🔍 Why We Swapped Our House for An Adventure!

I’ll never forget the moment the “For Sale” sign went up in our front yard. My toddler was barefoot in the grass, holding a half-eaten banana, and I stood in the driveway holding back tears—not because I was unsure, but because I finally was. We were really doing it. But still, so much had happened in this home. It was the first house we ever bought, and I remember feeling like such an adult when we got the keys…like we had officially stepped into this whole new phase of life. My daughter was born here. Her first steps, first words, first everything. And so many leaps and bounds and transitions with my son here. I went back to school in this house, and eventually launched my business from the kitchen table. Both kids learned to ride bikes in this driveway. We made wonderful friends as neighbors. We had birthdays and meltdowns, lazy mornings and late-night talks, ordinary days and turning points all within these walls. It wasn’t just a house. It was the backdrop to some of the most significant moments in our lives. Letting go was never going to be easy. But we knew it was time.

After months (okay, years) of circling the question of where we wanted to live, we were just done trying to force it. We had spreadsheets, lists, even impromptu weekend trips to cities we thought might be “it.” We'd fall in love with one spot for a few weeks, then change our minds and start over again. We were stuck in a holding pattern, and nothing felt right. This is likely because we both come from a military background, where we move every few years, so this was our normal. Fun fact…we have lived in 10 different houses in the last 8 years. 

Back to the story… One morning, I was talking to my trainer and friend, Christine. She mentioned that she and her husband were buying an RV to live in full time. I turned to Peter, standing in our kitchen in Corpus Christi, and said, “Wait… what if we did that?” It wasn’t a long debate. A few hours later, we were walking through RVs at a dealership, laughing at how little we knew.

We thought we’d start small, maybe pull a travel trailer with Peter’s F150. But before long, we’d sold that truck and bought a diesel F350. That was the first moment it felt real—like, okay, we can’t turn back now.

Then came a twist of fate. I was on the phone with my sister Alison when she said, “I think our brother is selling his RV.” I had no idea he even had one. I called him right away, and within days, we had a deal. It had the exact layout we wanted, with a bunkroom for the kids, and it came fully stocked—tent, Blackstone and regular grill, poop tank setup, fridge, generator, surge protectors, and accessories. Peter drove 36 hours to New York to pick it up, spent two hours with my brother getting a complete walkthrough, and then drove back to Texas over the course of three days. It was a total whirlwind.

We did this for the adventure. We did it because we needed breathing room. The housing market in South Texas was busy. Over 200 homes were listed nearby, and we didn’t know if we’d be able to sell. If we couldn’t, we felt stuck. We weren’t ready to put down roots there, but we didn’t know what other options we had. When our house sold quickly—shoutout to our fantastic realtor, Toni Grimes—it felt like the green light we’d been waiting for.

We wanted freedom. Space. Flexibility. Time with our kids. Time to rest. We wanted the kind of wellness you can’t get from supplements or protocols. We wanted our kids to spend more time outside. We wanted to show them that it's okay not to have all the answers before you make a big decision. It's OK to feel unsure, try something new, and figure it out along the way. We knew there would be hiccups. We chose to jump anyway. When this all started, I created a Google Doc called “Jump In” with all our plans, pros/cons list, budget, etc., and sent it to Peter that same day.

Some things were more complicated than we expected. There’s no dishwasher, no washer, or dryer in our rig. Laundromats aren’t my favorite, but they’ve become part of the routine. The kids adjusted to sleeping in the camper without issue. I, on the other hand, did not expect cooking to be such a challenge: tiny kitchen, barely any counter space, no drawers. Every meal is a game of figuring out what fits where.

But some things felt freeing right away. Getting rid of most of our belongings was one of them. We sold or donated almost everything. The kids and I lived out of a suitcase for six weeks before officially moving into the RV, and honestly, we didn’t miss the stuff. Now we each have one towel, one sheet set, one cup, and one pan. And it works.

This new way of living has made me surprisingly creative. I’ve found numerous ways to make things work in small spaces. There’s a real sense of pride in figuring it out together. I feel proud of myself for adapting, and I feel proud of Peter for diving in and taking care of this new home on wheels—learning as he goes and fixing things on the road. In all honesty, a lot of how the RV works I still need to figure out and learn.

