life changes – Some Punny Bunny

California, I’m Coming Back. Unfortunately.

Posted on September 4, 2026 by Eryn 🐰

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It’s sad that I’m going back to California in a week.

And honestly, I didn’t expect to feel this way about leaving Vegas.

It’s nice here. Maybe because, for once, no one really expects anything from me. I get to sleep. I get to eat. I get to try new snacks with my parents. I get to just exist.

Today, my dad and I had a movie marathon. My mom and I have been watching TV shows together. I’ve been teaching my mom how to understand Gen Z and Gen Alpha slang, which has honestly been one of the more entertaining things I’ve done lately. And my dad has his growing collection of digital cameras.

That last one made me realize something.

I think my dad is the reason I love taking pictures and videos of mundane things.

Not just the big moments. Not just birthdays, holidays, vacations, baby showers, or celebrations. The forgotten moments.

The random Wednesday moments.

Like baby Eryn practicing the violin. Eryn sitting on the floor playing with her Barbie dolls. Things that happened so often that they were completely repetitive to me. I couldn’t tell you what specific Wednesday I was practicing violin or which afternoon I was playing with my Barbies because, at the time, none of it felt important enough to remember individually.

But seeing those pictures and home videos now is different.

Those are the moments I actually want to remember.

And I think that’s why I document so many random little things now. Because eventually, the mundane becomes the memory.

So, yeah. I’m sad to leave.

Going back to California feels like another sacrifice I have to make, and I’m not exactly excited about it.

Of course, my friends are there. I love my friends. But let’s be honest: most adults don’t see their friends nearly as often as they think they will because everyone is working, exhausted, busy, or dealing with their own lives.

So going from this calm, relaxing environment where I can sleep, eat, watch movies with my dad, watch TV with my mom, and generally do absolutely nothing to a much more tense environment is not something I’m looking forward to.

Especially because we still don’t have a place.

Hopefully, before this year is over, I’ll be able to tell you honestly whether moving two separate times while heavily pregnant was better or worse than moving with an infant.

Because apparently that’s a comparison I’m going to get to make.

And listen, I’ve found a lot of places out here in Vegas that are bigger and cheaper. But if Hector wants to struggle in California, then I’ll be a supportive wife and struggle in California with him.

And when shit hits the fan, I will gladly say, “I told you so.”

Because I’m not just being dramatic when I say California is expensive.

$1,000 out here can get you a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment.

Meanwhile, $1,400 in Long Beach can get you a studio.

So when I say we’re going to struggle in California, I’m not exactly making up some hypothetical worst-case scenario.

The numbers are literally right there.

I guess that’s the frustrating part. I know what we could have here. More space. Cheaper rent. A little more breathing room.

But sometimes life isn’t about picking the option that makes the most financial sense.

Sometimes it’s about making a choice to follow your partner, supporting them even when you’re not convinced it’s the right choice, and hoping like hell it works out.

So I’ll go back to California.

I’ll unpack whatever we’re able to unpack.

I’ll figure out where we’re living.

I’ll have a baby.

And maybe, someday, I’ll look back at this whole period of my life the same way I look at those old pictures of little Eryn playing with her Barbies.

Something that felt repetitive and stressful and completely ordinary while I was living it.

Something I couldn’t imagine wanting to remember.

And then one day, I’ll realize it was one of the moments that mattered.

Lifestyle

One Year Without Straightening My Hair

Posted on July 22, 2026 by Eryn 🐰

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I just realized it’s officially been a year since I last straightened my hair.

When I first decided to start my natural hair journey, I honestly thought it was going to be so much harder than it’s been. Instead… I kind of forgot about it. It just became my normal.

I definitely think chopping all my hair off last October helped. Starting over made it feel like a fresh start instead of trying to undo years of heat damage. But if I’m being honest, my natural hair journey really started before that. By the time I consciously decided to take better care of my curls last August, I had already gone without straightening my hair since my birthday in February.

The difference is that not straightening your hair and actually taking care of your natural hair are two completely different things.

This past year I’ve actually invested in products instead of hoping for the best. Hair oils, leave-in creams, moisturizing products… and they’ve genuinely made a difference. My hair feels healthier, softer, and even here in the Las Vegas heat, it isn’t turning into the giant frizzy cloud it used to be.

