Before the day even really began, hubby handed me the smartest, sweetest card: “We’ve been through a lot, but I’m still here.” Honestly, after all these years and all the seasons, that means everything to me.
Then came the last day of finals for Tot. So the ride to school was filled with “Happy Birthday to you” cheers. Math and History. Her hardest ones. She was NOT in the mood to celebrate anything this morning. We drove to school with that finals-week energy hanging in the air. But when I picked her up later, she jumped into the car relieved and proudly announced:
“I’M AN 8TH GRADER!”
Then immediately jumped into the pool in her school uniform.
That pretty much sums up her spirit perfectly.
My mom came over later and spent time with me, which meant so much. Tot and Grandma stood back-to-back comparing heights because somehow Tot is suddenly growing up overnight.
Mom also gave me an incredibly generous gift that left me overwhelmed with gratitude. New clothes are officially coming, and apparently Level 57 is leveling up in the wardrobe department too. (If I can find something that fits!) HA!
Throughout the day, my phone just kept lighting up. Friends. Family. Long-lost friends. Messages from people I haven’t talked to in forever. It felt like little reminders all day long that connection still matters. That people remember you, and that friends are forever even if you don’t talk in years.
I even got to talk to my BROTHER!!
Then hubby surprised me AGAIN with my favorite flowers and another beautiful card.
Coopy adores him too.
He and Tot also got me a Target gift card because apparently everyone agrees it’s time for mom to have some fun clothes
WOW. His cards are better than a new diamond ring. (Wait..what did I just say?) The best part was this:
I didn’t feel good, but I had my family, friends, and this little guy. I just love to stare at him.
Level 57 is looking really, really good. (Well, I have to put on my glasses to see that most of the time. Maybe I should just go glassesless because what you don’t see doesn’t hurt you!) HA!
And I’m deeply grateful for every person who helped make it feel so special.
Summer is almost here. Three more half-days of school, and two of those are finals.
Tatum is ready…ready to be done! She’s ready for summer. Ready for a reset. Ready for what is next.
Next year, she starts at Veritas. It’s a fresh start since she has basically been with the same kids at the same school since she was 5.
We have a busy summer ahead: Algebra. Latin. Reading….and just GETTING READY!
Last night, she told me she feels stuck between two versions of herself.
One version is the “crazy, fun, weird girl” who wears baggy clothes, doesn’t care too much about school or what she wears. The other version is the “smart, pretty, put-together girl.”
OH, wow! That is what they call: Thirteen. That awkward middle. She is now old enough to wonder who she is.
So I told her what I hope she remembers. She can be BOTH! I told her about when I had my first job with Eli Lilly as a pharmaceutical rep. I would get dressed in my cute little suit and heels. (What was I thinking!?) I was polished, prepared, professional, and put together.
I said, “You do not have to shrink yourself into one category just so other people know what to do with you.”
BECAUSE, the second I got home? Hair on top of my head…Face washed, jammies!
And neither version was fake.
We don’t have to choose one! Just so we are still the same person on the INSIDE. .
So I asked Tatum, “What qualities do you want to for sure have? Who do you want to be?”
She said:
Smart.
Pretty.
Kind.
A good friend….(?)
Explain…
Loyal.
A good listener.
Someone who cares about people. (and birdies!) heehee
Okay then, let’s stick to those.
And then I asked, “And a Jesus follower?”
“Yes,” she said. Of course. (That one matters most).
SO THIS SUMMER…is really about….
I think…. preparing her heart.
She does not have to become less fun to be smart, or less weird to be pretty, or less herself to be accepted.
SHE CAN BE: Fully Tatum.
She is just at the beginning of another becoming. I love being on the front seat. I LOVE YOU!
Mother’s Day did not start off picture perfect. (well, does any day!? HA)
I wanted to go to church….I wanted the light, easy day. However, Tatum didn’t feel well, so we stayed home. Doug and I had not the best morning either, and honestly, it all just felt heavy from the beginning.
I blame myself.
I never want to be a burden. I never want to feel like the problem. I want our home to be light and warm and jovial. I try so hard to make it feel that way. I keep it clean. I put out flowers. I make it cozy. I want it to feel like a place people (well, lately, just us) want to be.
