Homemade.Homegrown.Gypsy

09/28/2025

09/13/2025

❤️

07/25/2025

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

07/15/2025

Your free time…
Your weekends…
That’s their childhood.

The days you want to just relax..
That’s when they’re watching. Waiting.
Soaking it all in.

They won’t remember if the house was spotless.
But they’ll remember you chasing them barefoot through the yard.
They’ll remember the pancake breakfasts and movie nights on the couch.
The mess, the chaos, the laughter, that’s what childhood feels like.

One day they’ll outgrow asking to play.
They’ll stop begging you to come look at what they made.

So if you’re wondering whether to say yes to another game, another walk, another cuddle?

Do it.

Because your time off?
It’s their core memory in the making.

07/09/2025

Halfway through the summer and this is your reminder… ☀️

“You can’t afford to go.”

I’ve heard it more times than I can count.

But my response has never changed:
“I can’t afford not to go.”

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I’ve been criticized—for doing too much, for not doing enough, for how I parent, for when I rest, for when I don’t.

But one thing I’ve caught flack for the most?
Our vacations.
“You should save.”
“You should wait.”
“You can’t afford that.”

But here’s the truth:
We aren’t promised next summer.
We aren’t even promised tomorrow.

I could’ve waited until things were more stable… more comfortable.
But I would’ve missed years—
Years of memories with my only child.
Years of laughing on rollercoaster rides, eating hot dogs at the ballpark, and boarding last-minute flights just to be together somewhere new.

Can we wait? Sure.
But we can also miss out.

Time is a gift.
Time is not promised.

So don’t let guilt rob you of the moments that matter.
Don’t wait for perfect. It rarely comes.

I don’t always know how it’ll work out—but somehow, it always does.
And I’m forever grateful I didn’t put off living.

They say you get 18 summers with your kids…
We’re inching close to 18.

Maybe the vacations won’t end—
But they’ll change.
And so will we.

So here’s your permission slip:
Take the trip.
Make the memory.
Spend the time.
Because the cost of not going?
That’s far greater than the price of the vacation.

🖊️ Laurie Payne

06/29/2025

Two Years Later: A Journey of Healing and Resilience

Two years ago today, our lives were forever changed, and especially for Levi. It started with a bad decision made by someone who was supposed to be in charge. Levi, without a helmet, was allowed to ride a dirt bike on a road. What should have been a simple ride ended with him losing control and crashing face-first into the corner of a cinder block garage.

I remember rushing to Greensburg Hospital, being told, “Don’t panic, he just needs a few stitches.” But when I saw Levi, I knew immediately this was far more serious. Levi had suffered a compressed skull fracture, mild swelling, and brain trauma. The ambulance ride to Children’s Hospital was next, and what followed were days filled with neurology visits, trauma teams, and plastic surgeons. At home, his face began to swell, and bruises appeared along his legs and thighs—marks from the bike’s handlebars, which had probably saved his life.

That day, just after his 10th birthday, ended his summer and introduced a new reality. No amusement park rides, no swimming in the wave pool, no jumping off cliffs at Lake Erie, and no getting his scar wet in lake water. Every day brought new struggles—headaches from being out in the sun, sensitivity to screens, confusion, pain, and long periods of sleep. He couldn’t even tell the difference between “hot” and “hurt” and had trouble using a fork properly. He forgot how to tie his shoes. Even more heartbreaking, he didn’t remember playing the Easter Bunny just months earlier, a role he had been so proud of.

Levi’s entire 4th-grade year was different. He would come home from school every day and take a nap between 4 and 4:20 to “reset” his brain, or his behavior would regress to that of a 5 or 6-year-old, unable to manage the energy required for schoolwork. Blue lights wrecked havoc on him, causing constant headaches, so we decided to homeschool him last year to try and find a rhythm that worked better for his brain.

In the second year of recovery, Levi’s progress has been slow but steady. He learned German through homeschooling, but even without the strain of blue lights, he still struggled with day-to-day life. Screen time has been limited, and though he’s adjusting, it’s been a challenge. On a brighter note, Levi joined Boy Scouts this year, and it has been such a positive outlet for him, though he still tires easily, and heat continues to be his enemy. A recent camping trip to Maryland with his troop was something Levi had been excited about, but unfortunately, he wasn’t able to go at all due to complications from heat, another reminder of the lingering effects of his injury.

This year, Levi will undergo imaging in July to investigate the cause of his continuing headaches and fatigue, hoping to find a clearer path to his full recovery.

As we mark two years since that life-changing accident, I’m filled with gratitude. Levi has come so far, but we know there are still challenges ahead. I remind myself and my family every day how lucky we are that Levi is still with us, and how resilient and brave he’s been through everything.

And to anyone reading this—please, please, please wear helmets. You never know when a simple decision can change everything.