Please Be Patient With Me
I’m from the 1900s
I used a clicker.
I opened the garage by hand.
I typed code to play Pong.
I survived Hamburger Helper and phone cords.

And I’m ready for my robot butler.

Whether you're building a business or building a blanket fort with your toddlers, there's no wrong way to do this. Your season is yours—valid, sacred, and not up for comparison. Perfection is a scam. Peace is the goal. Choose what brings you life.

Turns out, trying to be perfect is exhausting — and wildly overrated. These days, I’m embracing the chaos, ditching the comparisons, and learning to love the beautifully messy version of life I actually have. Welcome to Barely Tolerable — where being a hot mess is kind of a superpower.

There’s nothing quite like raising boys — the noise, the mess, the belly laughs over things that shouldn’t be funny (but totally are). From go-karts held together by duct tape to fridge doors left open mid-snack hunt, life as a boy mom was a beautiful whirlwind. Now, as my sons step into adulthood, I’m learning how to let go — with love, grace, and just a little bit of heartache. Here's what I’ve learned from the chaos… and why I’d do it all over again.

Not all friendships are built to last—and that’s okay. Some bloom for a season and vanish like my not-so-perennial flowers. Here's to the ones who stay, and the beauty of the ones who don’t. New on Barely Tolerable.

We don’t spiral because shame is true—we spiral because we’ve rehearsed it like a script written by someone else. In this post, I share how childhood guilt created a loop that hijacked my mental health, and how I finally broke free by facing the memory, reframing the story, and reclaiming my power.