Live Joy

This week I’ve felt a little “off.” It’s hard to explain, I just don’t have the same motivation I usually do. Do you ever have those days where you just feel… blah? You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you don’t feel like yourself. That’s where I’ve been. I know part of it is physical. I haven’t been sleeping well for about a month. The stress of my dog being sick and waking up 3–4 times a night has definitely taken a toll. I’ve still been getting my steps in on the treadmill, but I’ve missed my outdoor walks since she can’t go far while she’s recovering. I’m sure that shift has affected me more than I realized. But it feels like more than just sleep. I’ve been more tired than usual. More emotional. More overwhelmed with everyday life. Even the simple things have felt heavier. And here’s what I’ve realized: I still have to stay consistent, even when I don’t feel like it. I don’t always feel like getting up to work out. I don’t always feel like getting my steps in. Som...

  We hear it everywhere: “Kids are resilient.” Friends say it when we’re wrestling with a hard choice. Therapists say it when a life-altering event is unfolding. Movies and TV repeat it like a comforting mantra. And the other day, I caught myself wondering, do we say that because it’s true, or do we say it because we need it to be true? I think, often, it’s our way of giving ourselves permission. Permission to make a decision that’s hard. Permission to choose something that benefits us. Permission to believe that even if this is painful now, our kids will be “fine.” And sometimes they are. But let’s be honest for a moment. What do adults go to therapy for? Their childhood. The things that were said. The things that weren’t. The moments they felt unsafe, unseen, unworthy, or not enough. The big “T” traumas. The little “t” ones that quietly shaped how they see themselves and the world. Some adults work through those wounds. Some never do. Some carry them into every relat...

  Last week, I wrote about how life requires both the highs and the lows because without grief, we wouldn’t understand joy. Without sadness, we wouldn’t fully recognize happiness. What I didn’t expect was to be living those very words just days later. A few weeks ago, our dog Bailey was diagnosed with pneumonia. She wasn’t eating, her breathing was labored, and when we brought her to the vet, her temperature was dangerously high. X-rays confirmed the infection, and she was immediately started on two antibiotics. We were hopeful. But at her follow-up appointment, everything had gotten worse. Her breathing was more strained, her fever had climbed even higher, and the X-rays showed progression instead of healing. The veterinarians began testing for fungal pneumonia, a process that takes 7–10 days for results and started her on antifungal medication while we waited. Then came the longest 48 hours. She deteriorated quickly. One night, she kept me awake with what I can only...