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Lessons to Learn From Sea Turtles

Let’s be real—if there’s any creature on Earth that knows how to vibe, it’s the sea turtle. These chill, flippered dudes have been cruising the oceans, minding their own business, gliding through the gorgeous waters like they’re late for absolutely nothing. And maybe that’s the first lesson the sea turtle has for me: Relax. You’ll get there. (I have a hard time with that one sometimes!) But beyond their perpetually unbothered expressions and graceful moves, I’ve found that sea turtles carry a surprising amount of symbolic swag.

Ever feel like the world is in a rush and you’re the only one not moving at lightning speed? Definitely—especially on my commute every day! I’ve come to appreciate that turtles are the poster children for “slow and steady wins the race.” I mean, they literally starred in that fable with the hare. (Okay, fine—it was a land turtle, but same energy.)

Lesson learned: Sea turtles remind me that life isn’t a sprint. It’s a long, winding, saltwater-drenched journey. I try to pace myself, breathe, and take snack breaks.

Sea turtles hatch on a beach, immediately dodge a buffet of hungry predators, then swim thousands of miles… only to return years later to the exact same beach to lay their own eggs. GPS? Magic? Sea turtle sorcery? Who knows. But I think it’s pretty impressive.

Lesson learned: I’m learning to trust my instincts. Even when I feel totally lost, I like to believe there’s a little sea turtle inside me that knows the way home. (And by “home,” I mean wherever I feel most like myself—especially if that’s a white sandy beach surrounded by turquoise waters.)

That shell? It’s not just fashionable—it’s functional. It’s protection, armor, and a mobile home all in one. Sea turtles don’t carry stress. They carry boundaries. And I’m trying to do the same.

Lesson learned: It’s okay to go inward sometimes. I’ve learned to withdraw, recharge, and protect my peace when I need to. My shell = my safe space. (And yes, I fully support decorating it with stickers.)

Some sea turtles live to be over 100 years old. That’s a lot of wisdom tucked behind those sleepy eyes. In many cultures, they represent ancient knowledge, patience, and those cosmic, chill-grandparent vibes. I mean, if anyone’s got it figured out, it’s a sea turtle.

Lesson learned: I try not to underestimate my quiet wisdom. I’m learning to speak when it matters, observe more than I react, and if someone asks me for advice, I offer a knowing head nod and my best Dory-inspired: “Just keep swimming.”

Let’s be honest—if I could be reincarnated as anything, a sea turtle would be top-tier. Living at the beach, eating jellyfish like noodles, napping in coral coves, and wearing a permanent smile? That’s the dream.

Lesson learned: I try to embrace my inner beach bum. Life’s way too short to forget sunscreen or stress about tides I can’t control. So I remind myself to ride the waves. Float a little. And also remind myself: be a sea turtle in a sea of jellyfish.

So the next time I feel overwhelmed by the pace of life, I picture a sea turtle. Unbothered. Smooth. Unhurried. Full of ancient wisdom and absolutely zero regrets. They’re my spirit animal when I need to slow down, reconnect, or just float through life with a bit more grace—and a lot more fun. And I try to remember: the sea turtle doesn’t rush… but it always arrives.

Now go forth, and turtle on. Blessings y’all – Amy

Hawaii Stole My Heart

From the sun-kissed sand that sparkles both onshore and beneath the waves, to the breathtaking sunrises and sunsets—and every unforgettable moment in between—I’m pretty sure I left a piece of my soul in Hawaii. I honestly can’t remember ever falling so completely in love with a place. There were a few moments when I think Tim wasn’t entirely sure he’d get me on the plane to come home! Truth be told, I seriously considered finding a local realtor while we were there. I may have just discovered my retirement destination. I’m fairly confident Tim and I could work out a schedule like the whales—summers in Alaska, and the rest of the year in paradise.

We stayed at the Royal Hawaiian in Waikiki, and for our first trip, it was absolutely perfect. Everything was within walking distance, and there was never a shortage of things to do. That said, I think next time we might opt for somewhere a bit more remote—maybe the North Shore—for a different pace and feel. We had intentionally left some gaps in our itinerary so we could go with the flow when the mood struck, but we also made sure to plan a few dedicated beach days, even going so far as to pre-rent umbrellas in the hotel’s reserved beach section.

