life – Simple Southern Mommy

Sometimes, life gives you a crossroads… and sometimes it gives you a quarter.

In August 2024, we got some big news: Sparky’s company would be relocating operations to the Charlotte area—right near the border of North and South Carolina. It stirred something in us. We’d been living in a difficult housing situation for a while, and my health had been declining without clear answers. We’d been praying hard for change—for healing, for hope, and for home.

Then came January, and with it, a name for what had been plaguing me: Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. That diagnosis changed a lot, but it also brought clarity. We found ourselves wrestling with the possibility of another big move. Would we really uproot again? Could we? The last time we took a leap like that, I was five and a half months pregnant, moving from California to Texas on nothing but faith and a dream.

We brought the idea to our family here in Texas—and wouldn’t you know it? North Carolina and South Carolina were already on their radar too. It was like the Lord had been laying a trail of breadcrumbs.

One night, Sparky and I were sitting up late, like we used to do before the kids—music playing, hearts open. And then it came on: Heads Carolina, Tails California. We looked at each other and smiled. I picked up a quarter and flipped it. Heads Carolina. Again. Heads Carolina. Over and over again. Tails wouldn’t show up if I tried.

For us, it became:
Heads Carolina, Tails Texas.
And Texas… it just wasn’t coming up.

When we told Big Mac, he tried flipping it too—several times—and all he could land was heads. He’s been the most hesitant. Texas is all he’s ever known. But even he started to notice the pattern.

Then came another sign: I learned the Medical University of South Carolina is leading groundbreaking Ehlers-Danlos research. Right there—where we were being called.

We took a relocation trip a couple of weeks ago, and from the moment we arrived in the Carolinas, it just felt right. The air, the peace, the people. We clicked instantly with our real estate agent, part of a team that specializes in helping families like ours make these life-changing moves. It didn’t feel like we were scouting—it felt like we were coming home.

And today… Sparky got the email.
It’s official.

We chose Heads Carolina.
We’re moving in Summer 2026.

Something I ordered shipped Friday—just 2 hours and 21 minutes away.
And yes, that’s with Texas traffic, where every freeway’s under construction and the state flower should honestly be the traffic cone.

It’s now Tuesday.
Still no package.

In the time it’s taken for USPS to not deliver that box, I’ve:
✅ Gone to the ER
✅ Gotten discharged
✅ Scheduled a follow-up with my GP
✅ Mentally picked throw pillows for my suite at Hotel Harris

The boys call it that—Hotel Harris—because I’m there too often, not because I should have a private room.
(Though for the record? I’ve never had a roommate. Ever. The punch card must be working.)

Sparky says I need a business card listing all my meds just to make check-in faster.
And honestly, at this point I’m just waiting on:
🛏 A monogrammed robe
💉 Frequent flyer miles
🧃 And a punch card that earns me a free saline bag after my 10th stay

USPS? Still reenacting the Oregon Trail with my package.
If it doesn’t show up soon, I half expect the tracking to say:

“Your order was delayed due to dysentery.”

Amazon?
They swore it’d be here Monday.
Now it’s “maybe tomorrow,” with all the confidence of a teenager trying to fold laundry.
And now they’ve updated it to June 6 and tried to blame the carrier.
No, Amazon—you didn’t get it out on time. That’s on you.

BUT THEN—plot twist.
FedEx delivered today.
My Tezspire order from Accredo showed up.
Caught me mid-shower, in my still-not-monogrammed robe, because of course they did.

I thought someone finally got it right.
Then I opened the box… and they only sent one pen.
Not three.

So now I get to call the international pharmacy hotline and explain, yet again, that a full order means more than one.

So yes, Amazon and USPS are still deep in the Great Delay Games, raising rates while lowering expectations.
And even when FedEx wins the race, Accredo drops the baton at the finish line.