Planting Seeds of Growth: Full Circle Moments in Life and Parenting

This past weekend, I was able to witness a few full-circle moments that felt like watching seeds I’d planted long ago start to bloom. Life has a funny way of showing us how much we’ve grown.

On Friday, the Minnesota Timberwolves came to Des Moines for a preseason game. Naturally, we jumped at the chance to go as a family—me, Sully, and the boys. We stopped for food at Stuffed Olive, where we sat outside, laughing and teasing Sully about forgetting to register the boys for their preseason wrestling tournament (classic dad move, right?). We were surrounded by my friend’s mural full of blooms, which she had painted for the restaurant. This friend was the first person I called when I had to rush to the ER to deliver Penelope (check out my YouTube channel for this storytelling). Sitting there, I couldn’t help but feel like her love and art were wrapped around us, bringing everything full circle.

As I sat there, watching Sully interact with our boys, I was reminded of a conversation we had years ago, before the kids. I’d asked him to promise me one thing—stay connected to our kids, especially through the hard teenage years when they become weird. Little did I know what I was really asking at the time. I just saw how some of my older siblings had disconnected from their children as teens, and I didn’t want that pattern for us.

Parenting teens is no small feat. It’s like trying to grow roses when your soil is full of rocks—lots of trial, error, and a few thorns along the way. But I’m constantly reminded to reflect on how I felt at their age, feeling disconnected and misunderstood by my own family. That’s the root that pushes me to be the parent I needed back then. I know my parents did their best with what they had, and I felt deeply loved, but we grew up in a strict home, where exploring and expressing freely wasn’t an option. That fear of failure, of trying new things, was planted early, and I’ve spent much of my life pulling those weeds out of my own garden.

Watching my boys eat, I couldn’t help but think about how soon they’ll be out on their own, making decisions based on what we’ve modeled for them. My oldest, Sullivan, especially caught my eye. I was such a helicopter mom when he was little, trying to protect him from everything. Now, at 15, he’s unlocking fears I unknowingly passed on to him. The irony? I’m unlocking my own fears in my 40s. It’s like we’re both pruning the same tree, just from different sides.

Speaking of pruning, I thought back to 10 years ago, when I opened a beauty bar with a friend. I was pregnant with Valentina and juggling three boys under four years old. In those early days, I worked long hours to keep up with my business partner, even though she never expected that of me. I wasn’t factoring in my personal life and, in hindsight, I can see how that hurt my family more than I ever imagined. I was stuck in people-pleasing mode, assuming my family would love me unconditionally, no matter how much I was away. Fast forward to a recent event when Sullivan called, worried about me being late, just like he used to when I worked late at the salon. That phone call hit me hard—he was still carrying that same worry from all those years ago.

After the basketball game on Friday, there was a crowd as we walked back to the car. I noticed Sullivan turn around to make sure I was close by, and that simple act made me emotional. I became a mom thinking my role was to protect them, but now I see them growing into young men who protect me in their own way. With each new stage of parenting, I find myself grieving the version of them that I’ve known, just as I’m learning to love who they’re becoming. It’s bittersweet, like pruning back a beautiful plant to let new growth come in.

Then there’s Sully’s journey. Back in 2022, during spring break in Minnesota, we went to our first and last NBA game as a family. It was also the first day of Sully’s sobriety. The day before, things had gone off the rails. Sully, in a state of not-so-coherent decision-making, tossed his wallet to the kids and told them to buy whatever they wanted at Mall of America. They found me and, instead of living out their wildest shopping dreams, they told me they didn’t think Dad was in the right place to be making those calls. It was a wake-up call for all of us.

Sully quit drinking cold turkey for 2.5 years after that. These days, he’ll have the occasional celebratory glass of wine, but the real transformation was in his mindset. He faced his problem head-on, and in doing so, he helped me see my own patterns—my addiction to shopping. It took me until the end of 2022 to really confront it. Sully asked me a question that changed everything: “What would you do without me?”

That question woke me up. We’ve both been on this journey of change, not just for ourselves, but for our family. We’ve learned that change is constant, but so are patterns. Recognizing those patterns, taking accountability, and working on ourselves has been the key to cultivating a stronger marriage and family. We’re still figuring it out, but every step we take is another small seed of growth.

Parenting, marriage, life—it all makes you lose pieces of yourself sometimes. But I’m so grateful for the chance to rediscover who I am, to grow alongside my kids, and to witness their light and potential. It’s like I’ve been handed the best front-row seat in the garden of life.

Journal Prompt For Reflection

Think about a time in your life when you noticed a pattern—whether in your relationships, habits, or personal choices—that wasn’t serving you. How did it make you feel, and what steps have you taken (or could you take) to change it? If you haven’t addressed it yet, what’s holding you back? Reflect on how these patterns might have shaped your past and how you can use this awareness to plant new seeds of growth in your future.

Love, B