I think the days I spent playing in the water were probably my favorite—though the day our private guide took us to a hidden local beach might top the list. That’s where I sat and watched my beloved sea turtles until Tim finally made us leave because I was burning in the sun. You all know I’ve always been obsessed with sea turtles, but seeing them in their natural habitat was absolutely magical. Watching them effortlessly move with the ocean’s rhythm—their sheer size, their grace—it took my breath away. That moment is forever etched in my memory. Honestly, I think we could all learn a thing or two from sea turtles about how to roll with the waves of life.

I’ve never really been one to spend much time playing in the sand and surf, even with my lifelong love for the ocean. In the back of my mind, I’m always aware that I’m not a strong swimmer—and just how powerful the ocean really is. But the water at our hotel was something else. I could walk way out and still only be in water up to my hips. The ocean was, of course, salty—I told Tim I needed a margarita to go with all that salt while we were splashing around—but it was so incredibly clear. And in the afternoons, when the sand got stirred up, it sparkled beneath the surface like glitter. Absolute magic.

View from the water looking back at our hotel

Of course, we met some truly kind souls at the hotel bar—because you know me, I never go anywhere without picking up a new friend or two. Despite the volume of guests they serve every day, each of the bartenders made us feel genuinely welcome and right at home. I also discovered that Mai Tais aren’t really my thing… but a blended coconut mojito? Absolutely my jam. And definitely a certified nap inducer!

I had some fish tacos that were surprisingly delicious—especially considering how far we were from the South—and I’m pretty sure I ate my weight in pineapple over the course of the week. I’ve never had pineapple that good in my life. It got to the point where I was asking for a plate of it as my breakfast side every morning. And funnily enough, despite eating and drinking whatever I wanted, I came home a few pounds lighter. Tim says it’s because we were so active… but I think it’s more likely my body was just in its happy place. LOL.

Tim’s promised we’ll go back—and soon—but for now, I’m content to channel a little Hawaiian magic into some corner of the house and keep dreaming about the day we return. If you haven’t been yet, do yourself a favor: book the plane ticket. It’s truly a magical place.

Blessings y’all – Amy

At The Intersection of Joy & Grief

I made a decision about a month or so ago that I was slowly going to come off the anti-depressants I’ve been on since PawPaw died. That we maxed out after Fred died and had to change completely during COVID because they weren’t working. I’ve reached a chapter in my life where I have such a strong support system and I’ve done so much work in counseling I felt like it was time.

But it’s that time of year again. The month or so I spend holding my breath each day as I open TimeHop and each time I talk to my kids. The memories of him that are in my oldest daughter’s smile, in my son’s laugh, or in my youngest daughter’s tender heart. The anniversary of Fred’s passing is today and, as this new season of my life progresses, the time of year I am so besieged with emotions I can barely sort them.

Guilt is constant because I have found joy again. I wouldn’t ever want the kids to think I’ve forgotten the life we had with their dad. Yet I made a promise to Fred that I wouldn’t be sad too long and that I would marry again. Grief because no matter what I still miss him. Confusion over missing him when I have a man in my life now that loves me to a depth that is indescribable. Sadness because he’s missing out on momentous occasions in my children’s lives. Our first grandchild will make an appearance in September and I know his presence will be missed even more than it already is.

I know that it’s been long enough since he’s been gone that most days I choose joy. I choose to thank God each morning when I do my prayers for the life I have now and the blessings he’s given me. On days like today I feel like I’m standing at an intersection of joy and grief and while I know I need to choose joy more today than any other day the sadness of grief is so deep it’s hard not to give in to it.

