Who Is ‘Chelle?

If you’d asked me a few years ago who I was, I probably would’ve answered with roles.

Mom. Organizer. Caretaker.
The one who keeps things running.
The one who figures it out.

In 2026, my answer is different — not because those roles disappeared, but because they no longer come first. I’m not defining myself by what I manage or hold together. I’m paying more attention to who I am when I’m not needed.

I’m ’Chelle — a woman who values calm but lives in reality. I love order, structure, and things that make sense, but I’ve learned that life doesn’t always cooperate with my systems. I still try anyway.

At the end of 2024, my sense of control was shaken by a uterine cancer scare. On Valentine’s Day 2025, I had a total hysterectomy. I was incredibly fortunate — everything was caught early, everything was removed, and I was told there is less than a one percent chance of further complications.

It was scary.
It was humbling.
And it changed me.

Not in a dramatic, life-is-now-magical way — but in a quieter, more permanent one.

I became more intentional. More protective of my energy. Less tolerant of what doesn’t matter. I’ve always made time for rest — it’s one of the few things I’ve never had to learn the hard way. I learned that paying attention to your body, your time, and your peace is not optional — it’s necessary.

That mindset carried into April of 2025, when I began my weight-loss journey in earnest. I started taking GLP-1 medications and focused on consistency rather than perfection. Since then, I’ve gone from 240 pounds to 185.

It was about shrinking.
It was about getting healthier.
It was about being a better me.

I’m still working at my job, where I’ve been doing the same thing for the past 18 years. Things are going well. It’s steady, familiar work. It works — and right now, that’s enough.

In the summer, I spend most of my time at the cabin. I’ve set up my bedroom there as an office away from home — a small desk, an extra monitor, and a printer — everything I need to work well from there instead of from home.

I’m often there between renters, taking care of the cleaning of the rental. It’s physical, repetitive work, and oddly grounding. There’s something satisfying about resetting a space and knowing it’s ready for the next people who will arrive.

My kids are doing well, and that matters more to me than almost anything else.

Jess is on the home stretch of finishing her master’s degree.
Nathan is working at a job he loves.
Brad has started a new job as an electrician.
Sommer has completed her nursing degree.
Keagan has started a new job with Acquisition.com.

Watching them build lives of their own — steady, imperfect, and intentional — has been one of the quiet rewards of this season.

November of 2025 brought the first Thanksgiving without Dad there to say his benediction. I printed laminated cards with it for everyone to use. We said it all together in memory of him. It felt very odd not to hear his voice saying the words I know by heart.

Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A reminder that love doesn’t disappear — it just changes how it shows up.

I believe your surroundings affect your sanity. I’ve seen it play out too many times to ignore. When a space works, life feels easier to manage. When it doesn’t, everything feels harder than it needs to be.

I’ve started over more than once — not loudly, not dramatically. Mostly by making adjustments when something no longer fit and moving forward from there.

I care deeply about my family, and I make decisions with that in mind. When something needs to change, I change it. When it doesn’t, I leave it alone.

This writing isn’t meant to inspire or transform.
It’s simply a record of where I am.
What my life looks like now.
And what I’m choosing to carry forward.

Sidetracked Sisters

Family has always been a defining thread in my life, and Sidetracked Sisters grew out of that in the most natural way possible.

It’s two sets of sisters who truly embody the word sidetracked.

When we get together, staying on one topic is nearly impossible. A conversation will start in one place and, before anyone finishes a thought, someone has already moved on to the next. Then another. Then something only loosely related to the original point.

We love each other dearly — and we pick on each other just as much.

Each of us carries a reputation: control freak, flighty, sensitive, analytical. When I list those traits, I usually have specific sisters in mind. But if you asked me again tomorrow, the labels would probably shift.

Because the truth is, we’re all a little bit of each of those things. Alike in ways that matter. Different in ways that make the conversations louder, longer, and occasionally impossible to finish — but never less meaningful.

Sidetracked Sisters isn’t about staying on track. It’s about shared history, overlapping personalities, and the understanding that even when we wander off topic, we always find our way back to each other.

Over the years, Sidetracked Sisters has taken different forms. What started with craft shows grew into writing and sharing blog posts. That led to podcasting, then TikTok — and we’re returning to crafting again at the end of this year.

It’s never followed a straight line. We’ve gotten SIDETRACKED – and changed when we needed to.