Finding Forty

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I’m Jane Elliott—wife, teacher, writer, mother, former foster parent, and a woman learning to navigate the beautiful and brutal in-between. Raised in chaos and shaped by the question, “What would my 40-year-old self say?”—I write to make sense of the past and to carve gentleness into the present. This blog is part reflection, part becoming—a space for grief, grace, and growth. One birthday, one breath, one brave word at a time.

Swamp Witch Energy

Swamp Witch Energy

I’ve been home with my son for days dealing with the most disgusting virus. Even once he started feeling better, the sensory stuff lingered—chewing and spitting out food, then wiping it on me. Our “sweet” picnic moment? Yeah, that included me getting smeared with regurgitated sandwich. I redirected him to the towel like a champ, but still… 🤢

By the time my husband got home, I was DONE. I told him I felt like a swamp witch—like I couldn’t wash the gross off of me. I felt sticky, sour, touched-out, and exhausted. I didn’t even want to eat.

HOURS later—conversation long gone from my mind—he looks at me, all sweet and loving, and says:

“I love you, my cute little swamp witch.”

Y’all. I LOST it.

Who calls their pregnant wife a swamp witch?! 😂

It’s funny now (thanks to sleep), but in the moment? Nope. I was feral. I wish I had been soft and endearing. I was not.

Marriage, man.

Motherhood, too.

We’re all just doing our best in the bog.

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