How Moving to the Mountains Made Us Ready for Baby #2

Okay so — we did the thing where you blow up your entire life, pack your whole existence into moving boxes, and haul across state lines purely “for the vibes.” 😅 And honestly? It was, hands-down, the absolute best decision we have ever made for our little family. Because somewhere out there in all that crisp mountain air, surrounded by towering pines and wide-open skies, the three of us took a collective breath and realized something big: we were finally ready to grow our little crew.

Grab your iced coffee or an extra-large white chocolate latte, pull up a chair, and let’s talk about it. Because if you had told me a couple of years ago that a change of scenery would completely shift our entire family dynamic and open our hearts to expanding, I probably would have laughed, taken another sip of caffeine, and gone back to wiping handprints off the glass doors.

But here we are. Let me back up and tell you how we actually got here.

What made us decide to pack up our whole lives in Las Vegas?

Luke was born in Las Vegas. That city will always hold a super special place in my heart because it’s where Hubs and I truly became a family. It’s where we brought our tiny baby boy home from the hospital, where we learned how to survive on three hours of sleep, and where we navigated those wild, blurry early years of toddlerhood.

But listen… if you happen to be raising a wild, fierce, high-energy 4-year-old boy who wants to be outside from the literal second his eyes pop open at sunup until the sun goes down, living in the desert gets tough.

When summer hits southern Nevada, it doesn’t just get warm — it turns into a total furnace. We’re talking 110-plus degrees for weeks on end. The pavement gets hot enough to fry an egg, the playground slides turn into molten metal, and a whole lot of concrete and suburban sprawl starts to feel… well, pretty darn limiting.

As a self-appointed gear tester, I tried everything to make indoor desert life work. I bought every sensory bin on the market, organized the playroom with color-coded bins, set up indoor obstacle courses, and hoarded every cool toddler activity gadget I could find online. But you can only keep a 4-year-old boy cooped up inside air-conditioned rooms for so long before everyone starts bouncing off the walls. Luke didn’t want indoor sensory bins. He wanted real dirt. He wanted trees, rushing rivers, actual changing seasons, and a back yard big enough that a little boy could essentially disappear into his own imagination for hours.

Hubs and I would sit on the couch after Luke went to sleep, look at each other, and admit what we were both secretly craving: cold weather, alpine lakes, thick forests, and room to breathe.

So, we made the terrifying, thrilling decision to pull the trigger. We packed up everything — and when I say everything, I mean everything. As a gadget-obsessed boy mom, packing was an absolute circus. We packed up approximately 4,000 fishing rods, a small armory of toy guns, crates of Hot Wheels, a whole legion of remarkably loyal plastic dinosaurs, and endless car-organization gadgets to keep us sane on the road.

Our destination? Colorado Springs.

How did a 12-hour road trip with a 4-year-old actually go?

I’m not going to sugarcoat it: driving across multiple state lines with a 4-year-old, a mountain of gear, and high expectations is an absolute test of human endurance.

We had a meticulously organized vehicle fitted with backseat organizers, tablet mounts, portable trash cans, and enough snacks to feed a small army for three months. Our journey was fueled by an endless loop of “Are we there yet?”, approximately seventy-four bathroom stops, heavy snack bribes, and one wildly over-committed family road trip playlist that spanned everything from 90s throwbacks to little-kid dance anthems.

It was long. It was loud. It was chaotic.

But when we finally rolled past that iconic Welcome to Colorful Colorado sign at the state line? Listen, I may have gotten a little emotional behind my sunglasses. (Okay, fine. A lot emotional.) Looking out the window at those massive, snow-capped peaks looming in the distance, I felt this instant, overwhelming sense of relief wash over me. It felt like my lungs were expanding for the first time in years.

Why did Colorado steal our whole hearts the second we arrived?

Listen, this place was custom-made for a family like ours. My little dude is basically a tiny outdoorsman who insists on wearing head-to-toe camo practically every single day, and Colorado basically handed him the ultimate outdoor playground on a silver platter.

From day one, Colorado gave us everything we’d been dreaming about:

• Rivers everywhere to fish with his dad. Fishing with Hubs is Luke’s actual ultimate life goal — he wants to be just like his dad in every way. Watching my 4-year-old stand on a riverbank with his little fishing rod, concentrating so hard with his tongue sticking out while Hubs guides his hands… honestly, it melts me into a puddle every single time.
• Summers that don’t try to melt your skin off. Out here, summer means crisp mornings, warm sunny afternoons, and cool evening breezes. You can actually step outside at noon and breathe.
• Nature on tap 24/7. We have endless hiking trails right outside our front door, dirt tracks, alpine lakes for camping, endless cool bugs to inspect, and the whole glorious, dirty mess of real outdoorsy living.
• And the ultimate cherry on top: THE SNOW. ❄️

Our entire family is completely, unhinged-level obsessed with snow. But Luke? Luke takes his love for snow to an entirely different level: he eats it. Straight up.

