I'm tired. My kitchen is ALWAYS a mess. I have laundry to do. I need to go grocery shopping. I haven't been for a run in months. This post-partum bod still looks pregnant. I have written two blog drafts, one of which was poorly written but published anyway. I haven't read any books at all this year. Since becoming a mom free time is elusive. There's just so much that needs to get done. I often wonder what I did with all my time before Knox. At the same time, I often wonder how I lived so long without him. Before motherhood, I always wondered what it would be like to be a mom, so even though I can never fully convey the weight of it, these are the things I've learned about motherhood.
Motherhood is...
... a vacuum that sucks up all of your time and energy, but taking care of him is the best way to spend my time.
... staring at your kid because he is the most beautiful, precious thing on this earth.
... waking up a 3am staring at the baby monitor because you know any second you'll hear the cries, and then just when it seems he isn't waking up, you drift off to sleep again only to be woken abruptly to his cries ten minutes later.
... wanting to make all the baby food, but realizing ain't nobody got time for dat.
... wanting to wake him up from a nap because I miss him.
... wishing he would get tired enough for nap time because momma needs a break.
... looking at his adorable smile with his adorable two bottom teeth and wondering how you ever lived without him.
...worrying if he will ever sleep through the night.
... worrying that I'm doing everything wrong.
... clapping and cheering when he finally makes a piece of food into his mouth.
... going 50 shades of ridiculous trying to get him to smile for a picture.
... not showering because you'd rather sleep for those extra, sacred 20 minutes.
... wanting to do all the things: clean, cook, write, read, play with the baby, go on adventures, learn a new skill, but laughing because you know you don't have time for any of it.
... worrying when to introduce certain solids and how often and how much he should be eating and is that diaper rash because of the blueberries or the carrots?
... wondering how on earth he could possibly be awake right now.
... beaming with pride when he learns to roll over and crawl and pull himself up and talk.
... saying sentences you never thought you'd have to (i.e. "Son, do not put the dog's tail in your mouth. No, you cannot get in the freezer.").
... reading things online and convincing yourself you're screwing it all up.
... knowing everything about your little human but actually knowing nothing at the same time.
... melting every time you see his smile and hear his sweet laugh.
... knowing that your kid really is the cutest kid ever.
... crying a little every day I have to leave him to go to work.
... exciting and hard and wonderful and heart-warming and confusing and frustrating and warm all at once.
... praying that God will save him and he will grow up knowing and serving the Lord.
... thanking God every second for this little gift because even when it's 2am and I'm deliriously tired, there's no other face I'd rather be looking at.
Motherhood is an unbelievably sweet privilege and gift from the Lord.
Even if everything else in life is going wrong, when he squeezes my neck and sucks on my chin to kiss me, I know I'm doing something right. My sweet Knox, I love being your mama.
Happy Mother's Day, ladies!
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Saturday, May 13, 2017
13 Reasons Why and why you should avoid it
It's all over the internet. It's all kids talk about in the classroom. The new netflix craze, 13 Reasons Why is everywhere! Which is why I'm inspired to add my two cents, as I'm sure you've read everyone else's. I'm sure you've heard the premise, right? Hannah Baker, a junior in high school, kills herself but before she does, she makes 13 tapes, each of which contains the story of a person who plays a role in her suicide. The theory behind the show is great; watch how you treat others because you never know what they are going through. But it plays out the themes of suicide and depression and bullying and sex and all the heavy things teenagers navigate on a daily basis in a less than hopeful way. I can't tell you how many times I hear my junior high kids talking about this. And each time I'm astounded that their parents have no idea what it is.
If you are the parent of a teenager, WATCH. THIS. SHOW. I can almost guarantee your kid has already seen it or at the very least heard about it and you need to have the hard conversations with them. They should not be watching it. Or at least shouldn't be watching it alone.
And this is why:
1. It encourages kids to be the victim. It ignores Hannah's responsibility in her own suicide. If you've seem the show, you know that Hannah endures a lot of pain and suffering; however, the show washes over the fact that Hannah was responsible for taking her own life.
2. There was one message I got loud and clear: Adults are clueless. I can't say Hannah's parents don't care because it's obvious they do, but they assumed everything was fine. It seems they didn't know how to care about their daughter. And don't get me started on the counselor. I'm sorry but that guy is an idiot. He is just a puppet, dancing under the strings of the students in control. The show wants you to believe that adults don't understand the emotional fragility of teenagers and therefore doesn't know how to treat them, which sends the message that adults don't get it. You're on your own, kids.
3. Suicide is the only way to leave a legacy. While Hannah was alive she was targeted, overlooked, rejected, ignored, even. Only after her death, did people listen. What message does this send? The only way to get people's attention, the only way to be seen, heard, or cared about, is to end your life. Is that really the message we want our kids to hear?
4. What is truth? Throughout the series, you see teens who have listened to Hannah's tape, but refuse to believe "Hannah's truth" about themselves. Several times you see them arguing that "Hannah's truth is not my truth." Out of self preservation, they refuse to admit what actually happened. This sends yet another message that truth is anything you want it to be. That we're all just searching for our own truth to latch on to, as though it is a matter of choosing the right outfit. In this way of thinking, truth is fleeting; anyone can make their own. As a Christian this breaks my heart because everyone should know and believe the only truth: that Jesus is our rescuer! The only truth that all these kids in the show need to know is that Jesus gave himself so that we could have life! A helper and healer in times of pain.
