost 10 hours since she was last able to eat. Within a matter of seconds of the getting the propofol, she immediately stopped fussing and became pale and completely limp. It broke me to see her that way. As I watched her tiny little body be placed into the big MRI machine I wanted so bad to take her away from that room and just run as fast as I could with her out of the hospital.

I called my mom as soon as I got back to our little waiting room. I remember crying so hard I could barely speak. I didn’t want them to find anything on the MRI, but at the same time I was slightly hopeful they would. I had gone through different diagnoses in my head, and a part of me hoped it was an easily treatable brain tumor. Anything involving the brain is scary, and that seemed like the best option out of everything else.

After several more tests were taken, including an x-ray, we were finally able to speak with the neurologist about her diagnosis. He showed us the EEG and confirmed what I was fearing the most- Sadie had an extremely rare and catastrophic form of epilepsy- infantile spasms (West’s Syndrome). Her brain was a mess of high voltage chaotic patterns. Patterns which prevent progression and cause regression. Patterns that would cause irreversible brain damage. At first I felt relief in knowing that we finally had answers. Then I felt as if I’d been kicked in the stomach. The neurologist was very blunt with us and did not sugarcoat her diagnosis. I felt as if I was losing my beautiful, perfect baby girl. What did this mean for her? I never pictured her not having a life like her sister.  I never imagined raising a kid with special needs. It was so much to take in. I kept probing the doctor, trying to get him to say that our case was different. Sadie would beat the odds and be okay. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

With infantile spasms, you treat it very aggressively. Each day having spasms is a day lost. We chose the medication Vigabatrin (Sabril) because Sadie was also having partial seizures before her spasm episodes and this type of medication would treat both the seizures and the spasms. We were warned that this medication could cause irreversible vision damage, but that seemed like a better option than irreversible brain damage. Sadie didn’t respond right away to the medication, and it was very discouraging. She would start the day off well, then have several episodes in the afternoon. Some days she would have long episodes (the longest being 16 minutes long) and some days her episodes would only last 2-3 minutes. It seemed that we would take two steps forward, then one step back. We were finally discharged six days after she was admitted, and she still wasn’t responding to the medication like we wanted her to. But everything that was being done for her at the hospital we could do for her at home. We were still slowly increasing her dose every three days, so we were hopeful that we just hadn’t reached her therapeutic dose yet.

Now we have been home for 4 days, and Sadie is doing much better. We have finally seen a huge improvement and she seems to be responding to the Sabril. We are also extremely hopeful that Sadie will be okay once we maintain full control of these little seizures. We haven’t seen any regression in her development (a really good sign) and she is continuing to meet her milestones. She actually rolled over this weekend! That’s a milestone she really isn’t expected to hit until another month from now. She’s her same sweet self, fully engaged when we talk to her and gives us nonstop gummy smiles. Gosh she’s just amazing. I’ve been blown away by what a little fighter she is. I know God gave her the personality and the strength to be able to handle whatever this condition throws at her.

Looking back at everything, we’ve been able to see God’s hand in all of this. We didn’t have to worry once about Carli- Nick’s parents happened to be here when Sadie was admitted, and my mom was able to be here to take over once we knew we would be staying awhile. We are in the best place we can be for this kind of diagnosis. Scottish Rite Children’s Hospital receives the most infants with this condition than any other hospital in the country- so I felt that she had the best care she could get. There is even a clinic in Atlanta that specifically treats and follows kids with infantile spasms- which is crazy to me because this condition is so rare. We will be making the drive up there regularly now, but I feel blessed that our drive is only an hour away to get such dedicated care. The support we’ve had since this happened has been overwhelming. So many of our great friends came up to see us, bring us groceries, clothes from home, and anything else we needed. Just having them in that little hospital room with us was helpful and made us feel less alone. Three of my good friends visited right after we received her diagnosis- having them with me helped to numb the sting a little bit. Our pastor happened to be in the room with us when Sadie had to have a Vitamin B6 test done. During this test she had Vitamin B6 injected into her veins- and it burns! She was screaming and so uncomfortable- it was pretty traumatic. Just having the extra support in the room provided a sense of peace.

We don’t know how Sadie’s story is going to be written, this is something that is fully out of our control. That’s hard as a parent- I just want everything to be okay for her. I don’t want her to ever struggle. I don’t want kids to make fun of her if she has disabilities. I know that whatever God’s plan is for her life, it’s beautiful. No matter how this impacts her, I know she’ll bring joy wherever she goes. She’ll handle any challenges life throws at her with dignity and grace. She’ll be perfect no matter what.

