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There was no warning. No dramatic music playing in the background. No obvious line crossed. Just a glance. My daughter was sitting there, phone in hand, the soft glow of the screen lighting her face in the quiet of the room. I was doing what moms do—half paying attention, half carrying the weight of a hundred other thoughts. But something made me look closer. Not at the screen. At her. Her eyes didn’t just look. They lingered. And in that lingering, something shifted. It was

Hi, friend. I’m Kaci. At the moment, I’m writing this as a 37-year-old wife and mom sitting in the middle of one of the busiest, most beautiful, and most overwhelming seasons of my life. I have a four-month-old baby who still wakes me up multiple times a night. I have a teenage daughter preparing for high school. My husband and I are in the middle of selling our house and land and moving our family to a neighborhood with sidewalks, a community pool, and a playground—closer to