PaulaWallaism

Less Traveled By

2012-02-06T21:22:00.001-06:00

The Road Not Taken

-Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay,
In leaves no step had trodden black,
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The other day, I was flipping back and forth through my school planner, finishing a project, when I turned to a page of notes written in early August. I remember being so taken with the words I'd shared them with my coworkers and friends when I welcomed them back...

It says:

The moment of frustration presents us with a tremendous opportunity to contribute.

We have a choice. We can be negative and defensive or we can choose to ask:
What can I do to make a difference?
How can I support the team?
Making better choices in the moment by asking better questions.

Sometimes, when we are struggling, we are tempted to stop giving to others. Our thoughts turn toward ourselves and we do not feel like being a blessing to others; we want someone to comfort us. But when we are hurting, we should behave as we would if we were not hurting.

I treat others the way I wish to be treated.
I do not get to choose when or how often I will treat others the way I wish to be treated.
Why?
Because I wish to be treated with kindness and respect every moment of every day.
Therefore, I must do the same.

And you know what? It is easier to do something every day than to do it only some days. When you do something every day, there's no debate, no procrastination, no wondering shall I or shan't I?

It's your routine, your normal, your everyday. It's yours.

I actively choose to be this person every day.

Who will you choose to be?

Love,
me

Be Yourself, Ralph... just be yourself.

2012-02-01T21:30:00.000-06:00

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

I struggle with this one.
-every day-
I want so much to please everyone,
ensure happiness,
and maintain balance.

I become
who you need
when you ask
because it will make
you better,

or them better

or
us better
or everything better.

I do what you need
when you mention it
because
it will make you
smile
or because
it will make them
smile.

I want you
to succeed
because
you deserve success.
And
when you succeed
that means
they did too
which
means
we did.

We succeeded.

But

I can't
keep doing this.

I can't keep showing up
for something
every
single
day

GIVING
GIVING
GIVING

all
of my effort
my love
my sincerity
my...

time

my

every

thing

just to over
hear

you want more

just to be asked
when

just to be asked
why

just to be asked
why not

or to be told
you should be...

AND to be given

even

more.

I

am

one (1) singular

person.

One.

I should not be expected
to do the jobs of
three people
just because
you
don't understand
or can't see

[or refuse to see]

or never realized
that

my job

is difficult too.

And NOW,

--NOW--

Now

that I've
done what you
said you wanted

You still act
as though
I have
all this

i n v i s i b l e

time.

I catch it
in sideways glances,
and
turns of phrase.

But

my time is not

i n v i s i b l e

nor
infinite.

You teach from
one bell
to another.

I teach
from one
bell
to another.

Do you hold a
second,
completely separate,
position as well?

How about a third?
(because I do)

Wait!

Do you eat lunch?
Most days... I don't.

- but I monitor
lots of kids who do
for
you.

Planning?

... because
you teach
from one bell
the other.

You?
usually, yes?

Me?

not one single moment...

I
teach
all
day.

I
teach
all
day.

You
wanted
a
teacher.

I
teach.

I am a teacher.

I can't give you anymore.

I'm sorry.

I have been called names, yelled at, chased down, and stalked since taking this coaching job and I never once regretted my decision or let someone's anger and frustration disable me. Instead, I have constantly reevaluated, reflected, and studied so I would become better. I have always viewed it as my job to be the frustrated one - because by shouldering the frustration I would look for a solution.

Well, I am definitely frustrated.

How is it possible for me to give you everything and you to believe I am worth nothing?

I refuse to accept it.

You truly believe I have no value?

If that's true,

what

-exactly-

do you think

I do?

And

while I'm here...

when were ANY of you going to tell me this

-in person-

?

I really don't know what else to say.

Love Poems

2012-01-17T22:15:00.000-06:00

I once told you each day is a love poem -

comprised of the
-small-
everyday moments.

The mismatched
striped socks,

smiles drawn
in frost,

searching
for stars and
singing
about rainbows.

And they are, aren't they?

Love poems?

Something beautiful and rare...