Life isn’t perfect, and it certainly isn’t easy. Trials like this can break us, or they can make us stronger, better people in the end. I’m at peace knowing that God’s plan always wins in the end. I’m already seeing that at work. I’m holding onto these verses that happened to be a part of my devotions the week I was in the hospital with Sadie:

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us. -Romans 8:18

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. – 2 corinthians 4:8-9

And just as if God knew I needed the comfort when we were leaving the hospital, this came on the radio as soon as we got in the car to leave. His plan is always better. Always.

They say it only takes a little faith
To move a mountain
Well good thing
A little faith is all I have, right now
But God, when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Oh give me the strength to be able to sing
It is well with my soul
I know You’re able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt
Would all go away if You’d just say the word
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
-“Even If” by Mercy Me
And lastly, here is a video of Sadie having one of her episodes. This is what we showed the doctor in the emergency room, and is a classic clinical sign of infantile spasms. This usually goes misdiagnosed for months as colic or reflux because most pediatricians never see it in their practice. Only 1200 babies get diagnosed each year! Because we caught it so early, we are hoping there will be very little impact to her development.
My advice to other mothers? Always trust your gut when you think something may be wrong with your child. And google isn’t always bad! It’s what I found on google that scared me, and encouraged me to bring her in to get checked out. I’m so thankful we brought her in when we did and didn’t wait. Otherwise, things could have ended up much worse.

Pregnancy Blues

I’m officially three weeks postpartum and am adjusting to being a mama of two. I love the newborn stage- the constant snuggles, their smell, their tiny fingers and toes, those little reflexes, their sweet innocence. And of course the best part…they can’t talk back! If kids stayed babies forever I don’t think I would be able to stop having them! Although some days certainly have been tough (as expected), I am loving it. And even though miss those tiny little kicks and hiccups in my belly, it’s nice to be able to snuggle little Sadie on the outside now.

My pregnancy with Sadie was much different than Carli’s, and somewhat difficult. I had the picture-perfect textbook pregnancy with my first. I exercised regularly, ate almost perfectly, gained the appropriate amount of weight, was extremely happy and excited, became emotional only over the expected stuff (Publix commercials and Mother’s Day ads), and nested the entire nine months. I couldn’t wait to be a mom.

I expected things to go about the same with this pregnancy- I loved being pregnant the first time and didn’t expect to feel any differently with my second. My first trimester was about the same, only leaving me slightly more nauseous. Early in my second trimester we found out we were having another girl- exactly what I wanted. I was ecstatic, and my motivation built to get the girls’ rooms ready, wash and sort out Carli’s baby clothes that had been put away, and start organizing the house to make room for another baby. I couldn’t believe that I was getting exactly what I  had always dreamed about since I was a little girl- raising sisters! It all seemed so surreal.

When I was about 20 weeks pregnant things changed. I can’t really pinpoint what happened, or if there was a certain event that caused it, but my mood instantly shifted. I no longer felt like I was in control of my emotions. I was constantly crying for no reason and lost my motivation to do anything. I became increasingly negative, my appetite became poor, and most days it was hard to function. Even something as simple as making a grocery list seemed daunting. I lashed out and distanced myself from my husband, became a lot quieter around friends, and just went through the motions when I was taking care of Carli. A lot of the time I would sit her in front of a movie so she wouldn’t notice when I went upstairs to cry. In some ways I felt helpless- and also very angry. It terrifies me to not be in control. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just snap out of it. I didn’t know what was wrong with me- my usual personality had done a complete 180, and I  had no idea how to feel like myself again.

People started to notice, and I brushed it off,  blaming it on lack of sleep. It’s easy for me to be vulnerable about things that have happened in the past, but it’s extremely hard for me to be transparent about things I’m currently going through. I don’t like being a burden to people, and most of the time I’ll brush things off thinking it’s no big deal. There are people out there dealing with much worse! I felt selfish and angry with myself. Here I was, carrying a perfectly healthy baby girl with another beautiful and healthy toddler at home, and yet I felt completely torn apart inside. What was wrong with me??