5. There is no hope.Besides the negative themes, the show is just heavy. It's just hard to watch sometimes. Bullying, foul language, sex, alcohol, rape, pain, suicide. Young teens should not be exposed to such emotionally heavy topics that physiologically they cannot yet process, especially when there is no message of hope. Essentially, high school, and everyone in it, will kill you. Pain is everywhere, and the only thing you can do is suffer through it or end your own life. While I do think, high school comes with its fair share of hard ships and pain, it is not always this terrible!
5. There is no hope.Besides the negative themes, the show is just heavy. It's just hard to watch sometimes. Bullying, foul language, sex, alcohol, rape, pain, suicide. Young teens should not be exposed to such emotionally heavy topics that physiologically they cannot yet process, especially when there is no message of hope. Essentially, high school, and everyone in it, will kill you. Pain is everywhere, and the only thing you can do is suffer through it or end your own life. While I do think, high school comes with its fair share of hard ships and pain, it is not always this terrible!
I've read the book a few years ago, so naturally, when the series came out, I wanted to watch it to compare. The Netflix Hannah is much easier to empathize with. Hearing her voice and seeing her life on screen, albeit fiction, seemed real. Kids can see their own struggles in these characters. They see similar interactions in their everyday life, which is scary. If I can be drawn in so easily and relate to Hannah so well (even though that stage of life is not my reality), it's no surprise that kids love her. That's whole point, right? Hannah Baker is everywhere and everyone. However, this theme of watch how you treat others gets lost in the darkness of deep sin portrayed on the screen. Even kids with "perfect" families and "Christian"values think about suicide. I so wish Hannah would have talked to her parents. Or that her parents would have been persistent enough to engage their daughter about what's going on in her heart. I wish there were some form of light in this dark story. Parents, while your children are under your roof, you have the opportunity or responsibility, rather, to cultivate the culture of your kids' hearts. Don't let them get lost in the darkness of sin.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Dear Knox, I can't wait to tell you...
37 weeks feels large. Heartburn, swelling, incessant pressure on my bladder, the constant state of wondering if I'll be able to move out of this position, and my skin feeling stretched to the point of explosion. Physically, everything feels harder - hard to move, hard to breathe. But then, I feel a kick in the ribs or a knee scraping my belly button from the inside, and the other discomforts instantly fade. I couldn't feel more blessed to carry life. As my due date approaches, I'm filled with excitement, fear, love, hope, and anxiety all rolled into one ball of ambiguity. Before my son makes his grand arrival, I want to cherish the discomforts, the heartburn, the flutters of life inside me, the time I've shared with him the last nine months as I've felt him grow, because soon my life will look very, very different.
(I wrote the first part of this in Galveston, so just... OK?!)
Dear Knox,
As I stare at the ocean waves, rolling and breaking over one another, I can't help but notice my thoughts doing the same.
I've carried you with me physically for nine months, but I've been anticipating you for much longer. Now, your birthday is nearing, and your dad and I can't wait to see your sweet face.
For nine months, you've grown and stretched in my belly, pushing all my organs out of your way and settling your way into my heart.
There are some things I wish you could know. Maybe one day I'll share with you this letter but for now, I wish I could tell you...
There are some things I wish you could know. Maybe one day I'll share with you this letter but for now, I wish I could tell you...
I wish I could tell you how elated I was when you showed up as two faded pink lines.
After five negative pregnancy tests over the course of two weeks and a lot of mixed emotions, I was ready to move on and try for you the next month, even though the disappointment that you still weren't here settled over me like a fog. I wanted you in my timing.
I wish I could tell you about my conversation with God in that moment of uncertainty. I'd tell you that He was teaching me something. That I would be OK with or without you, because He is always enough.
I'd tell you that through streaming tears and worship on Sunday, November 29, 2015, I felt God's peace wrap me up like warm blanket. I will never forget that day. I knew you would come in His time, that he would bless me with the gift of motherhood when I could realize that He sustains my every need. I hope one day you know the overwhelming peace that can only come from your Heavenly Father, son.
I'd tell you that through streaming tears and worship on Sunday, November 29, 2015, I felt God's peace wrap me up like warm blanket. I will never forget that day. I knew you would come in His time, that he would bless me with the gift of motherhood when I could realize that He sustains my every need. I hope one day you know the overwhelming peace that can only come from your Heavenly Father, son.
I wish I could tell you about the joy - that's still not a strong enough word - the feeling of my heart falling from my chest when, later that November day, you showed up on a stick that I peed on. I wish you could know in that instant what I felt. That God was giving me a piece of His goodness by putting your life in my womb.
I wish I could tell you that I secretly liked throwing up every morning because it meant you were healthy.
When I saw you on the sonogram screen, and you showed us you were a boy, my eyes filled with tears. That was the first time I could imagine you as my son. It finally felt real. I felt like I knew some part of your identity, which let me dream about the young man you could become.
