One last thing

Tomorrow I'll go to see a movie which is adapted from a book that had a small hand in inspiring me to climb out of the sea of warm laundry, turn off the Outlander (sorry Juline), put down the wine (well not really), stop giving up on myself and go. I think getting stuck is utterly common, comfortably miserable, conveniently restricting and completely escapable.

I remember spending 20 years saying that if I started working out I'd probably get fat. So I got a physical job and promptly gained seven pounds. See? I knew it. And I pat my round tummy and sigh. But it's all worth it. I welcome seven pounds that come with this journey. It's a constant test of total humility which verges on humiliation from one moment to the next. I said to Jody the other day that sometimes it feels cringy doing a job where I'm substantially physically inferior to my peers and then downright gutting to go directly to school afterwards where I am colossally academically inferior to my peers. There's a lighthearted joy I find in just doing it all anyway. I remember telling one teacher that I know I just have to be extra patient with myself which made her smile because it's pretty much the only way of making it in my shoes. I am just one more adult student starting from zero and fighting my way through this. What I really want to say is, go watch that Bernadette movie. Maybe you won't be crazy like me, but maybe you'll take the leap out of the laundry if you're stuck.

I've been up for 18 hours and I "just needed to write a little something so I can fall asleep." I think I'm there. Goodnight world. Big hugs. 

Another year of school

The house is so silent but their passage is marked

I see a hat and a bag... a cup of unifnished tea

I miss their giggles, their smell, our snuggles; we melt

I can't wait for their stories, their accomplishments and feats

I love to see twinkles and hold hands and make plans

To smooth hair and rub smudges and cook with some help

But sometimes... I'm tired and weary and weak 

I miss the good and the lovely; gone like the mist

A mama's not perfect, she's not always steady and true 

But the feet that come running always seem ready to start anew

An ordinary thought about perspective

Sometimes it feels like I'm doing a hard life and I'm throwing my challenges in my kids faces when they seem rather flacid and full of malaise. I do not mention the 15 years I spent flailing in warm laundry whining about sore nipples and nutella on the curtains. I do not mention the fact that I married a strikingly handsome man who provides for me with a cringing level of dedication and adoration. I do not mention the fact that although I have a tough job early in the morning, I drive a fancy car and wear an apple watch and hundred dollar headphones and fancy steel toe boots while I do it. I do not mention the fact that I go to the grocery store and find out how much I'm spending at the register because I have enough money to just buy groceries and deal with the consequences. I never tell them that. I don't mention that although I FEEL like I'm stressed out and run ragged by working a crazy schedule and going to school, I don't actually live a life governed by food stamps, WIC, food pantries or even reduced lunches at school. When I tell them that I grew up without air conditioning in a double wide in Arkansas with rust bucket vehicles they wouldn't be caught dead in, I don't mention that I didn't personally know anyone who grew up on more land, least of all in a river vally in the bend of a river. It's not about comparison, it's about perspective. They say you can either live in a state of gratitude or you can live in a state of victimhood and I feel nothing short of a gush of happiness when I arrow toward gratitude. I am grateful for true love, true friends, close children, health, opportunity to pursue a career and most of all the unconditional love of God. I know I'm a person with a lot of work to do before God can do what he wants to through me and I'm dedicated to the process no matter how hard it is. No matter what, I'll always be on the journey with my special people.