What got me here

Standing on the doorstep of 2026, I got to thinking… what got me to this exact place? In true “work-mode me” fashion, I documented with bullet points. (I know y’all appreciate them in our teeny attention span reality)

• Hustling.

• Relentlessly showing up.

• Saying yes before I knew how (I have played expert when I was a novice more times than I can count).

• Networking until my cheeks hurt. I am ALWAYS in the room.

• Attracting incredible humans to build beside me.

• Connecting people with no expectation of a favor in return.

• Doing.

• Doing more.

• Learning how to juggle a thousand pieces of the business and not completely lose my mind.

• Believing deeply that I could make a real impact.

• Meeting people who TOLD me I was making that impact.

• Helping people.

• Helping people more.

• Always helping people.

Even when I didn’t know how to help myself.

And oh yeah….motherhood.

Motherhood cracked me open.

It taught me grit with no sleep and no ops manual.

It made me a master problem solver with no experience, just gut instinct, love, and a deadline called “now or the tantrum starts in the middle of aisle 6.”

It softened me in the best ways.

And it showed me that my inner circle ( my family, my ride-or-dies, my team, the neighbors I couldn’t live without) deserve to be treated like gold, because they are.

So, that’s what got me here.

And now, I’m curious what gets me to the next version of me.

The next version of me that takes all the lessons, leads with confidence, tries softer (as Andrea Gibson would say), writes a hell of a lot more, and laughs. Then laughs some more.

Warp Speed✨

Where did the giant gaps

in your tiny teeth go?

They’ve been replaced

by a smile

that could stop traffic.

Where did your pint-sized leggings

and munchkin giggles disappear to?

Now I just see sports bras

and mini skirts

strewn across your floor.

Handmade popsicle frames and handprint turkeys

Are nowhere to be found.

Just algebra homework and an ipad

Open to your latest essay on the constitutional congress.

Remember when I read to you each night?

Your head on my chest,

lost in the magic of the story I’d recite.

Today I find you buried under stacks

of young adult fantasy,

side-eyeing me

when I say lights out.

Five years from now,

what will I find?

Your middle school glasses

in your nightstand drawer,

a bookmark under your desk,

your tank top at the bottom of my laundry pile—

reminding me

your eyes are at my level now,

and your shoulders

stronger than mine.

Phone/Soul Tug-of-War

There’s this thing I keep doing. I’m half working, then notice my son is on his ipad playing roblox. It’s usually a brutal reminder that I, myself, am staring at my own screen and ignoring him. I tell him - OFF! Screen time DONE! Then, I remind my daughter why staring at herself on Snapchat is distorting the way she sees herself. I say it with conviction, sometimes even a little flair, like I’ve just delivered a TED Talk on childhood brain development. Then I scroll my inbox for the eighth time that hour. Or reply to a Slack message that probably could have waited. Or check to see if a reel we posted got traction.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

Leading a company demands constant attention. Parenting demands presence. And both seem to be in a turf war with my phone. That buzzing rectangle is where business lives. But it’s also where my attention goes to die.

I want my kids to see me look up more. I want them to know how to communicate with words out loud, not just over test threads or snapchat emojis. And I want to feel the space between tasks. I want to remember what I used to do before every empty moment was filled with tapping and swiping.

So lately I’ve been trying. Not perfectly, (AT ALL) but on purpose.

My first step was turning off notifications. I started with social, moved to email, and though I haven’t been able to switch off slack, I’m hopeful that someday I can. The rule right now is no devices after 8 for the kids, and I leave my phone in the kitchen during dinner. It’s small, but it’s something. I write this, as I know many of you feel the same way. Embarassed by how addicted you are 🙋‍♀️, and helpless or not sure how to step out of the cycle. This might not be the bold cold turkey move some people need, but it’s my start, and I’m proud.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t about being anti-tech because I’m obviously in the tech world. It just hit a point where I knew I needed to change something. I don’t have it figured out. But I’m in the work of making space at home, and in my own nervous system.

If you’re building something or raising someone, or both, and feel like you’re failing both when your phone is always in your hand… you’re not alone. Let’s find a better way to lead, live, and log off. Any ideas, please share!