The next time I saw you on that screen, I stared in awe of God's perfect design, as the camera scrolled over your tiny spine and your perfect face and your long, bony legs. I couldn't believe God entrusted me with your little life.
I wish I could tell you that with every flutter you remind me of my new purpose. With every kick, I imagine your future as a soccer star or break dancer. With every roll, I imagine us as a family dancing in the living room or you riding our greyhound like a horse. With every punch, you remind me how much you are growing.
I wish I could tell you how excited I am to watch your dad become a dad. He loves you so much already. I can already picture him pastoring you and teaching you about the love of God and His word. I imagine him lovingly disciplining you and teaching you right from wrong. I imagine you on his shoulders at the zoo, with your matching hipster outfits. I imagine him tucking you into bed while I eavesdrop on your conversations about God and life. I'm realizing I'm outnumbered when I imagine the pranks and jokes he will involve you in against me. Even still, I can't wait to watch your bond unfold.
I wish I could tell you how excited and scared I am to mom. I can't wait to rock you to sleep and calm you after nightmares. I can't wait to celebrate your first goal and encourage you when you feel defeated. I can't wait to go on mother son dates and embarrass you in public. I can't wait to retaliate against you and your dad. Although these are great things, I also know that parenting you will be hard. That's why I'm scared. I don't want to ruin you, but I am a sinner. I won't get it right all the time. I will inevitably fail you and knowing that hurts me. I know I will get frustrated and overreact and smother you and leave you alone and yell, but I pray for grace. Even though we both know I'll make mistakes, you must know that I could never stop loving you.
As your mother, despite my imperfections and by the grace of God, I promise to love you as best I can, to raise you in a gospel-centered home, to have high expectations but to be gracious and empathetic when you fail to meet them. I promise to listen when you are being a dramatic, self-involved teenager but also to challenge you to seek your identity in Christ. I promise to try to be nice to your girlfriends, but just know that none of them will be good enough for you. I promise to trust your decisions but to offer guidance when needed. I promise to disciple your heart and seek the sincerity behind your words. I promise to apologize when I fail you, so you can see that I am human.
As many promises as I can make to you, nothing compares to the love of your heavenly Father, which is why I pray for you often. I am praying now that God saves you. I know that he's made you fearfully and wonderfully in His image. I pray that He will call you to something great that brings glory to Him. I pray that your heart always be intertwined with His, that your passion would be to love people as Christ loves you. I pray that you would always see yourself as a son of God and ignore the lies Satan will whisper. I pray that by God's grace you would be a light to all those you meet. I pray that you have a compassion and empathy for those who are lost and that God would give you a boldness to step out in His name to bring them to Him. I pray that you could offer grace and understanding to others better than your mom does. And I pray that you always know how much your dad and I love you. That we will never stop hugging you, kissing you, embarrassing you, encouraging you, getting frustrated with you, listening to you, and praying for you.
Sweet Knox,
I can't wait to tell you how much I love you.
I can't wait to tell you how excited I am that you are mine.
I can't wait to tell you about this letter.
Now, please, bro, GET OUT OF MY BELLY!
I wish I could tell you that I secretly liked throwing up every morning because it meant you were healthy.
When I saw you on the sonogram screen, and you showed us you were a boy, my eyes filled with tears. That was the first time I could imagine you as my son. It finally felt real. I felt like I knew some part of your identity, which let me dream about the young man you could become.
The next time I saw you on that screen, I stared in awe of God's perfect design, as the camera scrolled over your tiny spine and your perfect face and your long, bony legs. I couldn't believe God entrusted me with your little life.
I wish I could tell you that with every flutter you remind me of my new purpose. With every kick, I imagine your future as a soccer star or break dancer. With every roll, I imagine us as a family dancing in the living room or you riding our greyhound like a horse. With every punch, you remind me how much you are growing.
I wish I could tell you how excited I am to watch your dad become a dad. He loves you so much already. I can already picture him pastoring you and teaching you about the love of God and His word. I imagine him lovingly disciplining you and teaching you right from wrong. I imagine you on his shoulders at the zoo, with your matching hipster outfits. I imagine him tucking you into bed while I eavesdrop on your conversations about God and life. I'm realizing I'm outnumbered when I imagine the pranks and jokes he will involve you in against me. Even still, I can't wait to watch your bond unfold.
I wish I could tell you how excited and scared I am to mom. I can't wait to rock you to sleep and calm you after nightmares. I can't wait to celebrate your first goal and encourage you when you feel defeated. I can't wait to go on mother son dates and embarrass you in public. I can't wait to retaliate against you and your dad. Although these are great things, I also know that parenting you will be hard. That's why I'm scared. I don't want to ruin you, but I am a sinner. I won't get it right all the time. I will inevitably fail you and knowing that hurts me. I know I will get frustrated and overreact and smother you and leave you alone and yell, but I pray for grace. Even though we both know I'll make mistakes, you must know that I could never stop loving you.