At my 28 week prenatal visit my doctor’s office gave me a depression screen to fill out- normal protocol at that stage in the pregnancy. I remember answering the questions honestly and it giving me a pretty big wake up call. My doctor is amazing, and we had a pretty in-depth discussion about how I had been feeling. I remember telling her that I thought I may have postpartum depression- but I wasn’t postpartum! I had no idea that it can be common to have depression symptoms during pregnancy as well- these mothers being more at risk for postpartum depression. Pregnancy hormones can do some crazy things!

I had never understood how a mother could even go through something like postpartum depression. To me, pregnancy and childbirth were so romanticized, something absolutely wonderful. What in the world could cause a mother to be depressed after going through something so incredibly amazing- giving birth to a sweet baby? It never made sense to me, until now. It’s not something they could necessarily control. They weren’t bad moms for feeling that way either.

It’s hard for me to ask for help. But I was fully aware that if I didn’t I wasn’t only hurting myself, I was hurting my kids. And my poor husband! My doctor and I both decided that I wasn’t high enough risk to need any sort of medication, but I did agree to see a therapist who specializes in working with pregnant women. And honestly, it felt so great to be able to talk to a complete stranger about every little thing. I could fully unload everything I had on my mind to someone who didn’t know or judge me. She helped me to change my line of thinking to thoughts that were more realistic and grace-filled. She taught me how to deal with some of the emotions I  didn’t know what to do with.

Beach therapy

Along with getting professional help, I can’t be thankful enough for the support of my friends. They reached out to me, offered to help in any way they could, and most importantly they prayed for me. The minute I  finally opened up about how I was feeling to some of my friends, I felt as if a burden had been lifted. I no longer felt lonely, I felt support.

By the middle of my third trimester, I was already starting to feel more like myself again. And now, three weeks postpartum, I feel better than I have in months. I’m sure my husband would tell you I’m still slightly nuts- but I think it’s much closer to a level of normal for just having a baby a few weeks ago! I’m not sure where my emotional state would be right now if I hadn’t reached out for help. I don’t feel any signs of postpartum depression right now, and I’m keeping myself very aware of how I’m feeling mentally. I think it’s normal to feel a bit overwhelmed and stressed in this stage of life, but it’s not to the point where it is debilitating. If it gets to that point, I may need to reach out for help again. And I’ve accepted that it’s okay- I need to take care of myself first so I can be the best possible mom for my kids.

To keep myself grounded, I’m trying harder than ever to lower my expectations for myself and my family. More grace, more laughter, more messes, and a greater appreciation of the place I am in my life right now. Understanding that it’s not always going to be easy, and to accept that. To laugh at myself more and be kinder to myself. To ask for help when I need it, and accept that I can’t control everything.

So to anyone who was in my line of fire the past few months- I’m sorry. Thank you to everyone (especially my husband and Carli) who gave me unending grace. If you prayed for me, I felt it. If you fed me, if you offered to help in any way, if you just texted asking me how I was doing- you have no idea the impact that had on me.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

 

Goodbye 20’s

I’ve officially reached the last week of my 20’s. For years I thought I would dread this moment- I thought the end of my 20’s would mean the end of having fun and the beginning of getting old. I only saw getting older as going to bed early, getting bad knees and dreading the month of March (my birthday month) for the rest of my life. I’m starting to see it’s so much more than that. I actually can’t wait to turn my back on my 20’s- it was fun, I’ve learned some life lessons, by the grace of God I’m still alive (I made some stupid decisions in my early 20’s), and my experiences have shaped me into the adult I am today. I’m ready for a new chapter, one that I hope will be filled more with grace, rest, and deep connections rather than the hustle, selfishness and surface-level relationships I was drawn to a decade ago.

My 21st birthday- this night did not end well.

I look back, and the experiences I’ve had over the past 10 years feels more like a lifetime. I graduated college, grew to be completely independent from my parents, met my husband- got engaged to my husband- and married my husband, overcame the challenges of struggling with an eating disorder, lived in four different states, became a registered dietitian, worked for two different companies, traveled all over North America, ran 6 marathons, and became a mother. I’ve gained some very meaningful relationships, but I’ve also lost some. I’ve gained a boatload of wisdom, and I’m a much stronger person than I was in my early 20’s. I’ve learned that I can’t let people walk all over me. I’ve found my voice- I’m not at timid as I once was.

