I read the email and felt the relief land—but it took a few minutes before my body caught up and tears welled up in my eyes.

 

Not because of bad news—but because we finally got the insurance estimate we’d been hoping for. All the work we’d done around Josie’s cochlear implant upgrade had paid off, and the relief caught me off guard.

 

It was the first moment of relief I’d felt in six weeks—and I could feel the wave pass through me. My shoulders dropped. My chest softened. My body released what it had been holding.

 

Because for a while there, it didn’t look like we’d get any coverage at all.

 

 

When a cochlear implant user needs an upgrade, it’s not optional. Technical support ends next year—a bit like needing an iPhone upgrade. But this isn’t about bells and whistles. It’s about her ability to navigate the world.

 

We’ve been working behind the scenes all summer trying to sort it out—calling, emailing, fuming, getting nowhere with the insurance broker who made a very expensive mistake and basically said "Sounds like a you problem."

 

 

It's the kind of mess that drains not just time and money—but mental energy, too.

And of course, this all happened to align with back-to-school season, which always requires extra advocacy for Josie.

 

It's a part-time job year-round—but come the start of school, it becomes full-time and my focus becomes staying regulated enough to navigate whatever’s next.

 

Layer that on top of a new para support schedule that didn’t offer the coverage Josie needed—and I was back in full mama warrior mode.

I’ve been doing this for almost 9 years now—since Josie lost her hearing from meningitis at 13 months old.

 

And it’s not just the logistics that wear me down—it’s the accumulation. The long-term toll of always being the one to push, to clarify, to ask for more.

 

Not in a dramatic way—just a true one.

 

It's also true that nothing about Josie’s path has been typical—not since she got sick.

 

And I’ve shaped our life around that truth. Quiet, slow, together. There’s no room for hustle—not because I’m bad at time management, but because my capacity is already spoken for.

 

By the time Josie’s para reached out the day before school started, asking how I was doing, the dust had just begun to settle. A simple question—but it landed in that in-between space where adrenaline begins to fade and the body finally starts to register all it’s been holding.

 

I told her I felt like the emotional wave of it all had passed.

 

Then, the email came. The one that confirmed: we’d made it through another storm. And only then did my body catch up. My nervous system finally got the message, and warrior mama mode powered down.

 

I had been floating above it all for weeks—now questioning if I came on too strong.

I'm learning it takes faith. Which, as someone who is spiritual but not religious, feels a little uncomfortable.

 

It also takes practice. And a whole lot of questioning whether I'm doing the right thing. Fortunately for me, life keeps handing me opportunities to practice. Yay!

 

And even though it’s hard, I’d do it all again for Josie—because that’s what love looks like in practice.

 

That part never changes—my love, my commitment—no matter how much I’m reshaped in the process.

 

 

PS: If you’re feeling stretched or quietly tired… you’re not alone. We’re doing the best we can inside systems that weren’t built for our kids—or for us.

 

Know someone navigating life with a child who doesn’t quite fit the mold? Send this their way. A small reminder that they’re seen, supported, and doing something incredibly important goes a long way. 

🎨 Creative Invitation: Let coloring hold you when your bandwidth is depleted

 

Your colors are calling—let’s find them together on September 21

 

Worth Sharing + Calendar + Studio Snapshot

When my emotional bandwidth is low, starting with a blank page is too much. But color? I can always choose a color.

 

🖍️ I’ve been using Tombow Dual Brush Pens—and may have spent an embarrassing amount of time picking my sets. I went with Pumpkin Spice, Retro, and Pastels (though Just Peachy and Very Berry were close seconds… I already had too many overlapping colors). 

 

This week, give your nervous system a soft place to land:

Not sure what your colors are?

You’ll leave with your own personalized palette, a better understanding of how color works, and a renewed sense of creative confidence.

Beautifully Honest | Bless the Messy is my favorite kind of colorful journal-style book. Jess Bird offers raw, relatable reflections on healing from trauma, breaking free from the roles we were handed, and learning to live more fully in your truth. She writes with honesty about coming out after marriage,  ADHD , family trauma—all while unlearning who she was told to be. It’s not a how-to. It’s a me too.

Sep 11, Oct 9

Virtual | 1pm-2pm MST

Register for this FREE event here

 

Sept. 21, 1-4pm | Two Hands Paperie, Boulder CO

$115.00 includes all materials | 4 spots left

Sign up here

 

✨
 Need a brand refresh or a website that actually feels like you? I design custom Squarespace sites + branding for purpose-driven folks doing meaningful work.

 

🎨

 Planning a retreat, team event, or special gathering? I lead private art workshops that are playful, low-pressure, and perfect for all skill levels.

 

→ Explore Design Services | Book a Call | Private Workshops

Lexisworks | Most Beautiful Design

 

If you’re new here—hiya! I’m Lexis, the artist, designer + creative guide behind Lexisworks, Most Beautiful Design, and, of course, this newsletter.

 

My work—whether through design or creative workshops—is all about helping others express their unique brilliance with creativity + intention.

 

Every other Thursday, I share honest reflections + creative invitations to support your connection to your Creative Self to help you live with more joy, clarity + meaning.

 

I’d love for you to stick around.