As your mother, despite my imperfections and by the grace of God, I promise to love you as best I can, to raise you in a gospel-centered home, to have high expectations but to be gracious and empathetic when you fail to meet them. I promise to listen when you are being a dramatic, self-involved teenager but also to challenge you to seek your identity in Christ. I promise to try to be nice to your girlfriends, but just know that none of them will be good enough for you. I promise to trust your decisions but to offer guidance when needed. I promise to disciple your heart and seek the sincerity behind your words. I promise to apologize when I fail you, so you can see that I am human.
As many promises as I can make to you, nothing compares to the love of your heavenly Father, which is why I pray for you often. I am praying now that God saves you. I know that he's made you fearfully and wonderfully in His image. I pray that He will call you to something great that brings glory to Him. I pray that your heart always be intertwined with His, that your passion would be to love people as Christ loves you. I pray that you would always see yourself as a son of God and ignore the lies Satan will whisper. I pray that by God's grace you would be a light to all those you meet. I pray that you have a compassion and empathy for those who are lost and that God would give you a boldness to step out in His name to bring them to Him. I pray that you could offer grace and understanding to others better than your mom does. And I pray that you always know how much your dad and I love you. That we will never stop hugging you, kissing you, embarrassing you, encouraging you, getting frustrated with you, listening to you, and praying for you.
Sweet Knox,
I can't wait to tell you how much I love you.
I can't wait to tell you how excited I am that you are mine.
I can't wait to tell you about this letter.
Now, please, bro, GET OUT OF MY BELLY!
Monday, September 7, 2015
Two Weeks Down, Writers in Progress.
And just like that, the second week of school is over. A new group of faces has walked into my life, and I must say that I feel very encouraged about this year after the great start we have had. I've enjoyed learning about and getting to know my new littles.
Last week we started figurative language. On Friday, I had groups create examples of certain literary devices. Each group received a different picture and was asked to create examples of literary devices based on their picture. And these kids came to work! Once they got settled in and thought about their picture, they got into it, and I sat back and watched them work together to invent some really thoughtful responses.
Here are just a couple of the ones they came up with:
- The sun's rays were bullets shooting through the trees.
- The trail was a gold stairway leading to the finish line.
- The mile-high mountain made skyscrapers look small.
We also turned in 6 word memoirs on Friday, which is one of my absolute favorite lessons. This assignment is like a window into their souls. Telling a story with a limit of 6 words forces you to be creative and lay your heart on paper. And these guys, again, rose to the challenge:
- We never learn, until we see.
- We don't have to be ordinary.
- Still a kid. To be continued...
- Don't say it. Come show it.
- Small in size, not in heart.
- Luck does not come from cookies.
-Life's like shadows; you control it.
- Let the notes take you away.
- We're all stories in the end.
- Lights, camera, wait a second, action.
- Words express things I never could.
- I see good in every evil.
- Wait. What are we doing again?
- Laughing is my life-long infection.
- When it rains, play in puddles.
- If you talk, you're a goner.
And mine:
- Long hours. Feet screaming. Worth it.
These are only a few but if these responses are any indication, I think we'll have a year full of deep thinking, creative writing, and meaningful collaboration. All this and our first volleyball game on Tuesday? Let's do this 7th graders!
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Oceans and kayaks and school, Oh My!
As I sit on my patio this morning typing this blog and reflecting on my summer, the world feels a little quieter. Its breathing is a little deeper. Its heart beats a little slower. My tree shelters me from the stifling rays while casting a cool, web-like shadow, pockets of sunlight seeping through. The morning breeze greets me with tranquility rather than menacing temps. If just for this fleeting moment, all seems right with the world. I can see the beauty of God in the minute details of the leaves and the clouds and the birds. But soon reality will catch up, and life will resume at a dizzying pace.
But first reflection time. My favorite. Summer is a time for new. Newly availed time, new ideas, new schedules, new goals, new experiences. And this summer didn't disappoint. Vacations, running, new friends? It's been an adventure, some of which is just too fun not to share.
1. Parasailing in Destin, FL. I have a Guatemalan friend whose "Abuelita" described parasailing as "delicious," and she was right. We did take our GoPro up with us, and maybe one day we'll actually upload the video somewhere but for now you'll have to take my word for it. If you've ever been, you know that they put you in a harness and clip you to the parachute where you are lifted off the back of the boat. On the way up, I was very aware that these little carabiner hooks were the only thing keeping me from plunging 400 feet into shark-infested waters. After a while, my fingers finally relaxed their grip from the harness and my knuckles regained their usual color. I settled in for the ride long enough to sing Aladdin's "A Whole New World" (I mean, who wouldn't?!). Everything just felt still and quiet suspended in time above the earth. While it was difficult to drive away the thought of imminent death, the views were incredible - the blended colors of the sea and sky and beach reminded me of the way a snow cone tastes. Delicious, right?!