Trying to focus on joy I think back to that last “perfect” Lanford Saturday we shared with Fred. It was May 20, 2017 and Fred had been home from the hospital for about a month. It was one of those days where none of us could sit still and were so joyous from having gotten Fred through rehab and home that we just wanted to be out in the world. It was still spring and the weather was gorgeous. We spend the day doing some of our most favorite things. We went to Grapevine and had wine and snacks on Main Street. It was Main Street days in downtown Grapevine and we wandered around different booths for quite a while. The kids each got to have a cast made of their hand holding their dads. Something we didn’t know how very soon would be an irreplaceable treasure from the day. We finished in Grapevine around 3 pm and by 6 pm were back out headed to go see live music at The Truck Yard. With Tigre in tow.

Those are the days I look back on and remember how very much he lived during his time on earth. Those are the days I hope bring a smile to each of my kids when they are sad. And that is the Fred I remember with a heavy heart on the days I am sad. He was a good man. He gave me my family and for that I will forever be grateful.

If you have a favorite Fred memory I’d love to hear it today.

Blessings – Amy

Another Goodbye, A Closing, and A New Year

This one has been bouncing around in my brain the last few weeks and I’ve been trying to sort through so many emotions. Figure I’ll sort it out here like I always do lol. The Irving house finally found its new owners. About a week ago another tumor took our sweet Paris. And inexplicably a new year is upon us.

We signed the papers on the Irving house four years to the day of when I unpacked the last box, hung the last picture, and posted the before and after video of the renovation from moving into Turtle Summit. Funny sometimes how God’s timing works. I’ve been trying to put my mind around the emotions there, cause there are some, but can’t quite get there. When I reflect back on who I was then…man.

Four years ago I was so angry. So tired. So overwhelmed. So afraid. If I dared to crack open one of my prayer journals I can almost promise you those prayers read something like “give me my life back” or “rewind the clock”. My children were leaving home, my husband was gone, and I had absolutely no idea who I was. And quite frankly I was crazy. Out of my mind flipping crazy. I look back on that person and wonder where she came from and thank God every day that he put the right tools and people in my path to get me through.

As I look around today? My list of blessings is as overwhelming as that list of pain and sorrow was. A home I never could have dreamed this small town girl would ever have. A man I adore who loves me beyond measure. A job that challenges me and pushes me to keep growing even when I’d like a minute to breathe.

Last weekend we said goodbye to another of our fur babies. She was older but we weren’t ready. She had a tumor in her ear that they couldn’t promise us wasn’t in her brain. She was in pain and not herself. We kept the promise we made each other not to prolong our babies lives for our own inability to say goodbye. But less than three months after losing Hope it just made the grief hole rip open again. The energy in the house has shifted again and the three remaining girls are tying to find a new rhythm. They are very clingy to us and hate when we leave the house.

Tim and I’s word for 2025 is “intentional”. So often we find ourselves at the end of a week, month, or year having just responded to all that came at us instead of acting intentionally towards our goals. We want to work on the goals we have set and live life on our terms. I think some of that is a result of seeing what we accomplished when we set our mind to it with the house. Not sure. We just know that as we heal from some of what 2024 took from us and embrace some of what it gave us we have big plans.

I am waking up at night with my mind and my heart racing. Anxiety coursing through me that I can’t identify. I thought it was the house. But with that settled not sure what it is. Work is out of control busy so maybe it’s that. But I know that if I turn it over to God and just lift it in prayer it’ll resolve itself in time. Just takes the one thing hardest for me – faith.

What are you reflecting on in as we close out 2024?

—Amy

Reflections on a Holiday Season

Another Christmas Eve is here. As I sit and reflect on how this year’s holiday season has gone I realize progress was made this year. For the first time in years Christmas wasn’t something just to be survived and gotten through!

I’ve spent numerous of the years past turning myself inside out trying to survive the holidays. That or exhausting myself alternating between trying to avoid them wishing away pain and memories or trying to make them perfect. Somehow this year in just letting go it was actually a very enjoyable season.

Did I get Christmas cards out this year? Nope. Get everything on the list of things I wanted to get for people I love? Not even close. Did I find a new favorite Christmas album that I wore out every commute back and forth to work for a month? Yep. (Thank you Cher.) Bake cookies and treats until I was exhausted but happy? Yep.