I still have plenty to learn, but I’m really proud that something I thought would be difficult has become such a normal part of my routine. It’s nice to look back and realize how much progress happens when you’re not constantly checking for it.

Lifestyle

Four Years Later: From a Pregnancy Scare to Pregnancy

Posted on July 18, 2026 by Eryn 🐰

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Four years ago, I wrote one of the most vulnerable posts I’d ever published. It was messy and honest and filled with questions I didn’t have answers to. I had a pregnancy scare, and instead of thinking about a baby, I mostly thought about pregnancy itself.

Now I’m writing this while very much pregnant.

It’s funny how the same topic can feel completely different depending on the season of your life.

When I reread that old post, I don’t cringe. I actually feel a lot of compassion for twenty-five-year-old me. She wasn’t immature. She wasn’t selfish. She was just scared.

Back then, Hector and I weren’t married. We hadn’t lived together yet. We were still learning each other and trying to figure out what our future even looked like. Money was constantly stressful. We weren’t just budgeting—we were surviving. Every unexpected expense felt catastrophic.

So of course an unexpected pregnancy felt terrifying.

I remember writing that during the month I thought I might be pregnant, I never imagined a baby. I thought about sore boobs. Morning sickness. My body changing. Never reaching my goal weight. Buying maternity clothes.

I only thought about the baby after the pregnancy test came back negative.

Reading that now almost makes me laugh because this pregnancy has been the exact opposite.

Don’t get me wrong—I have still complained about pregnancy. A lot.

I’ve complained about gestational diabetes. About getting stuck with needles. About swollen feet, aching hips, acid reflux, and wondering if I’ll ever sleep comfortably again. I’ve complained about food restrictions, hormones, and the fact that my baby apparently rejects half the foods I actually want to eat.

Pregnancy still isn’t exactly my favorite thing in the world.

But this time, every miserable symptom has a face attached to it.

Every kick reminds me there’s a little person in there.

Every doctor’s appointment feels less like checking on my pregnancy and more like checking on my baby.

The pregnancy isn’t the point anymore.

The baby is.

That’s probably the biggest difference.

Another huge difference is that Hector and I are in such a different place.

We’re married now.

We’ve lived together.

We’ve learned how to be partners outside of date nights and vacations. We’ve figured out who does dishes, who takes out the trash, who panics first, and who stays calm when life gets chaotic. We’ve built routines together.

We’re not rich by any stretch of the imagination, but we’re also not living paycheck to paycheck the way we once were. We can actually breathe a little. That security changes everything.

It doesn’t erase fear.

It just makes the fear manageable.

Four years ago, I questioned whether I should even become a mother. I listed all the reasons I thought I’d fail.

My anxiety.

My depression.

My relationship with my parents.

My finances.

The possibility that one day I’d end up raising someone else’s child, too.

Those fears didn’t magically disappear.

They’re still there, just quieter.

They’re no longer the loudest voice in the room.

Instead, I spend more time thinking about what kind of mom I want to be.

I think about taking my kid to Disneyland.

To the library.

To splash pads in the summer.

To baseball games.

I think about reading bedtime stories, making Halloween costumes, helping with school projects, and introducing them to my favorite movies and books.

Four years ago, motherhood felt like an abstract concept.

Now it feels like a person I’m about to meet.

Looking back, I also realize something about Hector.

During that pregnancy scare, he panicked.

I wrote about how he immediately imagined our future while I couldn’t see past the pregnancy itself.

At the time, I thought we had completely different reactions.

Now I think we were just carrying different burdens.

He was trying to figure out how we’d survive.

I was trying to figure out how I would survive.

Today, we’re imagining that future together.

We’re still nervous.

We’re still learning.

We still don’t know exactly what we’re doing.

But the fear has transformed into anticipation.

If I could tell twenty-five-year-old me one thing, it wouldn’t be, “Don’t worry, you’ll get pregnant in four years.”

It would be this:

You don’t have to have every answer before becoming excited about your future.

Life has a funny way of giving you exactly the experiences you need before you’re ready for the next chapter.

Four years ago, I was afraid of becoming pregnant.