2. Kayaking in Destin. Specifically kayaking with a spouse. To anyone seeking marriage, I would strongly recommend tandem kayaking as part of your pre-marital counseling. You learn a lot about yourself as well as your partner. As we began paddling out through the incessant waves, we couldn't quite get our rhythm down. Since I was in the front, I couldn't see how many strokes Kyle was giving from the back. I paddled two strokes to the right to his one on the left. Instead of gliding out to the deep blue, we paddled in circles. Then, out of nowhere, we saw a manatee! A real live sea cow drifting right before us! Of course, we tried to follow the dark shadow; instead, more circles. So, we conceded, waving goodbye to our new fat friend as he floated across the shallow ocean. Frustration took hold and soon, Kyle took the reigns solo, assigning me GoPro duty. This worked out well for me since my job had gotten much less strenuous and a lot more fun. All of a sudden, we weren't paddling a merry-go-round but were headed to our destination: the deep blue. I took the opportunity to record the dolphin we saw and commentate in my best Steve Irwin voice. Eventually, we had to turn around, and since Kyle's strength was dissolving, I had to regain my responsibility. Apparently, I don't know how to paddle because as soon as I started, the circling resumed. Frustration ensued again and we were forced to figure out how to work together. Lord, bless my husband. We did make it back alive, and I will say that we did NOT capsize. That's gotta count for something, right?
3. New church. Over the course of the summer we joined a new church and new home group, and we are so excited to be a part of them! God's working big through them in our lives.
4. Kentucky. Just a couple weekends ago, to finish out the summer, we paid a visit to Kyle's Aunt and Uncle in Kentucky where we got a preview of the country life. Corn fields, Fishin', swimmin', shooting' guns, makin' s'mores - that's my kind of living. Did I mention 68 degree temps? Be jealous.
From acclimating myself to a new running regimen to kayaking with manatees to fishing to making new friends, it's been a productive season. At the same time, our new couch cushions are well contoured to the shape of my rear. Yes, summer also calls for laziness, and it would be wrong not to oblige. AND I DON'T FEEL A BIT GUILTY.
Now, as all good things must, summer is ending. From most teachers, you may hear a chorus of the school-starting blues, but I am ready to get back into my room and start preparing. I'm ready to make some changes. I'm ready to build relationships. I'm ready to make a fool of myself and learn and write and blog and love. While I've enjoyed my season of rest, I'm ready to get back in the game - to get back to my second home. It may feel a little like the kayak again, wavy and inconsistent, going in circles, getting frustrated, but that is life. Bring on the challenge, 2015/16 school year. I'm ready for you.
But first reflection time. My favorite. Summer is a time for new. Newly availed time, new ideas, new schedules, new goals, new experiences. And this summer didn't disappoint. Vacations, running, new friends? It's been an adventure, some of which is just too fun not to share.
1. Parasailing in Destin, FL. I have a Guatemalan friend whose "Abuelita" described parasailing as "delicious," and she was right. We did take our GoPro up with us, and maybe one day we'll actually upload the video somewhere but for now you'll have to take my word for it. If you've ever been, you know that they put you in a harness and clip you to the parachute where you are lifted off the back of the boat. On the way up, I was very aware that these little carabiner hooks were the only thing keeping me from plunging 400 feet into shark-infested waters. After a while, my fingers finally relaxed their grip from the harness and my knuckles regained their usual color. I settled in for the ride long enough to sing Aladdin's "A Whole New World" (I mean, who wouldn't?!). Everything just felt still and quiet suspended in time above the earth. While it was difficult to drive away the thought of imminent death, the views were incredible - the blended colors of the sea and sky and beach reminded me of the way a snow cone tastes. Delicious, right?!
2. Kayaking in Destin. Specifically kayaking with a spouse. To anyone seeking marriage, I would strongly recommend tandem kayaking as part of your pre-marital counseling. You learn a lot about yourself as well as your partner. As we began paddling out through the incessant waves, we couldn't quite get our rhythm down. Since I was in the front, I couldn't see how many strokes Kyle was giving from the back. I paddled two strokes to the right to his one on the left. Instead of gliding out to the deep blue, we paddled in circles. Then, out of nowhere, we saw a manatee! A real live sea cow drifting right before us! Of course, we tried to follow the dark shadow; instead, more circles. So, we conceded, waving goodbye to our new fat friend as he floated across the shallow ocean. Frustration took hold and soon, Kyle took the reigns solo, assigning me GoPro duty. This worked out well for me since my job had gotten much less strenuous and a lot more fun. All of a sudden, we weren't paddling a merry-go-round but were headed to our destination: the deep blue. I took the opportunity to record the dolphin we saw and commentate in my best Steve Irwin voice. Eventually, we had to turn around, and since Kyle's strength was dissolving, I had to regain my responsibility. Apparently, I don't know how to paddle because as soon as I started, the circling resumed. Frustration ensued again and we were forced to figure out how to work together. Lord, bless my husband. We did make it back alive, and I will say that we did NOT capsize. That's gotta count for something, right?
3. New church. Over the course of the summer we joined a new church and new home group, and we are so excited to be a part of them! God's working big through them in our lives.
4. Kentucky. Just a couple weekends ago, to finish out the summer, we paid a visit to Kyle's Aunt and Uncle in Kentucky where we got a preview of the country life. Corn fields, Fishin', swimmin', shooting' guns, makin' s'mores - that's my kind of living. Did I mention 68 degree temps? Be jealous.