He will walk out into the yard, kneel down, scoop up a giant fistful of fresh powder, and go to town like it’s the absolute best snow cone the Rocky Mountains ever produced. 😂 In the beginning, I was the paranoid mom trying to stop him, worrying about dirt or whatever else. Now? I’ve completely stopped fighting it. He’s fine. (Probably. It builds the immune system, right?)

Honestly, the mountains rolled out the absolute red carpet for us. It actually started snowing before we had even made it all the way to the new house on moving day:

What happened when we finally pulled up to our new house?

After hours on the road, we finally pulled down our new street and backed into the driveway of our house. And sitting right there in the yard, waiting just for Luke, was a fresh, pristine blanket of white snow.

I have honestly never seen a kid come unglued with sheer, unadulterated joy so fast in my life. Before we could even turn off the ignition or unbuckle our own seatbelts, Luke was begging to get out. We threw his heavy camo jacket on over his clothes, unbuckled him, and he hit that front yard running at full speed:

Standing on the driveway in the freezing cold air, watching my 4-year-old throw his head back and laugh as snowflakes fell on his face, all the stress of packing, moving, and driving vanished into thin air. We were home.

How did moving to the mountains clear space for the baby #2 conversation?

There is something truly magical about finally settling into a life that fits you.

For years in Vegas, our days felt so packed, so fast, and honestly, so hot and cramped. We were constantly managing the logistical overload of keeping an energetic boy entertained indoors, juggling gear, and trying to build a routine in an environment that didn’t quite line up with who we were at our core. We were running on a fast-paced hamster wheel, and when you’re stuck in survival mode, it’s really hard to imagine adding another human being to the mix.

But once the last moving box was unpacked, once the picture frames were hung and we had all finally caught our breath, something shifted.

The baseline stress level in our home dropped by about ninety percent. Suddenly, our weekends weren’t spent trying to escape the heat or figuring out how to burn off energy in air-conditioned play places. Instead, our weekends were spent throwing our camping gear in the back of the truck, strapping Luke into his hiking boots, and head out to explore the trails.

We started spending our evenings out on the back porch. Hubs and I would sit there with a cold drink or a hot coffee, wrapped in cozy blankets, watching Luke completely lose his mind over a single pinecone or chase a squirrel across the yard with his favorite plastic dinosaur.

And as the weeks went on, the exact same quiet, gentle feeling kept creeping in for both of us:

There’s room for one more here.

It wasn’t just physical room in the house — though having a bigger yard and extra bedrooms certainly didn’t hurt. It was room in our days. Room in our mental space. Room in our hearts. In this big, wild, beautiful, snowy new world we had built for our family, we realized we weren’t just surviving anymore — we were thriving. And we had so much extra love and energy to give.

We saw how much Luke loved exploring, how caring and adventurous he was getting, and how amazing he would be as a big brother. We pictured another little coat hanging by the back door, another pair of tiny mud boots lined up on the porch, and another little sidekick joining Luke and Hubs on their fishing trips down at the river with their fishing rods.

So one night — after Luke was fast asleep, wrapped up in his blanket after a long day of playing in the dirt — Hubs and I were sitting out on the porch under a blanket of mountain stars. No dramatic speech, no big cheesy production, no elaborate pro-and-con list.

We just looked at each other, smiled, and instantly knew what the other was thinking.

It was time to try for baby #2.

Little did I know that simply deciding “it’s time” would turn out to be the absolute easiest part of the entire journey. 💛 But listen… that is a whole other story for the next post.

Frequently asked questions

How did you help a 4-year-old adjust to a big move across state lines?

The key for us was hype and involvement! Before the move, we talked up Colorado like it was a mythical land filled with snow, giant trees, mountains, and endless streams for fishing. As a gadget lover, I also got Luke his own little “moving kit” — a mini backpack with his favorite Hot Wheels, a new camo jacket, and his very own toddler fishing rod so he felt like an active adventurer rather than just being dragged along for the ride. Keeping his normal bedtime routine consistent during the transition also worked wonders for his sense of security!

What was the hardest part about leaving Las Vegas?

Honestly, it was leaving behind the place where we became parents. Vegas is where Luke took his first steps, where we brought him home from the hospital, and where we built our initial rhythm as a family of three. There’s always a bit of nostalgia attached to the place where you first figured out how to be a mom! But the moment we saw how much better suited our everyday lifestyle was in Colorado, those bittersweet feelings turned into pure gratitude.

How did you know you were emotionally ready to expand your family?

For us, it came down to bandwidth and environment. In our old routine, we felt like we were at maximum capacity just keeping up with the day-to-day grind. But once we settled into a lifestyle that brought us genuine peace and joy, our mental and emotional capacity expanded naturally. When you look at your daily life and realize you have extra patience, extra joy, and extra space in your heart to share with another little human, that’s usually the sweetest green light you can get.