There’s a kind of love in our home that barks, chirps, and cheeps—and we wouldn’t have it any other way. Our pets aren’t just animals; they are family, full of personality and joy.
Cooper (or “Coopy,” as we lovingly call him) is our loyal little ball of fluff. Every day, without fail, he parks himself by the door, waiting for Doug to walk in. And if he’s feeling a little impatient? He’ll stare at a toy—or at us—with the kind of silent desperation that only says one thing: Please throw the ball. Please. He’s got us all wrapped around his paw, and he knows it.
And now, our home has been blessed with a new kind of song—CHEEPS! Sweet little Ollie, our new cockatiel, has settled in beautifully. His chirps echo through the halls as he patiently waits for his favorite girl, Tatum, to get home. He’s soft, curious, and oh-so-lovey. Tatum even asked me to draw him, and of course, I said yes. His little spirit just had to be captured.
We have so many precious photos and memories of our beloved Rio too. He’ll always have a special place in our hearts. His legacy of love lives on in the way we welcome and care for each new creature that enters our lives.
Our home is fuller, louder, and better because of our pets. They teach us loyalty, patience, joy—and unconditional love.
To Cooper, Ollie, and Rio—thank you for making our lives richer. We love you more than words (or cheeps, or barks!) could ever say.
Today didn’t go exactly how I had planned. I had hoped to go all out for Doug—our steady, faithful, selfless rock. But unfortunately, my body had other plans. I was feeling under the weather and couldn’t do even a fraction of what I’d envisioned to show him how much he’s loved and appreciated.
But God has a sweet way of reminding us that love doesn’t always need to be loud.
Tatum, with her kind and generous heart, stepped up in the most beautiful way. She worked so hard on a special video just for her dad. Every clip, every word—pure love. She even used her own money to buy him gifts he had mentioned in passing—ones he’d been hoping for. Watching her honor him with such intentionality filled my heart more than any elaborate plan could have.
I did manage to make some yummy food, but in my mind, it was just a small gesture compared to all that he means to us. Doug is the one who quietly holds us together. He’s the calm in our storms, the strength when we feel weak, the laugh when we need one most. He leads with humility, loves with consistency, and gives with a heart that never asks for anything in return.
Tatum and I are so incredibly grateful for him. Even on the quiet, imperfect days like today—especially on those days—we are reminded just how blessed we are to call him ours.
Happy Father’s Day to our rock. We love you endlessly.
June 13 will stay with me—not because it started beautifully, but because it ended that way.
The morning was brutal. I woke up foggy and unrested, buried in gas pain and that all-too-familiar abdominal pressure that makes me curl up and cry. My Oura Ring said “ready,” but my body said “absolutely not.” I was tired—of symptoms, of guessing, of feeling like my own body was a riddle I couldn’t solve.
And then came my appointment with Dr. Ruiz.
For the first time in weeks, I felt understood. He affirmed what I’ve been sensing: this isn’t just about mold. It’s about heavy metals—those deeper, more disruptive toxins silently short-circuiting my mitochondria, hijacking my clarity, and draining my strength. Mold may have opened the door, but metals are what’s keeping me stuck. (who the heck knows HOW I got them..but I got them!)
He told me plainly: “Steph, we can’t detox what your body doesn’t have the fuel to release.”
So, we’re pressing pause on aggressive detox. The focus now? Food. Real food. Caloric support. Protein, carbs, and fat in healing proportions. We’re building my body up so that when we do chelate, it won’t collapse—it will conquer.
The New Marching Orders:
STOP ALL SUPPS!! The more I take THE WORSE I FEEL!! IT was the sole reason I was feeling so much worse. (so ironic when you need certain aids)
Three full meals daily — no snacks, just nourishment
Ignore food restrictions unless my body clearly says “no”
Add Elemental Diet (1 scoop/day)
Wait on detox pushers — chelation will come after weight restoration
That clarity? It brought peace. Real, physical peace. By evening, the gas was gone. No regurgitation. No flare. Just… calm. For the first time in a long time, I ate all three meals and felt like my body received it.
This is not a detour. It’s a wiser road.
Because sometimes healing means less pushing and more trusting. It means feeding the body so it has what it needs to do the work God designed it to do. And it means finally understanding that detox isn’t the beginning—restoration is.
So here’s to rebuilding. Slowly. Deeply. From the inside out.
I am healing with food. And the best is yet to come. Thank you, Honey, for walking this road with me. Thank you, Jesus, for NEVER leaving my side.