From acclimating myself to a new running regimen to kayaking with manatees to fishing to making new friends, it's been a productive season. At the same time, our new couch cushions are well contoured to the shape of my rear. Yes, summer also calls for laziness, and it would be wrong not to oblige. AND I DON'T FEEL A BIT GUILTY.
Now, as all good things must, summer is ending. From most teachers, you may hear a chorus of the school-starting blues, but I am ready to get back into my room and start preparing. I'm ready to make some changes. I'm ready to build relationships. I'm ready to make a fool of myself and learn and write and blog and love. While I've enjoyed my season of rest, I'm ready to get back in the game - to get back to my second home. It may feel a little like the kayak again, wavy and inconsistent, going in circles, getting frustrated, but that is life. Bring on the challenge, 2015/16 school year. I'm ready for you.
Monday, July 27, 2015
What are you thinking?
So I've decided to run a half marathon. Yes, I'm insane. After college, I had this idea that I would be super fit and run all the time. I knew I'd want a way to still compete, and since volleyball was over, I'd take up running. I didn't become that girl exactly, but the thought never left. Since then, running a half has been on my bucket list, so I figured this year would be the time to do it before I start getting old and broken and full of children.
At the beginning of the summer, I found a 10-week half marathon training plan that I liked and decided to get running. The only prerequisite to the plan was that you had to be able to run 3 miles or 30 minutes comfortably as a result of training for 4-5 weeks prior. Well, I hadn't "trained" consistently for 5 weeks, but I was in decent enough shape that I could run 3 miles without dying. So I figured, what the hay? I did get a little nervous when it had me running 6 miles within the first week, but I survived.
The first few weeks went along swimmingly. I was getting up early-ish, getting my miles in, eating healthier, and feeling good. Thankfully, the abundant shade along my route kept me slightly cooler than boiling. I've had to get a little creative to work in some water breaks along the way. Now, I'm on week 7, and the miles keep accumulating. Yesterday, I ran my first 10 miler. A question I've heard and something I have often wondered of other runners is what goes through your head when you run that far? Well, folks, let me just tell you.
67 thoughts that flash like popcorn in my head during a ten mile run:
1. MILE 1: Ugh geez, no one will know if I just shorten today's run to one mile, right?
2. Why do my legs already hurt?
3. Am I going too fast? That runner's world article said my mile pace should be about 2 minutes slower than my normal pace.
4. 9:54. I guess that's OK. I hope I don't crap out later.
5. Why is my nose running?
6. MILE 2: Alright, this is kinda nice. Taking things slow is working.
7. Ah trees, you are like a giant natural umbrella. Just keep blocking that sun.
8. I'll just settle in and sing along with my worship tunes.
9. This down hill part makes me feel like I'm flying! But don't worry runner's world, I still feel slow...
10. MILE 3: OK hills, don't you know I have 10 MILES! You're gonna have to lighten up..
11. Don't look at me like that, Mr. Driver in your little air conditioned Honda, it is perfectly normal and not at all gross that I am blowing my nose in my sweat-soaked shirt.
12. Slightly winded from those freaking mountains, but we're still good everybody. Feel the burn!
13. So, I should be coming up on that water bottle I hid in the grass sometime soon...
14. I hope no one was trying to "help the environment" and threw it away.
15. Oh no, what if it's not there?
16. What if I can't find it?
17. I'm gonna die.
18. It's OK. I hid another one around mile 6. I can make it.
19. But what if that's gone?
20. WATER!!! Yay! It's still here.
21. Remember runner's world? You said it's OK to take walk breaks.
22. Everything is better with water.
23. Get on my head, ice cold water!
24. Alright MILE 4, I'll start running now.
25. I really hate running with the water bottle.
26. I'll just chug it and be done.
27. Ugh... crap. Water logged.
28. Alright, everybody, we're doing good. Let's settle in - nice steady pace.
29. I feel a little slower, but I'm still running!
30. I will not walk. I will not walk. I will not walk.
31. 5 MILES DONE!! Half way there..
32. Trees? Shade? Where did you go? I thought you had my back...
33. Ughghghgh. My body is bouncing.
34. Good pace. I'm still alive.
35. It's kinda hot.
36. 6 miles! I'm cruising.
37. Almost to water.
38. I hope it's still there.
39. Crap, where is it?
40. Why does my nose keep running?
41. WATER!!
42. And walk break. Water, get on my head!
43. Here we go again. Water is so refreshing!
43. Just 3.5 miles left? I've run that before. I got this.
44. Oh no, more hills.
45. Jesus, please get me through this run. Grant me strength.
46. Legs, don't wimp out on me, you are almost over this mountain... Oh it doesn't end!
47. It's the climb! - Miley get out of here!
48. Oh downhill, how happy I am to see you!
49. But not for long.
50. And back up.
51. 8 MILES down?! Pssh. 2 more miles - that's nothing!