"Perhaps he has never considered the invisible lines that run through his knitting, as they do through mine.
But I consider those lines. And I see them in other places. In the carefully placed blueberries on top of my locally made muffin. What was the baker thinking about when she made it? Will I taste a difference if she was worried about her ailing grandmother or dreaming about her boyfriend? Or in the way my mailman delivered my mail today? I'll never know what he felt as he dropped the circulars into my box, but I can guarantee this: He felt something, and if he was upset about the argument he'd had that morning with his wife, I hope that the act of clicking my mailbox shut and latching my gate acted as a kind of mechanical prayer.
The sensation of yarn slipping through my fingers has taught me that rote work, like dropping mail into boxes or placing blueberries on muffins or knitting garter stitches with bamboo needles, is seldom just an action, it is a wish, a dream, a desire; usually it is a distillation of all of these into a single overriding emotion: hope." -- A Life in Stitches: Knitting My Way Through Love, Loss and Laughter, by Rachael Herron

After reading Rachael's words I am even more certain.

The moments
and breaths
of our days
-are-
comprised
of
wishes,
dreams,
and desires.

Distillations
of
all
these things
into
a
single
overriding
emotion:

Love.

Don't you see it?

Love,
me

Part of Something Beautiful

2011-12-02T23:04:00.001-06:00

May the grace of God
       be
      with
       you
always in your heart

May you know the truth
         inside you from the start

May you find the strength
                                to know you are

a

part
of something
beautiful...

Being alone when you want to be with someone is hard. Feeling excluded and separate and isolated, especially when you are around other people is hard.

My life is defined by this dichotomy.

[and] I can give in to the sadness

and despair

that comes

with unwanted solitude

[know]

May the grace of God
       be
      with
       you
always in your heart

May you know the truth
         inside you from the start

May you find the strength
                                 to know you are

a

part
of something beautiful...

...because I am.

Love,
me

I'd Rather Have You.

2011-11-26T01:31:00.001-06:00

It's hard

to always

remember

-be certain-

the amount of

s p a c e

you're granted

inside

someone

else's

heart.

Benjamin: well

Paula: Well

I love you

Benjamin: I love you

Paula: and I am so lucky to have you

I really am

Sent at 11:59 AM on Friday

Benjamin: Me too

but

I have me all the time

Paula: That makes you pretty lucky too, doesn't it?

Benjamin: I'd rather have you

Sent at 12:00 PM on Friday

Paula: (that is the sweetest thing I've heard -or read- in a very long time)

...simple as it is

Benjamin:

Paula: and I believe that is why I love you

I doubt so many things anymore, I often wonder which I've conjured out of fear, sadness, or truth.

Ben is a reminder of truth. He is also one of love, patience, and kindness.

And for that, I am blessed and I am thankful.

Love,

I Want (to swim away).

2011-11-19T01:35:00.001-06:00

Once there was a tree...and she loved a littleboy. And every day the boy would come and he would gather her leaves andmake them into crowns and play king of the forest. He would climb up hertrunk and swing from her branches and eat apples. And they would playhide-and-go-seek. And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade. And the boy loved the tree...very much. And the tree was happy.

But time went by.

And the boy grew older.

And the tree was oftenalone.

Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said,"Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eatapples and play in my shade and be happy." "I am too big toclimb and play," said the boy.

"I wantto buy things and have fun. I want some money. Canyou give me some money?" "I'msorry," said the tree, "but I have no money. I have only leavesand apples. Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in the city. Thenyou will have money and you will be happy." And so the boy climbed up thetree and gathered her apples and carried them away. And the tree washappy.

But the boy stayed away for a long time...
and the tree was sad.

And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and shesaid, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy.""I am too busy to climb trees," said the boy.
"I want a house to keep me warm," he said. "I wanta wife and I want children, and so Ineed a house. Can you give me ahouse?" "I have no house," said the tree. "The forest is myhouse, but you may cut off my branches and build a house. Then you will behappy." And so the boy cut off her branches and carried them away tobuild his house. And the tree was happy.

But the boy stayed awayfor a long time.

And when he came back, the tree was so happy she couldhardly speak. "Come, Boy," she whispered, "come andplay." "I am too old and sad to play," said the boy.

"I want a boat thatwill take me far away from here. Can you giveme a boat?" "Cut down my trunk and make a boat," said thetree. "Then you can sail away...and be happy." And so theboy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away.

And the tree washappy... but not really.

And after a long time the boy came back again.