“He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” — Psalm 23:3
Summer is officially here—and I can feel it in my bones. The sun is blazing, the pool is finally warm enough to swim in, and the soundtrack of the season is echoing from our HomePod. Today, it’s “Lord I Need You Now More Than Ever” by Forest Frank. Tatum dances with abandon, twirling and flipping on her gymnastics pad with that signature sparkle in her eye. She’s free, she’s creative, and she’s completely in her element.
This week felt long but so full. Tatum spent every day at VBS, shadowing and supporting her new buddy, Victoria—a bright and brave 3rd grader with special needs. And wow, what a beautiful match it turned out to be. Victoria lovedTatum. They laughed, played, learned, and grew together. It was more than just helping—it was mutual transformation.
Tatum learned patience. She learned how to slow down and love someone right where they are. She learned kindness in action—not just in theory. And Victoria? She lit up around Tatum. That sweet connection was something I’ll never forget. These are the moments that shape a heart.
She made her this sweet PIC!
And now…we celebrate. The pool is calling, and summer in Arizona is in full swing. There’s nothing like it—sun, water, music, and memories in the making.
I LOVE SUMMER here in AZ.
Here’s to more dance parties, more cannonballs, more slow mornings and late sunsets. Here’s to healing, joy, and the freedom to just be.
Next week, Tatum will be shadowing a sweet girl with special needs at Vacation Bible School at Scottsdale Bible Church. For privacy, we won’t be sharing her name or story here—but she’s someone who already holds a special place in our hearts. Tatum has always had a natural bent toward children with special needs. It’s not just patience—it’s presence. She sees the person behind the diagnosis. She listens. She adapts. She cares deeply. (like with her feathered loves)
This opportunity feels like such a divine alignment—where her gifts and compassion can shine freely. I have no doubt she will leave a lasting imprint on the week, and that this sweet girl will do the same for her.
Tatum has also been keeping up with her writing, pouring her heart and imagination into pages that reflect courage, honesty, and empathy. Below is her most recent story—raw, emotional, and full of layered insight for someone her age..
SHORT STORY By Tatum
My mother had been disowned after she got pregnant with my brother at 17. Her boyfriend left her, and her life crumbled. My brother had been diagnosed with autism at 1, and she couldn’t take care of him. As she was walking to the orphanage, my brother pulling her hair, she was stopped by a man her age. They fell in love. He engaged a year later, and they got married.
That’s when I was born. My brother was 8 and running around the hospital room as my mom screamed. Let’s just say I have a big head. So after 30 minutes of me slowly coming out, my mom finally got a break.
Fast forward to when I was 4. My mother was dealing with a broken heart because my dad didn’t want me. So he left with my brother because I’m a girl who has one arm missing.
Fast forward to when I turned 16. My mom had told me the entire story, and somehow, some way, I was pregnant at 16. But she didn’t leave me. She was with me. She held my hand during my ultrasound. She rubbed my back while I had morning sickness. She bought clothes for my baby. She held my hand as I screamed. She held my new baby.
6 years later:
I slowly step down the stairs. The big bright clock flashes the numbers 5:00 a.m. Why does Lily’s school have to start at 7? The first sign of light finally fills through as I spread butter on two slabs of bread. More light streams in as I pack her lunch—juice box, sandwich, cookie. More light comes in as I make her baby brother’s bottle.
6:40. I run upstairs and open my door. My husband lays fast asleep, our 2-year-old son snuggling with him. I throw on jeans and a random shirt. My tangled hair frizzes up as I tug my brush through it.
6:50. I swing Lily’s door open. She sits on the ground dressed in a tank top and overalls. I pull her hair into pigtails and tie them.
7:00. I buckle the seatbelt. 7:20. I pull into school. Lily hops out and runs inside. 7:25. I close the classroom door. A young woman walks over. “You’re 25 minutes late.” I look down. “I’m so sorry. I slept late.” 8:09. A tired version of me slams the front door and walks inside. My husband walks over.
WOW! This story stopped me in my tracks. It’s fiction, but fiction born out of deep emotional understanding. Somehow, she grasped generational struggle, motherly devotion, identity, disability, and perseverance… all in just a few pages. It reminds me that kids don’t need to be told how to feel deeply….they just need space to express it.
As summer begins and we step into this next chapter: VBS, writing, slow mornings, healing afternoons. I’m clinging to hope. Hope that rest and rhythm will find us. Hope that Tatum’s heart continues to lead her to people who need it. Hope that this will be a season of gentleness, growth, and maybe, in the quiet spaces, a little more healing than we expected.
Love you all. Thanks for walking with us through every chapter.
I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I eat clean, exercise, and live with intention — depending on and trusting in Jesus every step of the way. I homeschool my daughter, work hard as a professor at GCU, love on my husband (as best I can — I could do much better), workout daily, breathe clean air, BLAH BLAH…and invest deeply in my health.
