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Super Bowl Sunday, According to Tatum

Super Bowl Sunday started quietly in our house. 
Tatum and my honey headed off to church, and I was unfortunately under the weather. So  my mission was to snap photos to send to Tot.

Happiness.

When she came home, in her hands: a football. Apparently, she and Dad had made a pit stop, and just like that…the game was starting. She was ready. Or almost ready.

Then I got the question: Do you have a white T-shirt I can have? Now… we have a serious shortage of white shirts in this house. After unsuccessfully finding this out, she found a long-sleeved shirt of her own and went to work. Scissors. Markers. (Sharpies are not forgiving). She’s going to make a jersey come he_l or high water!

She was ALL Seahawks (though she did accidentally call them the Seagulls, which I will never let her forget). Seahawks vs. Patriots. She is ready.

But here’s the thing about Tatum: waiting is never just waiting.

As kickoff approached, the gears in her brain started turning.
“What else can I MAKE?”

Next thing I know, she’s asking, do we have any cans!? Ok, now what. OH, and a GLUE GUN?
I didn’t ask questions.

She pulled together 8 cans and VOILA! Yes, folks. It’s a gun.

Where is my girl? Football? A gun? What is next? Naturally, it had to be displayed…right on her wall. Alongside an impressive collection of Pokémon cards and mini cars. Honestly, her creative brain never stops. Ever. It’s like living with a tiny inventor/artist/engineer who occasionally watches football.

And while the game played, she casually worked on a drawing of a Digital Circus character. Multitasking at its finest.

With a little eye art, the day turned lively in the best way.

Two shockers sealed the deal: The Seahawks absolutely killed it with four field goals………

And …….

Kid Rock shared the Gospel at halftime.

    Mic. Drop.

    Super Bowl Sunday wasn’t loud or wild or crowded, but it was creative and very TATUM. I would not trade it for any party in the world.

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    Our feathered FRIENDS!

    Ollie. Just so calm. Cool. Collected. He’s that in our home

    Rio? He’s our lightning rod. He’s ADHD x 50. Never stops. Constantly moving and playing. He is not one to ride on your shoulder because he gets too bored. He’ll bite you or he’ll just fly down and chase Cooper.

    Or he’ll fly on your head.

    But if Bluebell enters the picture, he becomes smitten.

    Oh the love….We love them, and makes us all so grateful.

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    What actually happened to my body: The truth and the ugly

    I am learning so much lately. It’s a constant reminder of what I have done to my body with full awareness (not eating enough but I thought I was) and then what I did because I couldn’t tolerate much food (because my gut became so dysregulated). Now, I have to heal but the process is extremely debilitating and humbling.

    Part 1: For years, my body was living in a state of quiet emergency. NOW this wasn’t starvation or collapse. It was just not enough fuel + constant gut stress, day after day after day.

    To survive, my gut became an alarm system: Pain, pressure, gas, unpredictability. Apparently, my brain learned: digestion = threat. So every time food moved through my gut, my nervous system paid attention; it adapted by turning the volume knob up.

    SO….when a body doesn’t have enough energy for a long time, it protects itself by becoming hyper-sensitive. What does that mean?

    • Signals that should feel mild feel intense
    • Normal sensations get interpreted as “too much”
    • The body reacts early, not late

    IT ADAPTED, and  my legs and body became part of the warning system. It started to use pain and nerve signals to “signal” trouble. SHUTDOWN> That looks like: burning legs, heavy. limbs, tranquilized feeling, not able to keep eyes open, body fading. (We thought it was low blood sugar or thyroid or hormones…etc). BUT it was my nervous system saying:

    “We don’t have the reserves for this. Slow everything down.”

    IT FEELS LIKE YOUR IN HE_L.

    But the frustrating part? It’s like a see-saw. One day I feel functional; the next COMPLETE OPPOSITE> But, if my nerves were damaged, symptoms would be constant, worsen, and never disappear. Mine fluctuate (gut dependent usually) Like if my gut is overly active, gassy, distended: my day is completely shot. I hear, however, nerves are plastic. They can get back to normal. Mine are just overreactive.

