Notes From The Nest

As 2025 comes to a close, I’m taking a moment to sit with what this year truly was. It was growth-filled and energy-draining. It was emotional and honest. It stretched me in ways I didn’t always expect or feel prepared for. I did brave things this year. Not the loud, headline-worthy kind, but the quieter kind that require resolve. I made decisions that asked me to trust myself when it would have been easier to stay comfortable. I began to silence unhelpful narratives written

The countdown is on. Our daughter is bringing her boyfriend home for the holiday. Our nephews are arriving with their little girl for a few days. Thanksgiving dinner has my in-laws are rolling in with my brother and sister in law, and their three kids. My ninety-four-year-old mom will be holding court from her favorite chair. Add two dogs and a lively debate about how the gravy should be made, and suddenly we have fifteen people and what can only be described as a full-contac

The first time I hit “publish” on a Nest2Nxt post, my finger hovered over the button for a full minute. It wasn’t the writing I doubted, it was myself. After years in corporate rooms where every word was edited, every move polished, sharing something personal felt exposed .But I knew if I waited until it felt perfect, I’d never start. Building something new, especially in the messy middle of life, requires a different kind of bravery. Not the fearless kind. The real  kind. T

Somewhere between school drop-offs, travel sports, and client meetings, I lost a little piece of me. Sound familiar? It wasn’t dramatic at first. A skipped workout here, a postponed girls’ night there. Then, somewhere along the way, in the constant act of showing up for everyone else, I forgot how to show up for me. But I wasn’t aware of it. I was aware of, always feeling tired. So tired. Unreasonably annoyed for doing the things I have always done... all of it, grocery sh

Another summer, another version of her...and of me In just a few days, we’ll do what we’ve done nearly every July since she was little, pack up the car and head north to my cousin's cottage in Michigan to celebrate our daughter’s birthday. This morning, a photo popped up in my memories: she’s maybe four, snuggled beside me on the boat, life vest zipped, cheeks still round with babyhood, talking to me like we had all the time in the world. And back then, it felt like we did. B

How an 18-hour road trip became the first step in both our new chapters. In mid-August of 2024, I climbed into the driver’s seat of my Acura RDX, loaded to the brim, with my daughter riding shotgun. We were headed from Fayetteville, Arkansas to Newark, Delaware, making the long trek to drop her off at college. But really, I was dropping her off at the start of the rest of her life. A life where I’d no longer be center stage. Instead, I’d be a guest star, showing up for holida

A story about how fast it all goes and what comes next There she is. Sassy and Snoring. Fast asleep in her car seat, pink barn coat zipped tight, those oversized flower sunglasses barely clinging to her sleepy little face. We were probably mid-flight in a long list of errands, the standard working mom weekend "to do" chaos - snacks in the cupholder, with more ground into the floor of the car, an empty sippy cup floating somewhere, and way past naptime. Some of those days felt