Manifesting Freedom

Tag: family

  • I love how the universe works…. It’s truly just magical in its Devine orchestration.

    The Universe Has Jokes… and a Heart of Gold
    So it’s Wednesday. I’m officially over the bus life. Not in a dramatic, throw-my-coffee kind of way—more like a slow, soul-sighing shuffle to the daycare, wondering if my legs are still attached. These 4 a.m. wake-ups? Brutal. The 7 p.m. homecomings? Olympic-level chaos.

    I’m dragging. Emma’s already dropped off. I’m ticking off the minutes until the next bus arrives, knowing we’re cutting it close. I’m mentally calculating the sprint I’ll need to make it.

    Then the daycare door opens—and I’m immediately wrapped in a hug.
    Not by my kiddo.
    By the daycare owner.

    She’s slightly older than me, radiating warmth and wisdom. Her hug feels like it’s been earned through years of struggle and grace.

    “You taking the bus?! See?” she says, eyes wide.

    I nod. “Yup.”

    “In da cold mornings too?” Her face contorts like I’ve just confessed to swimming in lava.

    Another nod.

    “No no no no!” She steps back, finger wagging like a mama bear with a mission. “This is bad! See?!”

    I shrug. “It is what it is.”

    She rubs my shoulders like she’s trying to warm my soul. “You come in the morning—I open early for you! No wait outside! Brrrr!”

    I laugh, genuinely touched. “That would be amazing. It’d help me catch the earlier bus.”

    Before I can even finish thanking her, she’s already on to phase two of her rescue plan.

    “I bring Emma home every night. 5:30. I bring her. You house close to me.”

    I blink. Tears well. “Wow. Thank you. Truly.”

    She hugs me again. “Moms stick together! We love Emma. You deserve it, momma. We help!”

    And just like that, the universe—through this fierce, loving woman—rewrote my week.

    Now?
    One bus ride in the evenings.
    Thirty minutes of me-time before Emma gets home.
    A little slice of peace carved out of chaos.

    It’s not just logistics. It’s love. It’s community. It’s divine orchestration with a side of finger-wagging and shoulder rubs.

    So here’s to the helpers. The huggers. The ones who see your struggle and say, “No no no no!” and then do something about it.

    Because sometimes, the universe doesn’t just show up—it shows up wearing a daycare apron and calling you “momma.”

  • I love how the universe works…. It’s truly just magical in its Devine orchestration.

    🎃 The Halloween Curse Strikes Again
    If you know my family, you know Halloween isn’t just costumes and candy—it’s a cursed calendar square. This year, true to tradition, the curse came for me and Emma. High fevers. Six days. One very foggy memory of trying to reheat soup and realizing I’d forgotten to turn on the burner after half an hour of waiting. Sleep became sacred. Sanity? Optional.

    Enter: my brother. The unsung hero in sweatpants. He DoorDashed medicine, groceries, comfort food, and the kind of care that doesn’t come with a receipt. He checked in daily, made sure we felt human, and reminded me—through texts and tacos—that I wasn’t alone. Honestly, he’s the best human I know. And I get to call him my little brother.

    💸 Meanwhile, in the Land of Adulting…
    While my body was fighting off whatever Halloween hex had hit us, my brain was spiraling into financial dread. I haven’t been at my job long, and my benefits don’t kick in until next month. I was quietly panicking—wondering if a week off would cost me my job, my paycheck, or both. I was sick, scared, and silently stress-spiraling while watching Bluey with Emma.

    🧠 Monday: Return of the Fever Queen
    I walked into work bracing for awkward glances and maybe a pink slip. Instead? I was met with hugs, “We missed you!”s, and genuine concern. My desk had never looked so welcoming. At lunch, my coworker (and low-key guardian angel) pulled me aside. He was running payroll and looked worried. “A week’s lost wages can be brutal,” he said gently. I nodded, trying to keep it light: “I’m living on a prayer, baby.”

    ⏳ One Hour Later: Plot Twist
    He called me into a meeting. I assumed it was about paperwork. Instead, he said he’d spoken with our boss. They’d decided I deserved a bonus—for consistently going above and beyond, for showing up with heart, and for being the kind of person they didn’t want to lose. The bonus? Just shy of a full week’s wages. I blinked. My lips wobbled. All I could whisper was “thank you.”

    💖 Tuesday: The Love Parade
    By the next day, nearly everyone I work with had stopped by to say they were glad I was back. That they’d missed me. That they’d worried. It wasn’t just professional—it was personal. And it reminded me that sometimes, even in the middle of a fever dream and financial fear, you’re held. Quietly. Fiercely. By people who see you.

  • I love how the universe works…. It’s truly just magical in its Devine orchestration.

    Last week, I made one of the hardest decisions a pet parent can face: I chose to rehome our beloved dog.

    It wasn’t because of love lost—far from it. But lately, my schedule has been relentless, and he’s spent more time in the kennel than curled up beside me. When I came home and heard his soft whimpering—gentle, aching, like a question that hung in the air—I knew something had to change. That sound stayed with me. It echoed through the quiet of the house and through my heart.

    I tried everything. I posted adoption listings on multiple sites, hoping to find someone who’d love him as much as we do. But strangely, every post was flagged and removed. It felt like the universe was blocking me, or maybe nudging me toward something else.

    Then I mentioned it to my brother—just a passing comment about the flagged posts and the weight of the decision. The next day, he called me back with unexpected news: our sister had just decided she was ready for a dog. She’d met a few, but none felt right. And when she heard about our pup, she said, “That’s the one.”

    It was a moment of serendipity. Her household is perfect for him—opposite work shifts mean someone’s always home, and they have a spacious yard for him to roam and explore. Most importantly, she’s the kind of person who keeps her pets for life. No uncertainty. No second-guessing. Just love and commitment.

    When she came to pick him up, she laughed and said, “It’s wild—I literally made up my mind last week to get a dog. I met a few, but didn’t feel a connection. I called our brother to vent, and he was like, ‘I know who has the right dog for you.’”

    Four days later, our old friend had a new name, a cozy new bed, a vet appointment to establish care, and a Santa pup photoshoot on the calendar. He’s not just rehomed—he’s home.

    And while my heart still aches a little, it’s hard to feel sad about a match like that. It feels like the universe conspired to give him the life he deserves. And I got to be part of that story.