    Part 2: My symptoms feel WORSE during healing. This is the hard part; it is the cruel part no one warns people about. I am finally eating enough, gaining weight, and reducing my gut issues (By detoxing off all supplements and meds); my nervous system doesn’t instantly relax. Apparently, it says:

    “Wait… is this safe? Are we really okay now?”

    So it flares on and off while it relearns safety. Symptoms resurface during refeeding/recovery; they feel intense and make me doubt EVERYTHING. It’s called recalibration. (not relapse) HA!

    Part 3: Enter: Nortriptyline LOW DOSE (10mg)…I started at 3 and have ramped up slowly. This TCA (usually at high doses is used for depression but in low doses used for gut-brain axis issues) What it is supposed to do is turn the volume knob down on overreactive nerves. But it doesn’t work OVERNIGHT. (sad). It helps my nervous system stop yelling when it doesn’t need to.

    SO what I’m praying for is by weeks 4-6 my flares are less intense, recovery is faster. I have about 2-3 days per week where I feel like a human being. The others, well, not so hot. I have to put on my happy face and just make it through somehow. By March or early April, these patterns hopefully will stop dominating my life

    Part 4: I have consciously made the choice to eat 1800 calories EVERY SINGLE DAY no matter what (starting Dec. 11, 2025). It has been 9 weeks. This is important because my brain keeps asking “is this enough?” I have resorted some energy availability; allowed my nerves to START  calming, and I’m giving my system a chance to heal. SLOWLY (and it’s VERY uncomfortable). I do not have ANY hunger signals. In fact, food sounds terrible, but I eat anyway. ON FAITH. After I finish, I wear a warm compress as to allow my stomach to not flare up.

    What still needs to happen? Retraining my nervous system to fully trust consistency; rebuilding tolerance to normal digestion; and fully stabilizing autonomic responses. THAT TAKES TIME at stability NOT force. (I CANNOT WILL IT). This is why without the STEADFASTNESS of GOD and his powerful presence in my life, in my HUMANNESS, I would have given up.

    I am teaching my body: I AM SAFE.

    Part 5: What can I expect the next year to look like?
    Based on my patterns of symptoms that come and go, improvement in gut pain/stuckness, and ability to function on even hard days: I would hope that over the next 2-4 weeks: burning (shoulders, eyes, legs) is less intense; sedation doesn’t flatten me; bad days recover faster, and fewer “what the hell is happening” moments.

    Over the next 2–3 months: ( I PRAY)

    • symptoms stop dominating decisions
    • gym becomes consistent again
    • food feels less dangerous
    • I stop thinking about this all day

    Long-term: This isn’t ME, and it doesn’t define my life.

    My nervous system is UNLEARNING how to survive in years of stress. It’s an uneven, frustrating, emotionally taxing, and hopefully (NO, IT WILL BE) temporary state.

    I am in the recalibration phase: this is the hardest one mentally, but the one WILL END.

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    From Running to Hoops! Go Tatum in the STATE meet!

    Yesterday marked Tatum’s FINAL cross country meet, and not just any meet, but a statewide race with runners from all over. Just qualifying to be there was an honor in itself. There se us up front bending down ready to GO!

    She went into the race feeling a bit under the weather, but she showed up anyway.

    No excuses. No backing out. She laced up, took her place at the starting line, and powered through with grit and determination. That alone says everything about her character.

    This was Tatum’s very first year on a running team, and to make it all the way to a state-level meet is nothing short of amazing. Watching her grow, challenge herself, and push through discomfort has been one of the greatest joys as a mom.

    So incredibly proud of her heart, her perseverance, and her courage. This season wasn’t just about miles or times…it was about showing up, learning something new, and believing in herself. And she did all of that beautifully.

    For SPRING sports, instead of track, she’s going for Basketball. Dad was so kind to get our hoop up and running again, so she has been at it non stop. Stay tuned for more SPORTS updates!

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    The Teen Brain and Becoming a Different Kind of Mom

    Somewhere around thirteen, motherhood kind of changes. It seems like it has been coming slowly, and now suddenly, the way I need to show up for Tatum looks nothing like the way I did before.