Today, I’m counting down the weeks until I get to hold my baby.

Same woman.

Same relationship.

Completely different life.

Lifestyle

Mid-Year Check-In: Maybe This Is What Alignment Actually Looks Like

Posted on July 2, 2026 by Eryn 🐰

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At the beginning of this year, I chose alignment as my word of the year.

I wrote that I used to think balance meant doing everything all at once. Keeping every plate spinning. Being productive all the time. But I realized balance is quieter than that. It’s about doing the right things at the right time.

I also talked about living in seasons. At the time, I thought seasons were an alternative to balance.

Now, halfway through the year, I think they’re the same thing.

And life has made sure I learned that lesson.

If you had told January me that by July I’d be seven months pregnant, less than three months away from meeting my daughter, packing up a house, preparing to move, and completely rearranging my life, I probably would’ve laughed.

That wasn’t on my vision board.

Neither was putting school on pause.

Neither was stepping away from work.

Neither was preparing to move.

At the beginning of the year, Hector and I were renting a house with a roommate. Now we’re packing up our lives and preparing for one of the biggest transitions we’ve ever faced.

For a little while, we’ll actually be living in separate states while we figure out this next chapter. If you’ve been following along, you already know the circumstances behind that decision, but that doesn’t make it any less emotional. It’s not how either of us imagined spending the final stretch of my pregnancy, but it’s the decision that makes the most sense for our family right now.

Between packing boxes, preparing for a baby who’s due in September, attending what feels like endless doctor’s appointments, and trying to process how much life can change in just six months, I’ve had to accept that I simply can’t do everything.

And maybe that’s the point.

Life rarely asks if your plans are convenient.

It just changes.

This year has looked nothing like I expected, and honestly, there have been moments where I’ve felt guilty about that. Guilty that I haven’t been reading as much. Guilty that I’m not checking goals off as quickly as I’d hoped. Guilty that so much of my energy has gone toward simply making it through the day.

But then I remembered something I wrote back in January.

Alignment means letting your priorities match the season you’re actually in.

Well…

This season isn’t about hustle.

It’s about growing a human.

It’s about preparing for motherhood.

It’s about creating a home where our daughter will take her first nap, celebrate her first holidays, and make memories we’ll tell her about years from now.

It’s about taking care of my body, even on the days when pregnancy feels exhausting. It’s about accepting that rest is productive when your body is literally building another person.

As for those ten goals I set…

Well…

I’ve completed exactly zero of them.

Not one.

And surprisingly?

I’m okay with that.

I started Iron Flame back in January and… I’m still reading it. Mommy brain is real, and every time I pick it up, I feel like I have to reread the last chapter because I’ve forgotten what happened. At this point, I think I’ve spent more time carrying the book around than actually reading it.

Running a 5K while pregnant was obviously never going to happen.

Working out three times a week turned into, “Did I remember to take my prenatal vitamin today?”

Trying twenty new recipes sounded so exciting in January. Then pregnancy food aversions hit, and suddenly half the foods I normally loved made me nauseous. Add in my gestational diabetes diagnosis—which I’ve already ranted about on this blog—and experimenting in the kitchen became the last thing I wanted to do.

The passport?

Still don’t have one.

The tattoo?

That can wait until after pregnancy.

The hikes, the spa days, the giant canvas painting…

None of them happened.

A few months ago, I think I would’ve looked at this list and called the year a failure.

Now?

I don’t.

Because the goals I actually accomplished were never on that list.

I’ve grown a healthy little girl for seven months.

I’ve made it through countless appointments, blood sugar checks, and more medical advice than I ever thought I’d receive in one year.

I’ve advocated for myself when something didn’t feel right.

I’ve prepared for a move during one of the biggest life transitions I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve made difficult decisions for my family, even when they weren’t the decisions I originally wanted to make.

None of those things can be checked off in a resolutions list.

But they’re still accomplishments.

Maybe even bigger ones than the goals I wrote down in January.

At the start of the year, I said this wasn’t about a fresh start. It was about a continuation—a softer, more honest one.

I don’t think I fully understood what I meant back then.

I do now.

Alignment isn’t about having everything under control.

