School is back in session for my kids, and it's a pretty low-key affair around here—no Facebook photos or special outfits. Our days are much calmer now, which is a sharp contrast to how things used to be.
Just the other day, Facebook reminded me of a chaotic morning from a few years ago. We were running late, as usual, with the kids rushing out the door, breakfast in hand, as they piled into the minivan. About two miles from home, my daughter started screaming about a spider crawling on the window. I tried rolling the window down to let it out, but it clung on stubbornly. Thankfully, I had an empty coffee mug in the cup holder from the day before, so I handed it to her to squish the spider. Instead, she threw the cup at it! Both the spider and my mug went flying out the window.
I had to pull over and dash to retrieve the mug from the side of the road. When I got back in the car, I told the kids to finish eating. That’s when my daughter discovered she’d been sitting in her toast and jelly during the entire spider battle. I handed her a roll of paper towels, and we just kept moving forward toward school.
It was one of those mornings I’ll never forget. I’m not sure when the shift happened, but we don’t have mornings like that anymore. Those wild, JACK’d-up moments are now blurry memories we can laugh about. I share this to remind other parents—there’s another side to the chaos. The days are long and hard, but the years really do fly by.

Before I had children, I was an avid gym-goer. The gym wasn’t just a place I visited regularly—it was a part of my identity. I went nearly every day, pushing myself with intense workouts that left me feeling exhilarated. But once I had children, everything changed. I stopped going to the gym, but I never stopped exercising or fueling that essential part of who I am.
Recently, I was reminded of that time in my life when I was a busy mom to small children but still yearned for that post-workout high. I came across a note I wrote to myself, and it took me right back to those days:

Since I can no longer get to the gym, I have taken over our neighborhood park. It's actually a great workout! I hold the baby between my legs while hanging from the monkey bars and move my legs in circles while doing leg lifts. I do walking lunges, squats, push-ups, dips, and jump rope while my daughters are on the swings. When they need another push, I sprint over to them and then sprint back to my workout area. Yesterday, I actually climbed a wall! It's not as fun as the gym, but it will do for now. I've gotten over all the stares I get from the other parents and kids. For added fun, I chase the kids around the park while lugging my 20-pound baby with me. A fun time for all! I wonder what other workouts I can do there. If I could do unassisted pull-ups, that would be a great addition, but I can't yet. I'd like something to work the lats. Maybe I can take my resistance bands and hook something up. Hmmm...

Looking back on that note, I realize how much that time shaped me. Even though I wasn’t in a gym, I created my own space to stay fit and maintain that connection to physical activity that I loved so much.
But what’s most striking to me is that, at no point in my note, did I mention wanting to “get my body back” or “drop the baby weight.” Those goals never crossed my mind. For me, exercise has always been about enjoying physical activity and challenging myself. It’s the feeling of pushing my limits, discovering new strengths, and finding creative ways to stay active—whether that meant gym sessions or playground workouts with my kids.
So, now I pose this question to you: how do you refuel? What drives you to move, to stay active, and to nurture the parts of yourself that need attention?
Whether it’s running around with your kids, sneaking in a workout during nap time, or finding moments to connect with your body through movement, I hope you find what excites you. Because when we let go of external pressures and focus on the joy of movement, we’re refueling more than just our bodies—we’re refueling our spirit.
How do you find ways to move and thrive in your busy life?

When my children first started school, we had some memorable experiences. I vividly remember my oldest child's first day of kindergarten. I made sure she went to bed early, prepared her school bag, and carefully selected the perfect dress from her new back-to-school wardrobe—a cute little dress with frogs wearing pink bows, perfectly capturing her personality.
The next day, I eagerly awaited to hear about her first day. When she climbed into the car, I asked, "How was your day?"
"It was great!" she replied.
"Did anyone like your dress?" I asked.
"Yeah! Elloree said she has the same one at home, but hers is a nightgown," my daughter said, matter-of-factly.
My eyes widened in disbelief. I casually checked the label on the back of her dress. Sure enough, it read, "Flame resistant SLEEPWEAR."
Yes, my daughter had worn a nightgown on her very first day of school. In my defense, nightgowns should not be sold on hangers!

​My back-to-school experiences have been a series of memorable mishaps, like the time I unknowingly sent my daughter to her first day of school in pajamas. But perhaps the most unforgettable was Back-To-School 2014. My kids were starting at a new school, and we were all a bit anxious. We had missed the open house, so we hadn't met the teachers or seen the classrooms. I dropped my children off in the car line that morning, watching them walk into their beautiful new school, filled with possibilities.
By the end of the day, I eagerly picked them up, relieved to hear that they had loved their first day. Once we got home, I began tackling the mountain of back-to-school paperwork. Among the forms, one in particular caught my eye.
As an introductory activity, my daughter’s 4th-grade teacher had asked the students to write about their families, favorite foods, colors, and future aspirations. I smiled reading that my daughter’s favorite food was sushi and her favorite color was yellow. But my heart stopped when I saw her future aspiration: to dance on a pole!
On the back of the paper, in red marker, her teacher had left a note. She explained that she had asked my daughter more about her desire to live in the mountains and work as a pole dancer. My daughter clarified that she was referring to the acrobatic pole dancers in Cirque du Soleil—not the kind you’d find at Club Nikki. What a first impression!