    Her emotions are sky-high now…whether they’re joyful or devastating. Everything feels bigger and heavier. She feels things about ten times more intensely than I remember feeling them… BUT I do remember how HARD it was to be thirteen. But these are different times.

    What I’m learning is this: when she’s hurting, the pain often comes out sideways…..sometimes toward me, and sometimes toward her dad.

    In that moment, it can hurt, and it can make me want to correct, lecture, or discipline; especially when her behavior looks “less than desirable.”

    But here’s the thing I’m slowly learning (and failing at, and trying again): I need to listen. NOT FIX.

    Every single night, Tatum and I talk. And eventually (ALWAYS) it all comes out.
    The stories from her day honestly shock me. I forget how mean kids can be, and how subtle the cruelty, and the social dynamics can feel crazy. She’s just beginning to experience this world, and it’s heartbreaking to watch her have to go through it (but it’s necessary!)

    My role now isn’t to gasp in horror. (HA!! It’s want I sometimes do!) OR to say, “Well, if it were me…” OR even to jump in with wisdom I think will protect her. NOPE. I have learned that I CANNOT act shocked or give unsolicited advice or especially share what I would do.

    Instead, I have to sit in the discomfort and say things like:


    “How did that make you feel?” OR

    “Wow… that must have been really hard.” OR

    “What do you think you’ll do?

    I just LISTEN…if she wants my advice, she will ask for it.
    Most of the time, she just needs to get the words out and be heard. To know she’s safe sharing w/o judgment.

    Just yesterday, she went through a really painful situation with a boy at school. My heart broke for her. And the truth is, the way she handled it was thoughtful and mature. But before I knew the full story, her behavior at home triggered me, and my instinct was to punish first and understand later. BUT that would have been wrong. She asked me about 100 times for A HUG. She squeezed me so hard, and with that I KNEW her deepest wish.

    JUST LOVE ME and BE HERE. PRESENT.

    I’m realizing that parenting a teen is less about control and more about guidance.
    Less about teaching lessons and more about modeling kindness, grace, and boldness; even when emotions are high and everyone is imperfect.

    We’re both works in progress.
    YET somehow, we are growing TOGETHER.

    I love you, Tot. SO MUCH.

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    Grateful? Tatum, I love you

    We were on our way to the gym, and I was already weepy as we drove, and I apologized again.
    I told her how ironic it felt: going to the gym with my girl has always been my dream… and here we were, and I couldn’t even work out.

    Sunday…although going to church (a win!!), I was quite the mess…Gut stuck. Heavy lids. That sedated, foggy fatigue that makes you feel like you’re watching your own life from behind glass. I knew I couldn’t participate the way I wanted to, but I had made her a promise, and I was going to keep it. So while driving, I said,

    “I’m just… sorry, Tatum.”

    She looked at me like I’d spoken a foreign language.

    “For what?”

    I tried to explain without dumping it all on her (which I shouldn’t do, but I’m human). I told her I just wanted to participate more. That I felt like I was existing instead of being involved with her, with my husband, with people I love. The sadness surprised me with how big it was.

    And then my daughter said something I will carry forever.

    “Mommy, I’m grateful you got sick. First of all, it’s a blessing you weren’t like this when I was 0–6. That would have sucked. Now I’m really independent.
    And Mom, if you hadn’t gotten sick, we wouldn’t be this close. We’re closer than ever. You are my best friend.
    And I wouldn’t love school the way I do. I love learning. I love being there. I love getting strong. That came from watching you.
    And my birds…I wouldn’t even have them! I have so much compassion because I’ve seen so much for a kid.”

    HUUUUH!?

    When we parked, she gave me that SQUEEEEEZY hug..it made time stop.

    I gave her a ring to tell her thank you, and that I pray for her DAILY.

    Some days I feel like I’m falling short of the mom I want to be.
    And then my daughter gently reminds me that presence doesn’t always look like perfection and being ON IT. THE HARD THINGS make us better and closer in every way.

    Today, I’m holding onto that.
    And I’m holding onto her. XXOO