Personal Life: Chaos, Crab Legs, and Ski Lifts
Spring break hit like a tidal wave this week—fun, a little wild, and over before I had a chance to breathe. My mom made a last-minute trip out to visit, which was especially sweet since she hadn’t seen Tag or the boys since Thanksgiving in Boston. Her timing lined up perfectly with Sterling’s 9th birthday on Thursday, so we made a big deal of it.
Sterling spent his mornings in an art class at the Evergreen Center for the Arts. He was secretly hoping for pottery, but alas, it was a paint-and-draw situation. Still, he loved it. For his birthday dinner, we honored his one true wish: a crab feast. We all met at a seafood place that specializes in crab—our crew, Tag’s parents, my mom, Lisa, and her son Tyler. Lisa and I met at the Georgetown post office when Bridger and Tyler were babies, and they’ve basically grown up together. Now they’re teammates on the Conifer Lobos L3 baseball team, and it’s kind of beautiful.
Speaking of baseball, Sunday’s doubleheader against Bear Creek High School was a show. The boys tied the first game after being behind, then won the second by four or five points. Bridger held his own out there—he may be smaller than some of the other players, but he definitely makes a big contribution to the team. I was so proud. It was the first game my mom had ever seen him play, which made it extra special.
Sterling’s baseball season starts soon, and I’m mentally prepping for another round of schedule Tetris.
Saturday, we hit the slopes. I had an NMH alumni thing at Breckenridge, but couldn’t find a single other alum, so I spent the day skiing with Lisa, Bridger, and Tyler. It turned out to be the better plan anyway—great snow, good company, and an opportunity to show my mom the Peak 8 hot tubs and heated parking. Still working to convince myself the timeshare wasn’t a financial mistake disguised as a luxury perk.
Meanwhile, our Florida property is testing my patience. We lowered the price—again—and still no bites. At this point, I think I’ll take my own advice and hold onto it. Managing an Airbnb with a pool is about as relaxing as managing toddlers at a birthday party. It’s not passive income; it’s aggressively active but there is potential in the long run for some sweet rewards. I just have to wrangle in my tendency to cut and run when something appears to not be going my way. Our Madeira dreams might be delayed, but the tickets are booked for summer. We just haven’t bought the return ones yet, and honestly? Dreaming of not coming back is half the fun.
Book Babes (my book club) is finally getting back on the calendar, which makes me happy. A little nosh, some strong opinions, and actual adult conversation—what’s not to love?
Real Estate Life: Closings, Coaching, and Quiet Confidence
On the work side, things are moving in the right direction. I’ve got a closing this Friday for a listing I took over earlier this year. The sellers had a tough run with a previous agent, and I genuinely felt for them. They thought it would all be behind them much sooner. It’s been a process, but we got it done—and that feels really good.
My other transactions are cruising into the home stretch. Inspections are complete, appraisals are in, and yes, appraisal waivers are actually happening right now. Every now and then the universe throws us a bone.
I’ve been loving my new real estate coach. She’s helping me sharpen my skills, systems, and focus. Being a realtor can feel isolating. My office is amazing—full of smart, supportive agents—but let’s be real: we’re all casting lines into the same pond. There’s mutual respect, but also quiet competition. Having a coach who isn’t in that same day-to-day mix gives me objective support, and that’s been a huge gift. Yes, I pay her. But no, I don’t want to talk about that.
Every year I fall a little more in love with this work. The better I get, the smoother things go. Clients trust me, I trust myself, and while I always feel like I could be doing more, the truth is—I’m doing really well. I work hard. I get to build a schedule around the life I want. I help people in a meaningful way. And yes, my income reflects the hustle. There’s no ceiling. I honestly can’t think of another job that offers all this.
Of course, it’s not always sunshine and closings. There are daily curveballs. Tag and I like to call them “gifts.” Painful, inconvenient, character-building gifts. But without the lows, the highs wouldn’t feel so high. And honestly, I’ve learned a lot from the messier moments.
Let’s Get Personal: Tell Me This
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What’s something your kid (or you!) asked for on a birthday that completely surprised you?
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Have you ever booked the wrong flight or had a vacation plan go totally sideways? I need solidarity on the travel chaos front.
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What part of your job—or life—have you grown to love that you never expected to?
Hit reply, comment or text me—I’d love to hear your stories!