Tomorrow we are shucking the traditional Christmas menu and replacing it with tamales (brought in through contacts at work) and easy sides. No 5 am turkey shenanigans for me. Short of jumping on a ship I don’t remember another year we’ve dropped traditional Christmas dinner. What’s more? Everyone is pretty darn excited about it!

2024 was a year of huge changes. If you had asked me at this time last year if I’d be living anywhere other than Irving where I’d spent the last 20 years I’d have told you that you were smoking something. But if this year has taught me anything it’s that unlike what life has shown me the last decade or so change can also be good. So I guess it shouldn’t really surprise me that Christmas this year would be different! 🎄

Merry Christmas y’all!

Amy

Put Your Life In Boxes

Wanna know where you fall in the pack rat/hoarder scale in life? Pack your house. Clean out every nook. Every cranny. Attic. Shed. Garage. Put it in boxes. You’ll find that “I should hang onto this for _____” thing that we all do? Goes away real fast. Pretty sure my trash man hates me. Also pretty sure my kids are tired of the text “do you want this”. I’ve lost count of the number of trash bags, boxes, rolls of tape, markers, lists, copies of floor plans, ideas, room shuffles, crying sessions, sleepless nights, etc etc etc. Moving ain’t for the faint of heart.

But on the flip side? When you get just about to the finish line. When your list of things to go through shrinks down to just a couple of things left the sense of peace that starts to come allows air in places inside you that haven’t seen light in a long time. Yesterday we finally got the attic emptied. I slept seven hours in a row last night. Seven hard almost dreamless hours. The two are definitely connected. From the attic I opened boxes with memories that made me smile, some that made me want to weep, and some that just reminded me of treasured times in my life. Pulled out items that made my daughter laugh and some that reminded me of just how small she used to be.

What they don’t tell us when we are in our 20’s and 30’s is that there will come a time in our life when the kids will move on and all we will have left of them is those tiny shirts and treasured pictures. For the generations coming behind us less and less of those printed pictures because so much is digital (which after cleaning out an attic recently might not be entirely a bad thing). My counselor tells me all the time the memories aren’t in the “stuff” but man there were memories that came to the surface last night that I couldn’t have willingly recalled without sticking my nose in a shirt collar or thumbing through an album. There has to be a balance somewhere between having hundreds of boxes and expecting our tired aging brains to recall it all. Don’t you think?

Early in Tim and I’s relationship we just sort of accepted that we wouldn’t move for at least a decade. I remember phrases like “too much work with 6 dogs” and “too many people need us here”. We laid there last night and talked about where we are in this journey. The excitement we both feel each time we walk in the new house. The very foreign concept for me of doing this thing that is for us first and everyone else second. The fact that I haven’t lived outside of Irving in over 20 years. The negative emotions have been forefront for several weeks keeping me from really enjoying this process. When I say I married the greatest man ever I ain’t joking. The way he has put up with the roller coaster I have been on and still just loved me through it? No words. If anything we’ve grown stronger in who we are together. Pretty heady stuff.

I realize now that while I thought Turtle Summit was the peak of my mountain (and why I named it Summit) it was only the mid-line. God never intends us to stop growing. We’re almost through the hardest part of the work and I’m freaking excited. I’ve got a blank slate of a house to make my own. My dogs will have a yard they can run and play in. I’ll be part of watching a neighborhood fill in around me. I’ll be pushed outside of my box and my routine and have to learn new things. I won’t be able to run on autopilot for the last half of my life. I’m just not done living. Why I thought I was I have no idea.

So pack your life up. Even if it’s one closet at a time. Purge. Organize. There is an intangible that comes with that that kick-starts your soul and reminds you there is more to life than the day to day of surviving. God intends us to do more than just survive. I just need to have that tattooed on my damn forehead some days apparently.

Blessings ya’ll – Amy

Bride Tribe Time!

There was a time in my life when I didn’t know what a “tribe” was. I didn’t know that you were supposed to have people in your life that were not related to you that you could call on, day or night, and they would be there no questions asked. I had a friend or two, sure, but nothing compared to what I have now. Last Saturday seven ladies comprised of my amazing girls Amy & Em, my niece Heather, my Bev, and my girls Becky, Jenn, and Amanda gathered to celebrate love, friendship, and WINE.