I don’t have it all figured out. I don’t think I ever will! That’s the beautiful thing about getting older- you are continuously learning from experiences. Looking back, oh how I would have done things so much differently if I knew then what I  know now! I catch myself saying all the time- “If I only knew.” Even though there are so many things I could change about my past that would have made my life then (and even today) a little bit easier, I wouldn’t do it. Constantly falling and getting back up is what has made me a stronger person. It’s given me confidence and I’ve learned from my mistakes. The best part is, I can take those mistakes and help other young people who are struggling with the same thing. God never wastes a hurt. I believe that firmly now.

There are areas that I’m working on to make my 30’s more grace-filled, restful, and deeply connected than my 20’s. The past 10 years have worn me out, both physically and emotionally. I’m starting to learn- it’s just not worth it.

People-pleasing: NO MORE

If there was an award for pleasing other people and not ever letting others down, I would win it. It doesn’t matter who it is, it could be someone I met 30 minutes ago or someone I’ve known my whole life, I want to make people happy. Most would say this is a good quality. It can be, but not if you’re letting down the people who are closest to you in order to win over the approval from others. It’s good to be dependable and a hard-worker. Those are qualities I’ll always want to possess, but no longer at the expense of my own well-being and certainly not at the expense of my family. I’m tired of constantly letting my husband or daughter down just so others will praise me for being a good and dependable person. I’m learning to find balance here, and it’s been difficult to navigate. Not only because I feel guilty for saying the word “no,” but also because I feel that some of the value I place on myself comes from making other people happy, no matter what the cost. But I’m looking at my own family, and they want me to be present more. Not for other people, but for them. My husband and two girls will always come first, followed by my closest friends and the rest of my family, followed by everyone else.

Not everyone is going to like me

I want everyone to be my best friend. I don’t ever want to offend anyone, I don’t want to make people mad because my opinion is different from theirs, and I certainly want everyone to approve of me. I know this is all normal, especially for women. My husband could care less what other people think of him- I envy him for that! I also get envious of women, usually who are much older than I am (like my mom or some of my older friends), who say that they just don’t care what people think of them anymore. They are going to be their own person and not let people’s opinions get in the way of that. Gosh, what a burden would be lifted off of my shoulders if I felt that way! This is hard for me, but definitely a goal of mine. It’s difficult to form deep relationships with people if you are always at the surface level, just because you are worried about what they are going to think of you. The more I’ve come out of my shell and allowed myself to open up and just be me, the deeper some of my friendships have grown. And some have grown to be more distant. As hard as it is for me to be okay with that, I’m accepting it. I would much rather have close connections that allow me to be comfortable being myself, than just having surface-level relationships.

More rest

I spent my 20’s focused on being exhausted and shrinking. This is where I found most of my value. I think that’s part of the reason why I loved marathon training so much. After a 20 mile run my body would feel drained and small. This tired and thin body was everything to me, and if I didn’t feel as light as a I wanted to or if I didn’t wake up the next morning still feeling tired, I felt worthless. I hate that my mind has become so addicted to that feeling, and it’s been hard to erase. It’s different from getting a high after a good workout at the gym or feeling proud of yourself because you ate healthy that day. I was a slave to it. And now? My almost 30-year old body feels like it’s 60 sometimes. Everything still works well and my knees are still holding up great (thank you Jesus), but sometimes I feel as if the abuse I put my body through for so long has taken its toll. I know I can’t treat my body like this forever, I only have one! Gone are the 2-3 workouts a day, exercising even when I feel exhausted (I’m no longer afraid of lying on the couch if I need it), and 15 mile runs in the heat of the day. I want to take care of my body and give it some grace. I stay active as much as I can and do an actual workout 5 days per week. I rest when I need it, and am no longer finding value in how tired or small I feel.

I miss racing as much as a used to, but am definitely enjoying the quality time I get to spend with friends and family as a result of not training for such long hours!

More play

I want everything to be perfect and look perfect all the time. I am always looking for something to do- sweep the floors, fold laundry, load the dishwasher- it just stresses me out if these things pile up. I about have a panic attack if my kitchen floors are dirty! I promise you, I hate being late to anything, but cleaning up dirty floors always takes priority to getting out the door. This drives my husband (and even more recently Carli) absolutely crazy. I’m not sure what made me to be wired this way, but the past 10 years I have always felt as if I have to earn rest and playtime. Work hard, play hard is my motto. If everything is done, if the house looks perfect, if I got my workout in….then we can have fun. I don’t want my kids to look back and just remember a mom who was there, but not really there. Instead of rushing around making sure everything is in place all the time, I want to be certain that I am fully present in their lives. No, it won’t ever get it the point where I’m okay with living in a filthy house, and I want my kids to know that there is a time for doing chores and cleaning up our messes. But I no longer want to be a slave to a to-do list. Instead, I want to enjoy impromptu play with Carli more often, and fully allow myself to be a part of her little world.

