Whining, Wine-ing & Winning

“I’m feeling 22!” Yeah let’s double that number…

I haven’t been writing as much as I used to. I’m not sure if I got lazy, got completely wrapped up in the finally successful potty training, or just felt like I had nothing interesting to say. Let’s be honest…I always have something to say. I just started worrying I was getting boring, less blog-ative, and focusing way too much on sourdough.

The truth is, sourdough has become a habit that’s improving my life. It’s keeping me busy. It’s helping me stay in a stronger sober-ish environment. It gives my brain something to obsess over besides the million other things life throws at me.

Instead of irrationally yelling at my dogs, or sadly, every now and then, my child, I can irrationally yell at a bowl of fermented flour, water, and an active starter because it refuses to hold its shape and just…do something. I made my best loaf this morning. If I can just get that extra lift, I think I’ll finally be there.

Garth is still hanging out. Wayne, on the other hand, has become my ride-or-die starter. He’s active every single day, and he’s the only reason I get to keep chasing my sourdough destiny. Party on, Wayne.

I’ve made focaccia, crackers, and enough flat footballs to supply an entire NFL preseason. I still can’t shape a perfect ball of dough, but I can keep my kid alive, potty train her, get dinner on the table with bread that sometimes looks like a frown, and keep showing up.

That’s really what I’ve learned. My ship isn’t sinking. Some days it feels like it is, but every morning I get up, patch the holes, and keep sailing. More importantly, my daughter gets to watch me do it. She gets to see that failing at something isn’t the end. You just keep trying until one day…it works.

Enough of the sappy shit. Today is my birthday eve.

Last year, my friends threw me a birthday/going-away party before our move to Florida. It was one of those nights I’ll never forget…even if I don’t remember all of it. Everyone who knows me knows I love Rumple shots. When what felt like 473 people buy you shots, the lights eventually go out. They did. Thankfully, Jeff was there to get me home.

The following week we were packed and ready to leave for Florida. We had no jobs lined up, a super shitty moving company, hotels booked, Airbnbs reserved while we house hunted, and what we thought was our future waiting for us.

Then everything changed. Before we even made it to the interstate, Jeff called me. I expected him to be laughing about the dogs. Instead, he was crying. His mom had just been diagnosed with brain cancer.

Ironically, if the moving company had shown up on time, we would’ve already been in Florida when we got the call. People always say, “Everything happens for a reason.” If you’re one of those people, you’re probably getting goosebumps right about now.

Maybe they’re right. Whatever the reason, it kept us from making what could’ve been the biggest mistake of our lives. (Also…getting our shit back from Florida with that same shitty moving company was an absolute shit show.)

We turned around, changed our entire future, and eventually ended up here in Kansas City instead. Funny how life does that.

I started this as a lifestyle blog, and I guess that’s exactly what it’s become. Pieces of my scattered life.

Without this blog, I don’t think I would’ve discovered half the things I love now. Funny how starting something just to write ended up changing so much more than my writing. I cook more. I bake more. I write more. I laugh at myself more. I share the wins, the failures, and every sourdough football in between.

Maybe someone laughs. Maybe someone learns. Maybe someone just realizes they aren’t the only one trying to keep their ship afloat. Either way, thank you. Thank you for reading, for coming back, and for letting me share this wonderfully messy life with you. I still hope someday I get to wine-d down with some of you in person. Until then…have a great weekend, raise a glass for me tomorrow, and help me welcome 44.