I will say, I feel very tall in this camper. (I’m 6'3", iykyk) When I feel cramped, I just go outside, even for a few minutes. It always helps. And honestly, that’s become part of the rhythm. We are outside more than ever. And the kids? They’re thriving. They’ve slept in tents, built campfires, made ant tunnels and mud bridges, and swum in lakes. I’ve never seen them use their imaginations this much. If we stopped RV life at the end of the summer, it would still be worth it. This is the kind of childhood I dreamed of giving them. It reminds me of growing up in the 90s—screen-free, spontaneous, full of fresh air and freedom.

We've also grown a lot closer. Living in tight quarters means there’s no avoiding each other. We've learned to be gentler, slower, more aware of each other’s space and moods. There's a rhythm and respect that comes from having to share everything—from floor space to bathroom time.

I have been able to work from home and continue to see clients virtually, and it is going smoothly! The flexibility to run my business from the road while we travel has been incredibly enjoyable. On my Zoom calls, clients and colleagues frequently ask, 'Where are you?' Based on my background, which is a fun way to start a call! 

Peter lived in the camper by himself for a few weeks while finishing work in Texas. During that time, I took the kids to visit family in New York, Mexico, and Hawaii. We’ve officially been living in the RV together for about a month now. Our first night? There was a water leak and we ended up in a hotel. Not the start we imagined—but honestly, kind of perfect. This life has already stretched us in ways we didn’t know we needed to be stretched.

Even with the hiccups, my nervous system feels calmer than it has in years. We eat more simply. We rest better. I move my body in ways that feel playful, not pressured. My digestion is on track. That’s wellness, too.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I realized something else: I had planned to launch a weekly vlog this month. I thought video would be the best way to share this season. But the closer I got, the more it felt off. I was spending more time outside, with my family, and with my thoughts. And it hit me—I didn’t want to be recording everything. I wanted to be in it. I still felt the urge to share, but in a way that feels more authentic to me. And that’s when Microbiome Moments was born! I can tell my story without constantly taking my phone out in front of my kids and instead just be present with them. My vision is for this to be a space that connects the dots between real life, gut health, motherhood, and more. Haven’t figured it all out yet. 

A family member asked me the other day if the camper felt like home. So, I asked myself…what does “home” mean to me now? Peter loves that everything we need is hitched to his truck. There’s comfort in that, and I feel it too. I love the simplicity, the movement, the lightness of less. But I still get excited thinking about what our next home might look like. I don’t think RV life is forever—but I do think it came at just the right time.

This season is teaching me how to trust my gut again. The same gut that told me we needed something different. The same gut that’s felt more aligned ever since we started living this way. It hasn’t been perfect, but it’s felt right. And that’s enough.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s this: your gut always knows. Tune into that feeling. Sometimes it's quiet, sometimes it's loud. That gut feeling is there for a reason. Slow down and lean into it.

That’s what brought us here. And I’m so glad we listened.

Thanks for being here and following along as we figure this out—RV life, wellness, motherhood, business, all of it. I’ll be sharing more moments like these each week. 

Until next time,
MaryRose

The Microbiome Mom

 Want to keep up with the adventures of The Microbiome Mom?

Follow my adventures of gut wisdom on my socials below!

Instagram.com/rosenutritionandwellness/

Facebook.com/rosenutritionandwellness

Linkedin.com/in/RoseNutrition

Pinterest.com/rosenutritionandwellness

Has your gut ever told you to make a big change before your brain was ready? I’d love to hear what it was!! Email or DM me

🫶 Need Supplements You Can Actually Trust?

As a Certified Nutritional Therapy Practitioner, I’ve curated a Fullscript Dispensary with trusted, professional-grade supplements so you can support your gut, energy, and hormones with confidence.

✅ Practitioner-vetted brands
✅ Personalized recs (if you need them)
✅ Delivered straight to your door

Start here
View My Dispensary 👉 Fullscript

💬 Feeling the nudge to take better care of your gut?

Your gut might be trying to tell you something—and I’ve got a simple place to start.

Grab my FREE 5-Day Gut Rescue Plan and start feeling better (for real this time). No overwhelm, no perfection, just doable steps that work.

Get the plan here 👉 5-Day Rescue Plan