So why, after doing everything “right,” did I end up battling deep, debilitating fatigue… …leg weakness and pain, …nausea, …gut pain, …and neurological crashes that leave me unable to function?
The answer wasn’t obvious. It wasn’t a diagnosis I could point to. There was no “black mold” disaster. No dramatic exposure. No moment I could rewind and say this is where it all changed.
There was just a faint memory — A smelly house I lived in years ago. A flood in my condo. A musty classroom I taught in. A “maybe.”
And yet… here I am. Holding a lab report that shows high levels of aflatoxins, fumonisins, heavy metals like arsenic and thallium, flame retardants, VOCs, and more. Not just trace amounts. These toxins have been growing in my body for years. Quietly. Relentlessly.
There were more in the yellow, but these are quite scary and apparently cancer causing.
A Silent Health Crisis
What I’ve come to understand is that this is a slow poisoning. Most people’s bodies are built to buffer it. Mine isn’t. I likely had genetic vulnerabilities in detox and immune regulation, meaning the toxins didn’t leave — they stored. And over time, they created a storm that no one could see coming.
Worse, no one believed it for a long time. I was told: • “Your labs are normal.” • “Try antidepressants.” • “You’re anxious.” • “Just eat more.”
But I wasn’t anxious. I was toxic.
And had I not kept searching — had I not trusted my body’s voice over the dismissals — I might never have uncovered this.
This Wasn’t Just About Feeling Sick — It Was About Preventing What Comes Next
The toxins in my body don’t just cause fatigue or cramps. They’re linked to: • Liver cancer (aflatoxin B1) • Kidney degeneration (citrinin, ochratoxin) • Autoimmunity and immune suppression (fumonisins) • Endocrine disruption and DNA damage (styrene, perchlorate, arsenic)
Had this gone untreated for another decade, the outcome could have been far more devastating — not just functional decline, but irreversible disease.
So yes, I’m tired. Yes, I have to be careful with food, supplements, and even sunlight some days. But I may also be avoiding cancer, avoiding kidney failure, avoiding tragedy.
What I Wish I Knew Sooner
I remember from 2018 to 2021 — the bloating, the gas, the cramping, the abdominal pain. The food eliminations. The shrinking diet. The hopelessness.
I went from doctor to doctor, searching for answers. My primary care doctor offered conventional meds. My naturopath put me on rounds of herbal antibiotics and “gut protocols.” Each protocol came with hope. And each one ended in disappointment. I’d find a new and improved doctor, only to be handed another theory, another supplement, another “next step.”
In 2023, I started with Dr. Patel. That journey led to MORE weight loss (not needed!), but it also brought a storm of problems: low hormones, low thyroid, nutrient depletion. We chased symptoms. My gut continued to deteriorate.
And guess what? That keeps the doctor in business. We worked on symptoms. More money, more tests, more protocols — while the root cause sat silently beneath it all.
Then came Dr. Katz — another specialist, another wave of tests. Eventually, I was diagnosed with EoE (eosinophilic esophagitis). It felt like a moment of clarity… but even that was just another chapter in the story of chasing symptoms, not sources.
And now here I am. Finding out that maybe — just maybe — had someone tested for the toxic burden back then… Had someone looked beyond the gut protocols and hormone panels… Had someone asked the harder questions…
Maybe it wouldn’t have become this monster. Maybe I wouldn’t be waking up some days barely able to function, walk, or eat.
If You’re Reading This…
I share this not for pity, but to help someone else wake up sooner.
If you have a mysterious illness… If your symptoms come and go without reason… If you’ve been told “it’s all in your head”… Please know: there may be toxins in your system that your doctor isn’t testing for.
And please know this:
Healing is possible. It’s slow. It’s nonlinear. It will shake you. But it is possible.
Every layer you peel back… every test, every realization… It brings you closer to truth. And truth sets the body free.
This is my war. But it just might be someone else’s rescue story.
Tatum wanted to move back into her old room. As you know, we cleaned out her closet (HAPPYSAD) and got rid of so many of her old toys. We did keep a lot for her kids…and MOSTLY BOOKS!! But, she really wanted her big old room back and I don’t blame her!
I had her clean out her drawers too. IT FEELS SO GOOD to get rid of stuff! What is that about!?
And Doug disassembled and reassembled and disassembled again… So much work and so appreciated!
Tatum asked to have my artwork back on her walls. (wince..so grateful that she wants it!)
And …..OOOOOOH! SO PERTY!
SO HOMEY!
We have: READ, LEARN, CREATE, EXPLORE, PLAY, IMAGINE, SHINE and BELIEVE along the rim of the wall. SO COOL> Coopy loves it too.