But sometimes, with how I’ve felt for so long, I feel anything but light. In fact, many days, I feel dark. Non-functional. Sad. Heavy. (forgive me, Jesus)
And I try so hard not to bring that onto my family, but some days I just can’t hide it. Some days the tears come anyway. Mother’s Day morning was one of those days. It became a bit of a cry fest.
And then… Austin. Whoda thunk!?
Out of the blue, he sent me a text thanking me for making his pops so happy.
What?
That completely undid me because that very morning I had been telling Doug that I felt like I had ruined his life. That I had ruined his chance at happiness with everything I’ve put him through. And then, almost like God let someone else speak into the exact place I was hurting, Austin sent that..those words.
Doug then brought. me a whole bushel of sunflowers. He knows me sooooo well.
They truly do something to my heart. They brighten the room, but they also brighten me. God still knows exactly how to reach me.
And then there was Tatum. Oh, Tatum.
She had been working on an “edit” for me. She loves making videos, and this one was for Mother’s Day. She could not wait to show me. She showed me in the morning when she saw me crying in my bedroom, then added more to it later and told me she was going to show me again that night, so I needed to be surprised.
The video had all these little definitions: Mom. Funny. Best friend. Attractive. Pretty. Beautiful.
It was funny and sweet and dramatic and adorable and perfect.
and there was more!
She ended it with me basically awe-inspired.
Tatum never writes much in cards. Usually I’m lucky if I get a name and a quick note. But this time she wrote. Really wrote…and it was truly from her heart.
She thanked me for always listening to her nonsense, for doing the things that can be overwhelming, and for loving her. She told me she loves me. She called me her everything..JUST wow.
And then came the gifts. Now, I love gifts like the next gal, but these MEANT something.
A whole basket of treasures. A grateful sign (from my HHH), A little crocheted sunflower with a smiley face (HE knows what makes me smile as well as a heart that said, “Always remembered, forever loved.”). From Tot: A puppy stuffed animal. A Woodstock cup. A floral cup. Little glass birds. A pink tree. A mother-and-child figurine that said, “A mother holds her child’s hand for a while but their heart forever.”
And Doug’s card.. He ALWAYS delivers the most precious words.
It was all of the thought. The noticing. The way they knew what would make me smile. The way they chose things that felt like me. The way they kept choosing me on a day when I felt like too much. This was the perfect Mother’s Day.
It started with tears, disappointment, and that awful feeling that maybe I bring more weight than joy.
But by the end of the day, surrounded by sunflowers and my family, this Mother’s Day was not ruined.
It was redeemed.
Epilogue
The next morning (Monday), the ride to school was ANYTHING but peaceful. We were running very late, and Tatum takes the anger she has for herself out on me, and then she admits it..but always after the fact. We sat in the parking lot. (mind you she was now 5 minutes late). I wouldn’t let her go in yet. I held her in my arms as she sobbed. Then I prayed over her and had her wipe her tears. We walked in the office then, head held high. She’s got this. Then…11:25.
Yesterday, I was a bit under the weather…not the dramatic kind of under the weather, but I was just not very active. I was tired. And honestly, I felt a little sad too.
But first, Jesus…that is where I keep running. Over and over and over again. I run to Him when I am scared. I run to Him when I am weak. I run to Him when I am frustrated. I run to Him when my body feels like too much…and when I am sad. And guess what? He fills me. I just wish he’d heal me completely, physically. But, not yet.
But, yesterday, a Jesus moment came through Tatum.
Now, let me be honest. We had a rough start. Finals are coming, and there was homework to finish, and I could feel myself getting frustrated. She was not staying on task the way I thought she should, and I started doing that mom thing where I believe if I just push harder, explain louder, redirect one more time, or hover intensely enough, somehow everything will magically get done. It does not work that way, unfortunately.
Yes, I need to chill sometimes, and I need to let her fail, but that is hard to watch. I cannot force her into focus. I cannot control every outcome. I cannot make finals less stressful by becoming more stressed. That one is on me.
But somehow, by the grace of God, we got to a good place.
A really good place.
At some point, Tatum took a picture of me. I was not trying to pose. I did not feel cute. I did not feel strong. I did not feel like the best version of myself.
And she looked at it and said, “You’re so pretty, Mommy.”
Then she made it the lock screen on her phone.
Man. Just…geez.