It’s about giving yourself permission to change when life changes.

The second half of 2026 is going to ask even more of me than the first.

I’ll become a mom.

We’ll settle into a new home.

Hector and I will hopefully be back in the same state after this temporary season apart.

None of it will be easy.

But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m fighting the season I’m in.

I’m just trying to live it well.

And I think that’s exactly what alignment was trying to teach me all along.

Lifestyle

California Rent Might Actually Be My Villain Origin Story

Posted on May 27, 2026 by Eryn 🐰

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So… not to be dramatic, but I fear I am currently the main character in a Victorian tragedy written by a woman with tuberculosis and unresolved feelings.

At the beginning of May our landlord gave us our 60-day notice, and somehow it’s already the end of the month. July 1st is almost here. We’ve applied to places, gotten a couple nos, and every single rejection email feels like getting picked last for dodgeball except now there’s a baby involved and I cry over yogurt commercials.

And listen… I don’t think we’re getting that deposit back.

The backyard? The dogs basically turned it into an archaeological dig site. There’s also this evil vine that has completely taken over like it pays rent here. The back door is scratched up from the dogs wanting to be let in every seven seconds, and the floors — which were already questionable when we moved in — definitely did not leave this experience improved.

Honestly the whole house looks like it survived a minor historical event.

Most of the deposit was paid by our roommate anyway, so whatever comes back would mostly go to him, which leaves Hector and I in this weird, sad, oddly cinematic transitional era of life.

Which means… there’s a chance we might temporarily have to live apart.

Cue the sad indie music.

The current plan is maybe I go back home to Vegas while Hector stays in California working and saving money so we can eventually get another place together. And before anyone says “just stay with his family together,” girl… no. There’s already tension there, there’s a language barrier that makes me feel awkward and overstimulated 24/7, and I genuinely do not think being stressed and hormonal in someone else’s house while pregnant is the vibe. Plus there’s been this whole ongoing saga about Hector not wanting to move to Vegas, which honestly deserves its own season recap episode.

So now I’m potentially entering my “sent away to the countryside after falling pregnant” era.

Except instead of a countryside estate, it’s Las Vegas. Instead of hiding my shame, I’ll probably be eating fruit with Tajín in bed watching YouTube videos about celebrity drama while growing a tiny human.

Honestly? Maybe that’s healing.

I keep joking that I feel like one of those Victorian girls whose family quietly sends her away until she’s “dealt with the situation,” except my situation is literally just being married and pregnant in a terrible housing market.

Like sorry Father, I have brought dishonor upon the family by… being unable to afford California rent.

Anyway. Life feels very weird right now. Emotional. Unstable. Kinda scary. But also weirdly hopeful? Like maybe this is just one of those messy little in-between chapters before things get good again.

At least that’s what I’m telling myself while aggressively checking Zillow and eating pregnancy cravings that taste like pure Red 40 according to Hector.

Lifestyle

Stuck at the Front Desk

Posted on January 31, 2026February 2, 2026 by Eryn 🐰

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Lately, I’ve been feeling like my goal of becoming a hotel general manager might never actually happen. Somewhere along the way, the path that once felt clear has started to feel blocked, blurry, or maybe even closed off. I gave up on school, and now I can’t shake the feeling that GMs and AGMs are supposed to have degrees. Whether that’s true or not, it weighs on me. It makes every rejection, every stalled opportunity, feel like proof that I already missed my chance.

The steps themselves aren’t complicated. You start as a front desk agent, then move to front desk supervisor. After that, assistant manager or front office manager. Then assistant general manager. Eventually, general manager. I know the ladder. I’ve watched people climb it. I’ve even done parts of the work myself. But knowing the steps doesn’t mean you’re moving forward. Right now, my lack of a better job makes it harder to stay motivated, harder to believe I’m still on the path I want to be on at all.

Some days, I wonder if I’m just not suited for this course of action. Maybe this isn’t my story. Maybe I’m going to be the front desk agent who does front office management work without the title, the pay, or the recognition—and never actually moves forward. That thought hurts more than I like to admit. I’m stuck between knowing what I want and feeling like I’m slowly drifting farther away from it, unsure if I should keep pushing or accept that this might be as far as I go.