52. Let's pick it up legs. That's right.
53. Look who's beastin' it up this hill! Thanks for the energy, Jesus!
54. The faster I run, the faster I get WATER!!
55. Yes! One more mile! Easy peasy.
56. Uh... legs? What happened? We're not done.
57. You will not quit. You will not quit. You will not quit.
58. Still a half mile...
59. This is the end... of my life.
60. My feet are tingling... is that normal?
61. I can feel my body dying a little at a time.
62. Don't quit. Don't quit. Don't quit.
63. One foot... in front of... the other...
64. God? Is that you calling me home?
65. Time: 1 hour 54 minutes 18 seconds. Distance: 10 miles.
66. AHHH!! What just happened? Do I get water now?
67. But my legs don't work.
The important thing is I finished, and I'm not gonna lie; I feel pretty proud of myself. You never know what you can do until you do it. For this reason, I love running. I love that it gives me an outlet to break down walls. It's never easy, but everyday I feel myself getting stronger. I start out every run praising God for giving me the physical and mental ability to push through pain and finish the run. In just a few weeks, I'll be testing new boundaries of physical exertion, but I fully trust that my Creator will pull me to the finish line just as He has in every other run.
At the beginning of the summer, I found a 10-week half marathon training plan that I liked and decided to get running. The only prerequisite to the plan was that you had to be able to run 3 miles or 30 minutes comfortably as a result of training for 4-5 weeks prior. Well, I hadn't "trained" consistently for 5 weeks, but I was in decent enough shape that I could run 3 miles without dying. So I figured, what the hay? I did get a little nervous when it had me running 6 miles within the first week, but I survived.
The first few weeks went along swimmingly. I was getting up early-ish, getting my miles in, eating healthier, and feeling good. Thankfully, the abundant shade along my route kept me slightly cooler than boiling. I've had to get a little creative to work in some water breaks along the way. Now, I'm on week 7, and the miles keep accumulating. Yesterday, I ran my first 10 miler. A question I've heard and something I have often wondered of other runners is what goes through your head when you run that far? Well, folks, let me just tell you.
67 thoughts that flash like popcorn in my head during a ten mile run:
1. MILE 1: Ugh geez, no one will know if I just shorten today's run to one mile, right?
2. Why do my legs already hurt?
3. Am I going too fast? That runner's world article said my mile pace should be about 2 minutes slower than my normal pace.
4. 9:54. I guess that's OK. I hope I don't crap out later.
5. Why is my nose running?
6. MILE 2: Alright, this is kinda nice. Taking things slow is working.
7. Ah trees, you are like a giant natural umbrella. Just keep blocking that sun.
8. I'll just settle in and sing along with my worship tunes.
9. This down hill part makes me feel like I'm flying! But don't worry runner's world, I still feel slow...
10. MILE 3: OK hills, don't you know I have 10 MILES! You're gonna have to lighten up..
11. Don't look at me like that, Mr. Driver in your little air conditioned Honda, it is perfectly normal and not at all gross that I am blowing my nose in my sweat-soaked shirt.
12. Slightly winded from those freaking mountains, but we're still good everybody. Feel the burn!
13. So, I should be coming up on that water bottle I hid in the grass sometime soon...
14. I hope no one was trying to "help the environment" and threw it away.
15. Oh no, what if it's not there?
16. What if I can't find it?
17. I'm gonna die.
18. It's OK. I hid another one around mile 6. I can make it.
19. But what if that's gone?
20. WATER!!! Yay! It's still here.
21. Remember runner's world? You said it's OK to take walk breaks.
22. Everything is better with water.
23. Get on my head, ice cold water!
24. Alright MILE 4, I'll start running now.
25. I really hate running with the water bottle.
26. I'll just chug it and be done.
27. Ugh... crap. Water logged.
28. Alright, everybody, we're doing good. Let's settle in - nice steady pace.
29. I feel a little slower, but I'm still running!
30. I will not walk. I will not walk. I will not walk.
31. 5 MILES DONE!! Half way there..
32. Trees? Shade? Where did you go? I thought you had my back...
33. Ughghghgh. My body is bouncing.
34. Good pace. I'm still alive.
35. It's kinda hot.
36. 6 miles! I'm cruising.
37. Almost to water.
38. I hope it's still there.
39. Crap, where is it?
40. Why does my nose keep running?
41. WATER!!
42. And walk break. Water, get on my head!
43. Here we go again. Water is so refreshing!
43. Just 3.5 miles left? I've run that before. I got this.
44. Oh no, more hills.
45. Jesus, please get me through this run. Grant me strength.
46. Legs, don't wimp out on me, you are almost over this mountain... Oh it doesn't end!
47. It's the climb! - Miley get out of here!
48. Oh downhill, how happy I am to see you!
49. But not for long.
50. And back up.
51. 8 MILES down?! Pssh. 2 more miles - that's nothing!
52. Let's pick it up legs. That's right.
53. Look who's beastin' it up this hill! Thanks for the energy, Jesus!
54. The faster I run, the faster I get WATER!!
55. Yes! One more mile! Easy peasy.
56. Uh... legs? What happened? We're not done.
57. You will not quit. You will not quit. You will not quit.
58. Still a half mile...
59. This is the end... of my life.
60. My feet are tingling... is that normal?
61. I can feel my body dying a little at a time.
62. Don't quit. Don't quit. Don't quit.
63. One foot... in front of... the other...
64. God? Is that you calling me home?
65. Time: 1 hour 54 minutes 18 seconds. Distance: 10 miles.
66. AHHH!! What just happened? Do I get water now?
67. But my legs don't work.
The important thing is I finished, and I'm not gonna lie; I feel pretty proud of myself. You never know what you can do until you do it. For this reason, I love running. I love that it gives me an outlet to break down walls. It's never easy, but everyday I feel myself getting stronger. I start out every run praising God for giving me the physical and mental ability to push through pain and finish the run. In just a few weeks, I'll be testing new boundaries of physical exertion, but I fully trust that my Creator will pull me to the finish line just as He has in every other run.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
What time is it? ... It's our vacation... Almost..