Later, we were watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns together, because apparently that is what you do when life feels heavy and you want fictional hospital chaos to distract you from your own. There was a scene where a pregnant woman had been hurt in the hospital, and she asked for a lawyer because she wanted to make sure her child would be protected. She did not have a will, and she wanted everything in place.
And suddenly, I was crying.
Because I remembered…I remembered the hospital. I remembered Tatum in the incubator. I remembered her birth mom, April, in that room. I remembered April’s mom right outside the room. It was a defining moment.
The hospital person came in, and April officially made me, Stephanie Knight, the mother on Tatum’s birth certificate…She could have changed her mind right then and there.
But she didn’t. She chose me….ME!
She chose Tatum’s future with me as her mommy.
And in that moment, I became Tatum’s mom officially in the eyes of the hospital, in the birth certificate paperwork, and in the eyes of the woman who had carried her. I could take her home. My baby…home! I will never forget that.
Tatum saw me crying and started comforting me. Then she asked, “When did you tell me I was adopted?” And I told her the story. She was four. I’ll never forget that night. I was teaching a night class at GCU, and suddenly I just knew. I knew in my spirit. I knew in my mom heart. I knew that that was the night. So I let my students go home early.
I drove home, and Doug was there, and my mom was there. I had a book ready.
Before that night, I had always told Tatum she was born from my heart. But that night, we read the book and told her more of the story. She may not have understood every detail at four years old. But she knew the most important part….THAT SHE was chosen, wanted, and loved completely.
And I would always, always be her forever mommy.
So, we stopped the show and she disappeared into the office. She started looking through our massive collection of picture books.
And when I say massive, I mean we have kept almost all of them. (this is a SMALL number of what is left. But still…shelves and shelves of stories. Every night…almost daily for minutes..sometimes hours until maybe three years ago.
But.. then the sweetest thing happened. Tatum started pulling books off the shelves.
Not just any books. The ones we remembered.
And then she started to read to me….and read to me. Like a teacher! (which BTW is her dream…and I hope she lives it out!) I had been feeling awful. Truly awful.
But then I laughed and listened. I forgot about the pain for a little while. I forgot about feeling sick. It was kind of an unexpected, Jesus-given break.
And maybe that is what made it so special. Nothing monumental happened. We did not go somewhere fancy. There was no big event. No perfect schedule.. Heck it was unplanned!
This memory just opened a door of happiness.
Then I saw my Coopy sitting at the door waiting.
And my wonderful husband outside, working hard like he always does, making our home more beautiful. Just your basic ordinary day.
But it was holy.
Sometimes the best days are not the ones where everything goes perfectly. Sometimes they are the days where you start frustrated, cry during a TV show, end up surrounded by children’s books, and realize God has been with you the whole time. And that is what kept me going. Yesterday, Tatum kept me going.
And of course, Doug loved us by serving…and Coopy waited for me (or someone!!) in his little sunny spot.
And I was reminded again that my life is not perfect, but it is full.
Thank You, Jesus, for my family.
And thank You that I get to be Tatum’s forever mommy.
Why change feels so hard, and why it still might be right
“Breaking up is hard to do…”
Remember that song? I was singing it this morning for no apparent reason, which is usually how these things start for me. And then I started thinking about how true it really is.
Breaking up is hard to do, but not just with people. Sometimes we have to break up with habits, routines, foods, places, ideas, expectations, and even versions of ourselves we used to be.
I think that is why change is so hard. Not because of the change itself, but because we are leaving something familiar. Kind of like an old pair of jeans that are broken in and comfortable, but no longer fit the body or the season we’re in.
The funny thing is, change can also be exciting because of the newness. A new routine, a new school, a new nutrition plan, a new friend, a new possibility. There can be hope in that. But really, the harder part is letting go of the version of ourselves that knew how to live in the old thing.
Sometimes it is time to move on.
Habits are hard to break. There is a reason books like Atomic Habits and The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People became so popular. We are fascinated by habits because we know they shape us…our days and our lives. However, knowing a habit needs to change and actually changing it are two completely different things.
Maybe habits are relationships.
Even the little habits become relationships. Like maybe we have a relationship with a protein bar we eat every day because it tastes good, feels easy, and has become part of the daily ritual. Never mind that one pesky ingredient may not love us back. We have a relationship with the workout that gives us that high, even if our body is saying, “Not right now.” We have a relationship with the place we go every day, the people we see, and the routines we follow.