My requests for the day were visiting vineyards and minimal typical bachelorette type shenanigans. Also to not have to deal with a hangover all day Sunday – wine hangovers as I get older are rough. Though Em couldn’t resist the impulse to add a pretty pink plastic blow up ummm male part to the car ride the rest of the day was shenanigan free.

We started the day in Athens at the Triple N Winery. I can’t wait to go back and see that land not in summer fried mode. Just the winery itself was beautiful but the land around it I am sure is gorgeous in fall colors or spring flush. We were the first ones there and the gentleman that helped us had been with them for some time. (I’m terrible with names these days!) They had probably one of the top 5 Tempranillo wines I’ve ever had and a bubbly made of my two favorite reds – Montepulciano and Tempranillo – that I actually liked. I don’t usually like bubbly.

The best part of the far out wineries was the drive time it gave us to visit and also to dry out if you will between tastings. (I came home at the end of the day sober!) Our second stop was Rossini in Rockwall. Overall I don’t remember a wine that stood out there but they had a gluten free cheeseburger flatbread that I could eat everyday it was so good. Ames caught up with us there – she had had to work that morning and missed the first stop – so we were a full group that the wine maker himself took care of.

Last stop we did wind up in Grapevine but it’s a group favorite – Bingham Winery. They have a 2021 Voigner (white) that I am currently obsessed with. This particular batch the press broke while the grapes were in it so there was longer contact with the skin which makes it finish different than most Voigner wines. I didn’t even bother with the tasting there…went straight for a bottle. 😉 More than half of it went home with me but when you know what you like you know! By this point everyone knew everyone and I think it was the stop we were all the most relaxed. But I guess it stands to reason that since it was the last stop all the wine had relaxed us all too!

All of us at Bingham (Em is behind the camera)

We hadn’t planned dinner but in a tea run for Em (she isn’t a wine drinker) Heather found an adorable place across the street from the winery that had tons of gluten free options for Amanda and I. It was nice to finish the day with conversation and a full belly. The food was also incredible and got added to the list of date night places for Tim and I to try.

Ames & I at Bingham – love those smiles!

I had gone into the day a little apprehensive. I hate being the center of attention and I had been told multiple times the day was for me (side note I’m equally apprehensive about the wedding for the same reason). I wanted everyone to get along and have a good time. But as usual I was worried for nothing. I laughed until I hurt, found out some first impressions of Tim that made my heart full, and spent a full day with people who I adore. It was amazing.

Thank you girls for a wonderful day. I love you all. – A

12 Years Later….

I’m very nostalgic these days, and I know that’s normal with all the change that is going on in my life, but today’s trip down memory lane is triggered by the calendar. 12 years ago today I started at TLC. When I texted my bosses this weekend to share my engagement news all I could think was how many life events I’ve walked through while seeking refuge inside these four walls. How the person that they see day in and day out has changed in the last twelve years. Hell, I don’t even have a picture of myself on my phone that goes back that far….

Twelve years ago Fred and I walked through these doors together. I had been interviewing to make a change from the small struggling landscape company I was working for because I was tired of chasing payroll each week. One of the interviews I had gone on was good friends with our owner here. I got a call and being the “we’re a package deal” person I was I asked if they needed a garden manager too. Turns out they did. When we started in July 2011 TLC was operating out of a house with several buildings attached and a huge yard. I fell in love with the yard dog named Tigre and discovered I was very much a dog person (sorry kitties!). Now I have six dogs!

It would be not long after that that Lee moved in with us and we were bursting at the seams in the townhouse. October 2012 TLC moved into the office where we are now – the same weekend we moved into our first house! Where I promptly came down with bronchitis from the stress and an untreated sinus infection.

We lost PawPaw in May of 2014. TLC never missed a beat in their unwavering support. It was the first really significant loss for me in my life and while I stuffed it (or thought I did) I know now it changed me. It changed how I interacted with my family so I know it changed how I dealt with everyone. Sometime in that same year we started dialysis on Fred. Not gonna lie I was in so much pain the dates get really fuzzy. TLC was completely supportive of my completely unstable schedule and I worked from the dialysis clinic, early mornings, weekends, late nights – work was my escape when I could get it from everything as I knew it changing at home.