"I am sorry, Boy,"said the tree, "but I have nothingleft to give you--My apples are gone." "My teeth are too weak forapples," said the boy. "My branches are gone," said thetree. "You cannot swing on them-" "I am too old to swing onbranches," said the boy. "My trunk is gone," said thetree. "You cannot climb--" "I am too tired to climb,"said the boy. "I am sorry,"sighed the tree. "I wish that I could give you something... but I have nothing left. I amjust an old stump. I am sorry...""I don't need very much now," said the boy, "just a quiet placeto sit and rest. I am very tired." "Well," said the tree,straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is goodfor sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down andrest." And the boy did. And the tree was happy.

(but not really)

Adapted from Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree

I believe what I do is valuable.

I believe what I do is purposeful.

I give you more of myself than (many days) I believe I am capable.

I do not understand what, or how, or why you want more than I have to give.

There is nothing left.

val·u·a·ble [val-yoo-uh-buhl, -yuh-buhl]
adjective
1.having considerable monetary worth; costing or bringing a high price: a valuable painting; a valuable crop.

2.having qualities worthy of respect, admiration, or esteem: a valuable friend.

3.of considerable use, service, or importance: valuable information.

pur·pose·ful [pur-puhs-fuhl]
adjective

1.having a purpose.

2.determined; resolute.

3.full of meaning; significant.

Living Heroes

2011-11-11T11:22:00.001-06:00

"I have long believed that sacrifice is the pinnacle of patriotism." - Bob Riley

"Life’s most urgent question is: What are you doing for others?" -Martin Luther King Jr.

"Only a life lived for others is worth living." -Albert Einstein

Thank you - for suspending your whole life so they may have theirs. One day, our some day will be our today and even then, we'll know... your sacrifices (our sacrifices) aren't forgotten. They are woven into the fabric that sets each one of us free.

I love you. Now, come home to me.

Love,
me

Lonliness

2011-11-07T21:50:00.001-06:00

What lies behind you and what lies in front ofyou, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you. Ralph Waldo Emerson The world breaks everyone, andafterward, some are strong at the broken places. Ernest Hemingway Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, andstronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. Christopher Robin to Pooh (by A. A. Milne) Although the world is full of suffering, it is alsofull of the overcoming of it. HelenKeller Itis not the mountain we conquer but ourselves. Sir Edmund Hillary Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time wefall. Confucius In the midst of winter, I finallylearned therewas in me aninvincible summer. Albert Camus I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly,acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I stillknow quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing. Agatha Christie Werely upon the poets, the philosophers and the playwrights to articulate whatmost of us can only feel, in joy or sorrow. They illuminate the thoughts forwhich we only grope. They give us the strength and balm we cannot find inourselves. Whenever I find my courage wavering I rush to them. They give me thewisdom of acceptance, the will and resilience to push on. Helen Hayes

Significance.

2011-11-06T22:38:00.002-06:00

I found this while rummaging around. It's just as true today as the moment my fingers touched keys nearly four years ago...perhaps, more so.

June 13, 2008 I packed up my classroom a couple of weeks ago. I know I told you I was quitting but I never really explained how or why. To be honest, I didn't want to and haven't even brought my boxes home yet. Part of me is really excited to know I'm not leaving because I didn't like it or because I wasn't good at it but the rest of me is really, really sad because I'm going to miss the 986 kids I saw every day, the 40 kids who wrote stories and read books with me, and my friends. Not to mention, I...have...no...idea what's about to happen next.I quit because I love someone more than I love my job.I told Ben it didn't matter where we lived because I can teach anywhere and it's true, I can. It's just hard for me to imagine myself somewhere when I don't know where "anywhere" is....and now I'm packing up my house so other people will be able to imagine themselves in it and want to buy it. That's hard. The thought of putting my life into tubs scares me a little. I know it's silly but part of me feels a significance in packing it away. I hold the drawings Ruth taped to the wall near my bed and my desk and I don't want to put them away. I'm afraid I'll forget, that something will get lost, that somehow I won't remember...And I'm sad even though I've never been so happy.

Revisiting the Past

2011-11-06T01:48:00.000-05:00

I fly because it releases my mind from the tyranny of petty things. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Yesterday, Ruth told me she had a secret...

"Sometimes, I wish I could fly!"

I have secrets too. Ruth may not realize it but we're alike in all sorts of ways.