So when it is time to change, we are not just changing the thing. We are changing the relationship we had with the thing.
That is what makes it feel like a breakup.
For me, I remember when my original gut issues started and I had to give up things I never thought twice about. Little things. Daily things. Foods I liked. Workouts I loved. At first, it felt ridiculous to grieve something as small as a protein bar or a swimming routine. But it was not really about the protein bar. It was not really about the swim.
It was about realizing I could not keep doing what I had always done and expect my body, or my life, to keep cooperating.
And isn’t that true for so many kinds of change? At some point, that tiny whisper starts saying, “This isn’t working anymore.” It could be our bodies, our kids, our relationships, our routines, our seasons. Something starts nudging us toward change.
Maybe God allows enough discomfort that we finally have to admit the old way is no longer working.
And now I am watching this same idea show up in another area of life. My daughter will be attending a new school next year. We have prayed about this change and taken the steps. But even when something is right, it can still feel hard because change brings all the what-ifs with it.
What if it is harder than we thought? What if she misses what she knew? What if I miss what I knew? What if the old place was comfortable for a reason, and now we are walking into something unknown?
Ah, the anticipation of change. That is what gets us.
I think of it like a waiting room between what was and what will be. And I think that waiting room is where most of us get tempted to run back to what is familiar.
Familiar can feel safer than better, but comfortable does not always mean peaceful. That can be a hard lesson.
But then, eventually, we take one step.
And we realize we did not die. The world did not fall apart. The new thing did not swallow us whole. We took the step, and we are still breathing.
This is why breaking up is hard to do.
Those familiar things hold memories and comfort. They hold versions of ourselves that are easy to return to.
And maybe that is where we have to pause and ask a better question. Is this change stretching me toward the person I want to become, or am I holding on because the old version of me feels easier to understand or more comfortable?
Does staying in what is familiar actually bring me peace?
Maybe part of loosening our grip is learning to picture what we are moving toward, not just what we are leaving behind. The more we can picture the peace, the growth, the health, or the new rhythm we are being invited into, the more doable the next right step becomes.
We can start by loosening our grip and taking one step. God does not ask us to know the whole road before we leave the old one. He just asks us to trust Him with the next step.
Tatum has been at Paradise Valley Christian Preparatory since kindergarten.
Well, almost.
In 5th grade, we made the decision to pull her out and homeschool, and she continued homeschooling through part of 7th grade. Then she returned to PVCP to finish out 7th grade. So in many ways, PVCP has been part of her whole childhood.
And now, it is time for a change.
It’s been a difficult year going back to school in 7th grade. We thought this school would be it, but God may have other plans. For Tatum, we began talking about high school. I have always hoped she would receive a classical education…one rooted in great books, rich discussions, strong writing, history, logic, language, and the kind of academic formation that teaches students how to think, not just what to memorize. Originally that is what drew me to Great Hearts. And now, that is coming true.
At first, we were looking ahead to high school. But the more we thought about it, the more it made sense to begin in 8th grade. Instead of waiting for 9th grade to be the big transition, she can step into the community a year earlier. She can learn the rhythms, meet students, build friendships, understand the expectations, and walk into high school already feeling grounded. PLUS…she has to know Latin! That means WE BOTH need to become proficient over the summer.
NO pressure.
But honestly? It feels like such a gift.
Veritas is a small school, and that matters to us. I love the idea of her being in a place where students are known, where classes are thoughtful and challenging, where there are athletics and clubs and opportunities to try new things. I love that she will be surrounded by students who are being asked to read deeply, speak clearly, write well, and wrestle with big ideas. AND the curriculum is no joke.
She will be walking into 8th grade with Latin III, which means this summer will include a Latin crash course. She also has to take Algebra I next year, so I am very thankful she took Algebra 1/2 this year. That will help. But yes, there will be math this summer too. *LOTS*
So basically, this summer will be part rest, part preparation, part “welcome to classical education.” Latin and algebra, here we come.
For Tatum, it’s a fresh start, and I pray it truly is.
Tatum is ready for something new. She is ready to meet new people, make new friends, and step into a different environment. She is excited about high school again, and that alone feels huge.