Somehow these school years keep going by faster and faster. Or maybe it just feels that way because another one is over. As a kid, I could never wait until summer. Swimming, friends, sleepovers, vacations, swimming. These are what a kid lives for, but being a teacher, summer doesn't hold quite the same sanctity. While, of course, I LOVE having my time to rejuvenate and recuperate for the next year, my perspective has changed a bit.
As every school year must end, the last day creeps to a close. Necks are hugged. Selfies are snapped. Kids are scattered, and the hallways and classes are eventually emptied. I know I wrote a post about this last year, but it hasn't gotten any easier to let my babies go. Once the kids are gone and the excitement turns to quiet, I'm left with the emptiness of the chairs and the deafening silence that will no longer be filled by the ones I've come to know and love so well. And the tears ensued. While puddles formed on my desk, I hid my watery, swollen eyes behind my computer screen, so teachers passing by couldn't see how lame I was.
I am overcome with emotion when I think about our journey and the pride that beams from their eyes when they've learned how much they accomplished. To play even a minuscule role in the course of their lives is humbling. I am privileged and honored to be able to teach the kids on my roster. They are smart, compassionate, creative, hilarious. They are determined, passionate, and eager. They are dreamers. They are leaders. After all the hugs and pictures and sweet notes shared, I've learned one thing: Where relationships are built, lives are changed.
I've finally realized after five years that this is my purpose. I understand the magnitude of my influence. God has called me (and everyone really) to love people - the smaller, more sarcastic ones, in particular. Every day is NOT easy, and there are MANY difficult days. I know I make a multitude of mistakes daily, but while my weaknesses are plentiful, I have never felt more fulfilled and humbled than when I get notes that tell me they felt loved. My profession is not just a job to me, which is why watching them walk out of my room for the last time is so jarring. Spending 9 1/2 months with them, these kids become my family, the lights of my life, my little brothers and sisters - even the "challenging" ones.
That is why I love my job. That is why I can't let go. That is why my eyes are watering again. Because they've changed me and left a handprint on my heart that I can't forget. I've poured myself into these kids and they've reciprocated. I have the best job in the world because I get a preview of the future. And from where I'm sitting, I think we'll be OK. Thanks parents for letting me love your kids. It's not an honor I take lightly. So, while I intend to enjoy my summer, the wound is still fresh.
Now, on a lighter note... Some pictures with the crazies.
(A little high school musical fun)
(They're so cute!)
They have my <3.
May the odds be ever in your favor, class of 2020.
As every school year must end, the last day creeps to a close. Necks are hugged. Selfies are snapped. Kids are scattered, and the hallways and classes are eventually emptied. I know I wrote a post about this last year, but it hasn't gotten any easier to let my babies go. Once the kids are gone and the excitement turns to quiet, I'm left with the emptiness of the chairs and the deafening silence that will no longer be filled by the ones I've come to know and love so well. And the tears ensued. While puddles formed on my desk, I hid my watery, swollen eyes behind my computer screen, so teachers passing by couldn't see how lame I was.
I am overcome with emotion when I think about our journey and the pride that beams from their eyes when they've learned how much they accomplished. To play even a minuscule role in the course of their lives is humbling. I am privileged and honored to be able to teach the kids on my roster. They are smart, compassionate, creative, hilarious. They are determined, passionate, and eager. They are dreamers. They are leaders. After all the hugs and pictures and sweet notes shared, I've learned one thing: Where relationships are built, lives are changed.
I've finally realized after five years that this is my purpose. I understand the magnitude of my influence. God has called me (and everyone really) to love people - the smaller, more sarcastic ones, in particular. Every day is NOT easy, and there are MANY difficult days. I know I make a multitude of mistakes daily, but while my weaknesses are plentiful, I have never felt more fulfilled and humbled than when I get notes that tell me they felt loved. My profession is not just a job to me, which is why watching them walk out of my room for the last time is so jarring. Spending 9 1/2 months with them, these kids become my family, the lights of my life, my little brothers and sisters - even the "challenging" ones.
That is why I love my job. That is why I can't let go. That is why my eyes are watering again. Because they've changed me and left a handprint on my heart that I can't forget. I've poured myself into these kids and they've reciprocated. I have the best job in the world because I get a preview of the future. And from where I'm sitting, I think we'll be OK. Thanks parents for letting me love your kids. It's not an honor I take lightly. So, while I intend to enjoy my summer, the wound is still fresh.
Now, on a lighter note... Some pictures with the crazies.
(Apparently, I haven't mastered selfies yet.)
May the odds be ever in your favor, class of 2020.
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