February-ish 2015 Fred became unable to keep working. He wasn’t safe behind the wheel and his eyes were shot. Yet again TLC was the one constant. I was the provider of the house and work was my safe place. Through dialysis, Fred’s amputation and rehab, all of it – all I got was support from almost everyone.

I’ll never forget the call I got from the owner the day I had to say guys it’s almost time for Fred to go and I need to be here. “Whatever you need – we’re here”. So much is fuzzy from that time and the years after. But I remember that. Work had been my escape but I was able to turn it off and be right where I needed to be at the end. That’s something there aren’t enough words to be thankful for.

Somewhere in all those years we got three kids through high school, graduated, and two of them through college/trade school, and married off!

COVID years, the bottoming out I did in 2020 where most people don’t know just how low I got, and the recovery period of the last few years….still they were here. Even the days I said “I don’t wanna do this anymore…” my boss walked me through it when I know he really probably just wanted to strangle me. He had no experience with depression, and anxiety, and all the things that plague me but steady as a rock he’s been.

Sometimes we have to look back to be able to know how far we’ve come and see all the lows and highs to appreciate it. To know that it’s normal to have days you want to run away from home because home will always be there. It’s a constant. It’s where your heart is – when it’s hurting, when it’s broken, and when it’s so filled with joy you are going to burst.

12 years later I’m thankful that no matter how far my wanderlust takes me I’ll always have a home to return to.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Rooted in Blessings

Most of my world right now revolves around “green stuff” as Tim calls it. (For those of you who follow me on Insta or FB sorry about the garden overload!) But when I was watching a show I follow on Discovery + called ‘Growing Floret’ the other night it finally clicked as to why, after 23 years in the landscape business, this is the year I’m so passionate about it.

After Fred passed the flight reflex I’ve always had got worse. Way worse. I wanted to be anywhere but home. My mind was filled of thoughts of getting out of Texas, anywhere but here, I didn’t care. Never really realizing that I was running from what was inside. And that no matter how many miles I put between home and those that loved me I wouldn’t be able to ever escape until I stopped and healed.

Cue up today. I’ve always had a green thumb. I will proudly say I got that from my grandfather. But in years past my gardening was to pay homage to him. To be close to Fred. It wasn’t about me. It was about pleasing them, honoring them, missing them. What I have finally realized is different about this year is that the fear is gone. Fear of “doing it wrong”. Fear of disappointing them. Fear of anyone’s judgement if it doesn’t yield, look right, blah blah blah. Something about the changes in me in the last two years have allowed me to do this for ME this year. And to be ok with it being for me. I still look at all my magazines. Watch the green shows until Tim, I’m sure, wants to throw the remote and I soak up TikToks and YouTubes like a sponge. But if it dies? Doesn’t yield like I want? Pull it up and start again. (There is a life metaphor in there somewhere I’m sure.)

This spring in my business hasn’t been any different. In fact it’s been 100x worse. My anxiety, when I focus on it, is off the charts. Panic attacks are a new thing I’m not really fond of. I’m going through huge changes at work. The pressure is intense. But a not so little difference this year? I pull up to the stop sign at the corner each day and my body lets out a breath. I sit at that stop sign for a fraction longer than I have to and I take in my yard. It’s not pride I feel. It’s peace. I’m home. More importantly? I WANT to be home.

As I walk towards my “shades of Caribbean” painted gate along the brick path that I saw in my magazines and Tim made a reality the fear, stress, and worry of the day seeps out of me. The gladiolus are starting to reward me with gorgeous blooms that make me smile. Once I get inside the gate I have to force myself to go inside and say hello to Tim and the dogs before I race back outside to see what changed in the last 24 hours in the garden. (And yah somedays I forget to say hello to them!).

