Speaking of Easy

Well, two posts in one day! I’m joining the Let’s Look Linkup over at Mix and Match Mama this month. This is a new one for me! Looking forward to it. This month’s Let’s Look is focused on things we’ve changed our minds about. And there are a ton of those, but I’m going to narrow it down to my three things I’ve changed my mind about as I’ve aged: horror movies, what’s really important as a parent, and camping.

Horror Movies

There was a time—junior high through college—when I was all in on horror movies. I was the queen of jump scares, haunted houses, and gore. If a new Halloween or Nightmare on Elm Street came out, I was first in line. I loved The Lost Boys, Evil Dead, and every creepy, campy thrill in between. Horror movies were fun. They were a way to bond with friends, scream and laugh at the same time, and feel a rush of adrenaline without any real danger.

Fast forward to now—and I couldn’t be less interested.

I’m not sure when it changed, but somewhere along the way, horror stopped being entertaining and started feeling…exhausting. The jump scares lost their charm. The stories felt darker, heavier. Maybe it’s that I’m older. Maybe it’s being a mom. Maybe it’s the real world feeling scary enough these days.

The closest I get to horror now is Stranger Things, and mostly because I can bond with my daughter over it and its the 80s. It’s just scary enough for her, and it gives us something fun to watch together. A little nostalgia, a little suspense—just enough to remind me of those high school nights watching Freddy Krueger for the fifth time.

Funny enough, I’m still into true crime. Give me Dateline or 48 Hours and I’ll binge episodes like nobody’s business. But full-blown horror? Not anymore.

It’s interesting how we change—how what once thrilled us now repels us. And that’s okay. Some things belong to certain seasons of life. Horror movies were a big part of mine. But these days, I’m happy to leave the slasher flicks behind… and settle in with a mystery I can pause for snack breaks.

What’s really important as a parent (for me anyway)

What’s important as a parent? That’s such a personal question, and I don’t believe there’s one right answer. So let me be clear: I’m not here to say what should be important to anyone else—just what has become important to me over time.

When I first became a parent, I thought I knew. I thought it would be important for my child to excel in sports. I grew up swimming by age 3, and later competed in gymnastics and diving in high school. I thought it would be important for my child to do well in school. I didn’t get the best grades myself, but my parents made it clear that Cs were not acceptable, and that message stuck with me.

But life had other plans.

When your child develops a serious, lifelong health condition, priorities shift fast—and permanently. (For part of my daughter’s story, you can read Celebrating our Transplantiversary and Life as a Heart Mom.)

Sports? School accolades? They took a backseat. My daughter doesn’t play any sports. The one consistent activity she’s chosen for herself has been Girl Scouts. She doesn’t have straight As, or even close to it. And that’s okay.

Because here’s what she does have:
🌿 She’s healthy today.
📋 She takes her transplant medications faithfully.
💖 She’s kind.
🌊 She’s empathetic.
🌟 She has a wide circle of friends who love her for who she is.
☀️ She’s genuinely fun to be around.

And I couldn’t be prouder of who she is and what she’s achieved—not despite her challenges, but because of who she’s become through them.

So what’s important to me as a parent?
Health. Kindness. Connection. Joy.
That’s the stuff I hold close now. And it’s more than enough.

Camping

A few years ago, we almost bought a trailer. We were part of a group of friends who camped together every summer, and everyone had a trailer—except us. We were the lone tent campers, hauling our gear into the woods, setting it up on the ground, and hoping for the best.

And honestly? When the weather cooperated and things went according to plan, it was fine. Cozy, even. But then there were the… other times.

Like the year a freak thunderstorm rolled in during the night—and of course, we didn’t bother putting the rain fly on. It was late summer in Northern California! Who expects rain? Well, nature did. Our tent flooded. Our gear was soaked. We had to pack up and bail at 11 p.m. We went to a hotel room.

Then there was the time we could not—COULD NOT—get the tent back into its storage bag. It was the kind of moment that tests a marriage.

So, we decided: let’s get a trailer. It’ll be easier. We’ll finally match the rest of our group. We even found one… but then a paperwork issue stalled the deal.

And you know what? I’m so glad it fell through.

These days, we still join our friends on the annual camping trip—but we rent a cabin, a VRBO, or even a hotel room nearby. It’s just what works for us. My back loves sleeping in a real bed. My brain loves coming home and only having laundry to deal with, instead of a musty tent or dirty trailer.

Could this change in the future? Sure. Life always does. But for now, I don’t miss the camping trailer we never had.