I have always wanted Tatum in a Christian school environment. I value faith being part of education. I value Scripture, prayer, and a worldview that acknowledges God. But I have also been thinking a lot about what it means for faith to become personal.
Sometimes when something is around us all day, every day, we can begin to take it for granted. And I wonder if, for Tatum, this next season may actually strengthen her faith in a different way. Not because it is handed to her in every class period, but because she has to own it. Because she has to think about what she believes. Because she has to live it in a broader environment, among students from different backgrounds and perspectives. That used to scare me, but I now think it may be good for her.
Our home will still be rooted in faith; our conversations will still be shaped by Jesus. Our values are not changing. But maybe this is a chance for her faith to become more alive. That is part of GROWING up!
She hopefully is becoming more prepared TO THINK which is not what I am seeing in our younger generations. And I want that for her.
I want her to have teachers who expect a lot from her and a community where she can grow into herself.
YET, STILL be that playful, silly self
PVCP has been part of Tatum’s story since kindergarten. And now Veritas gets to be part of the next one. I AM SO excited to be on the front seat. FOR 8th, high school, friendships, opportunities, and a fresh start.
ALL those amazing days of us reading together and learning together ….NOW we are transitioning into YOU just becoming more and more independent.
Tatum, let’s start really learning and growing. You are becoming MORE of the beautiful woman of God you already are.
Most of us don’t stay stuck because we’re not trying. And even when we start to see what might be holding us back, we are not always sure how to move forward.
I’ve been a teacher for years. In this role, you are expected to have the answers.
When I moved from working with middle school students to graduate students, something changed. I couldn’t just deliver content or instruction anymore. That approach didn’t go very far.
I had to become more of an encourager, a facilitator, a coach. It took time to stop thinking about what I needed to say and start paying attention to what they needed.
Over time, I realized this wasn’t just about the classroom.
The moments that mattered most were not when I was doing the talking. They were when I was walking alongside someone in the middle of their learning, their questions, and their growth.
I didn’t grow up with a lot of memorable coaches, but I did have one in ice skating, Coach Jim. And he said something that stuck with me:
“The more you fall, the harder you’re trying.”
At the time, I remember thinking…HUH? The more I fail, the better I become?
Now I get it.
Lately, I’ve also been watching Friday Night Lights, and I’m fascinated by Coach Taylor. His style is different. He’s tough, but his players know he has their back no matter what. There’s a partnership there. He leads, but he also sees them. He reads them. He believes in them, sometimes more than they believe in themselves.
And that’s what I keep noticing. The focus isn’t on the coach. It’s on the person in front of them.
Right now, I mentor new faculty at GCU. In many ways, it feels like coaching. I sit in on their classes, often like a fly on the wall, present but unseen.
But here’s the hard part. Coaching means calling things out, even when someone doesn’t want them called out.
Most of us don’t see our own blind spots. And even when we start to, we don’t always want to name them. It’s just not in our nature to focus on them.
That’s where the right person can make all the difference. Someone willing to point it out and then stay with us through the growth.
We can call it teaching, coaching, mentoring. They all overlap.
But at the core, it’s about having someone who sees what we can’t or aren’t willing to look at.
Because while we’re all equal in our worth, we’re not all equal in our strengths. And sometimes a weakness can quietly become a stronghold, a blind spot, or something that holds us back physically, mentally, or emotionally.
For me, it showed up physically. I was stuck in something that kept me sick for years. And if I’m honest, I didn’t fully see it at the time, or maybe I wasn’t willing to see the whole picture. It took a long, winding road to even begin to understand what was going on.
Looking back, I can see how much I would have benefited from someone who could see what I couldn’t. Someone willing to say it and then walk with me through it.
It might not have taken so long. But looking back, I can see God was doing something in it, even when I didn’t understand it at the time.
We need each other. Not necessarily a formal coach or mentor, but someone willing to walk alongside us, someone who sees us clearly, tells us the truth, and doesn’t walk away.
Because sometimes, the difference between staying stuck and moving forward is simply having the right person beside you.
And if I’m honest, this is what years of teaching have shown me. The real lessons don’t come from having the answers.
Sometimes it’s about being willing to be a student, to face your own blind spots and do the hard work of getting unstuck.
Only then can you truly walk alongside someone else in theirs.