I grab my “f*&% it bucket” as I call it – which houses a skirt with all my tools on it and a wide open space for all the weeds I’ll pull and cuttings I’ll take off if need be – and I head outside. I usually have about 45 minutes after I get home while Tim is still working that I get to be outside in the garden and unwind. Tim worries constantly that I’ve bitten off too much, that it’s too much work, and what I can’t quite make him understand is that it’s a form of medicine that if they ever figured out how to bottle would put the pharmaceutical companies out of business.

Despite having harvested about 10 lbs of squash at this point I squeal like a teenager at each new little “baby” that emerges. I check the cukes and wait impatiently for enough to be ready to start canning. I hover over my tomatoes like a mother bird – so afraid the squirrel is gonna take them again this year. I pore over seed catalogs and sites looking for something new and different I can try my hand at growing.

And I now I realize. Despite my teasing Tim about his travels this summer – I am content to know I’m gonna be home in my garden. I’ve waited a long time to feel some sense of home and hearth again. To be able to open my heart to love and to be loved again. All of those things are the reasons my home and my heart are thriving. Like my beautiful plants God nurtured me through the tough times, watered and fertilized me when I was withering, and now my roots are strong again. I trusted him when I was broken and dying and unable to see the sun and he nurtured me the same way I do any of my plants.

Colossians 2:7 – Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.

I’m thankful. So very thankful. Blessings y’all – Amy

A Year of Gluten Free

I have been tested for Celiac twice – tested negative both times. I have done three, maybe four, Whole30s and each time feel like I won the lottery in terms of energy, clarity of mind, and sleep improvements. For those that don’t know a Whole30 is 30 days without wheat, dairy, processed food (anything you can’t pronounce), beans, or alcohol. Each time I found my way back to bread, pasta, and flour. When my stomach issues spiraled out of control late 2020, and didn’t get better after removing my gallbladder end of the same year and all through 2021, I knew I had to get radical.

End of 2021 I was down 90 lbs and getting 2-3 meals a week to stick with me was a win. Tim came into my life and he’s a big fan of eating! LOL. Forcing more food into me was just making it worse. Fast forward to spring of 2022. We came back from a cruise and I felt horrible. Docs had run tests, nothing showed up as far as a medical cause, stress seemed to be the only consistent trigger we could really pinpoint. I knew from my Whole30 history that bread and dairy were triggers for me. Giving up cheese meant giving up Mexican food (and that wasn’t happening!) so gluten drew the short straw.

I would say it was late spring/early summer before we really started to notice any change in how my body was handling food. But slowly I started to both stop losing weight and started putting some back on. Everyone around me was thrilled at the putting back on part, me not as much, but I also knew I needed a little. Late May, early June, I was in Lubbock and did a wine tasting with my niece. They put out those little oyster crackers at our last tasting and I ate them without even thinking about it. Yes, I may have had a few too many tastings that day! I can’t begin to describe to you the stomachache I had that night. I’m not sure I’ve ever had one that bad. I knew in that moment that I was definitely on the right path.

Staying gluten free, once you get used to it, hasn’t been as hard as it is in the initial 30-90 days. I try to always use the phrase “gluten sensitive” at restaurants as opposed to allergic since the allergy word sends people into meltdown mode. I have been on three cruises in the last year. Two of them they were awesome at accommodating – one was a new ship and they were struggling. On my last cruise we have some question that everything I got was in fact gluten free because I was sick as a dog by the time I got off. We’ve been able to tell pretty quickly these days when I’ve gotten a hold of something I can’t eat vs when I’m having a stress flare up. Exposure takes days for my stomach to settle down and stress is usually quick as long as I’m not under prolonged stress.

Don’t get me wrong. I miss real pasta. There are some really good substitutes but you can still tell the difference. I miss flour tortillas. I miss cookies fresh out of the oven. But the longer I am gluten free the better my stomach is getting, and the longer periods between angry outbursts from my body, the more I know I need to stick with this. Plus most Mexican food is gluten free. 😉

There are a ton of articles about how our bodies just aren’t made to process the food we are being given these days in our mass produced food world. Some of us are just blessed with the sensitive stomachs to support those theories I guess.

If you had to give up one food group what would be the easiest? The hardest?

Blessings y’all! – Amy