My typical play 6 years ago. My motto for most of my 20’s was YOLO

More grace

I’m hard on myself, and this has gotten much worse after becoming a mom. I am quick to put blame on myself, especially if Carli is acting out. I compare myself to other moms and judge myself for things that are sometimes out of my control. I’ll call myself a pushover mom, fault myself for not being confident enough in my ability to raise her well, and make myself believe that I’m a bad parent because my own parenting and discipline style is different from someone else. I’m always questioning myself- am I doing this right? Maybe that mom is doing it better.   

I’ve had to step back from this and really look at the big picture. All kids are different and there are lots of different parenting styles. I’m doing what I believe is best for my two-year old. She is a lot like me and we both have very strong personalities- and are both very strong-willed! It’s going to be a challenge to raise her with her headstrong personality (now I truly believe in karma- sorry mom), but if I can help her channel all that energy and determination she has toward a positive direction, I have no doubt she’ll grow into a strong young woman. I just have to give both myself (and her- especially when she is a teenager) a lot more grace.

Nights used to always end like this…

 

….And now they end like this

Baby #2 arriving this summer!

We are so excited for the arrival of our second baby girl, due late July! As Carli puts it, she is going to be a “BIG BIG sister!!” This pregnancy has already been much different than my first, and I’m learning that I can’t compare the two. I’m also learning to give myself more grace, rest when I need it, and ask for help when I need it. Being pregnant with a very active two year old isn’t easy! I plan on doing some futures posts about what I eat while pregnant to keep myself and my baby healthy, and what I do for exercise while pregnant. Also will have updates on Stay tuned!

 

New Year- New Blog!

When I started blogging last year I learned a couple of things. I enjoyed keeping a blog and loved to share with others simple ways to eat healthy. However, there were lots of other topics I wanted to blog about, but felt I couldn’t because my blog was centered around nutrition. There’s so much more to my everyday life other than healthy recipes and the type of food I buy at the grocery store. I’m hoping that with this new blog I can continue to write about how my family stays healthy and give expert advice on foods and nutrition, but I also want to write about my experiences (both the highs and lows) of being a mom, a wife, and just making it through life.

I’ll continue to post our family’s favorite healthy recipes and tricks I use to get my toddler (and meat and potato lover husband) to eat healthy. I’ll continue to write about how balance healthy eating, exercise and being a mom. This year I’ll also post about family updates and the many joys and challenges that come with parenting. Because #parentingforreal- it ain’t easy, it’s comical, it’s a blessing and it’s something that requires a lot of grace on both sides. I hope to be able to relate to a lot of you and be as real as possible- I’m pretty much an open book!

Why the name change?

Chews Mindfully was a name I gave careful thought to and loved- but again it is a name that applies to a nutrition-only blog. I wanted to change the name to better fit the content of what I’ll be writing about. Life outside the bubble was a name inspired by where I live. The town we live in, Senioa GA is right outside a small town called Peachtree City. I was talking to someone a few weeks ago, who said he was familiar with Peachtree City when I used it as a location marker to explain where we lived. He commented that everyone in Peachtree City seems to be living the perfect suburban life. That’s a pretty accurate description! Peachtree City is referred to as “the bubble”- an idyllic setting with golf cart paths (of course everyone owns a golf cart), pretty lakes, amazing schools, lots of money, and of course- the perfect suburban life. So because we live in Senoia, we are outside of that picture-perfect bubble. I love Peachtree City, and we may consider moving there when our two year old starts kindergarten. I’ll be honest, for the longest time I wanted to live in Peachtree City just so I could claim that status- you can hold your head a little higher when you say you live in the bubble.

As I get older, I’m learning that life isn’t meant to be picture-perfect. If anything, it’s one big beautiful mess. It’s exhausting to try and keep up with the Jones’s, and a lesson I’ve learned over the past few years is that the more you try to keep up, the less happy you are. A goal for myself as I enter my 30’s this year is to live outside the bubble- not just geographically but also mentally. I want to quit worrying about what other people think, focus on the moment rather than trying to make it perfect, and celebrate life as it comes without worrying about what I can do to make the future better. Thanks for coming along for the ride with me!

Cheers to 2017!

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