...all

sorts

of

ways.

Here's volume one "So I don't Forget."

An Open Letter

2011-10-30T13:13:00.001-05:00

to Karma...

If you and I could call a truce that would be ridiculously sweet. I thought you and I were on a pretty level playing field around 8:30 last night when I scheduled Sears to come out on TUESDAY to repair the washing machine the beeps and flashes when you press start (but does not wash clothes).

But to keep me up ALL NIGHT with kids, who chose the ONLY night I have no means of washing sheets or blankets, as they puked all over themselves and their beds...

Well, Karma...

Oh forget it.

You win.

Love,
me

Fashion Risk

2011-10-12T21:47:00.004-05:00

Ruth walked in this evening after hours and hours of quality "Amanda Time." As she strolled through the front door (wearing this) she asked, "Mom, do you know what it's called when you choose to wear several different types of clothes on the same occasion?"

She then answered her own question as she giggled.

A fashion risk.

For Max

2011-10-11T22:32:00.003-05:00

Ruth's baby brother, Max, was born shortly after noon today. I wasn't sure if the reality of another sibling to look after had truly sunk in, considering she's seven hundred miles away from him, but then she gave me this...

She told me not to read it - just to fold it up for her, put it in an envelope, and mail it to her brother so he could read it when he was old enough.

I followed every single one of her directions (except the first one) and I am so glad I snuck a peek before I put it in the mail for her.

Max is one lucky little boy.

Love,
me

Hot Cocoa is Best When Shared

2011-10-09T21:50:00.004-05:00

This morning, Ruth found the Krispy Kreme coupons I'd tucked away in a drawer.

"Will you take us for hot cocoa one Sunday afternoon?" she asked, as she rubbed the glossy paper between her fingers and her thumb.

I was busy with Isabella but remember telling her we'd look for a day on the calendar.

Tonight, as I looked through her book bag, one last time, to make sure she was ready for Monday, this is what I found...

A card for her teacher.

Look, Ruth is giving our hot chocolate to someone who deserves it more!

Ruth has no idea...

I used to believe Ruth was given to me because I was lonely and I needed her. Then later, I became certain she was mine because I had many, many lessons yet to learn. Today, I choose to believe she is a gift.

Love,

I will Respond with Love

2011-10-07T22:18:00.000-05:00

Life is too short to waste my days in irritation and anger.

I will give thanks.

I will talk to other people with compassion.

... respond with love.

Things will go better.

(repeat 10,000 times)

Love,

Awesomeness...

2011-10-06T22:47:00.003-05:00

Today, I seek awesomeness and mentorship from an unlikely guide...

Zappos - my favorite internet retailer.

Why?

I'll tell you why.

Core Values (They have 'em).

That's why.

Zappos Core Values

Now, go forth and make some awesomeness.

Love,

Forget Me Not...

2011-10-04T21:33:00.001-05:00

My favorite color is blue.

Which seems silly

considering how much I dislike

the feeling.

Today,

I found myself

searching

for

m y s e l f

within the words

I carry.

-solace-

What I found,

instead,

were reminders

to stop grasping

for love -

Let go

and

share it.

Forget-me-nots

are not

my favorite flower,

after all,

simply because

they sprout up across Austin with wild abandon.

No.

They are my favorite

because

they are given to me

from the

delicate grasp

of children.

-shared-

The way our lives were meant to be.

Love,

Breathless

2011-10-03T19:16:00.000-05:00

I've been without breath
since the first time
I saw
those shy brown eyes
peering
over the leather collar of a coat
shielding him
from the December cold
standing
on
the other side
of my door.

... the air still escapes me

-only-

now it disappears
with the realization
and acceptance
that

he

really

is

gone.

Three Cents

2011-09-25T14:54:00.001-05:00

This morning, I read something that struck me so deeply I repeated it several times before setting it aside. I've been struggling to keep it all together lately and this statement...this declaration... will become my new mantra.

"I am not giving away the power and promise of my life to this situation."

I told you it was powerful.

And as though Ruth knew I needed her to be extra sparkly, this is what she shouted as we headed out the door for groceries...

"I'm going to bring good luck to other people today!"

Ruth was grinning, the patchwork pony purse was slung over her shoulder, her eyes had that special sparkle that can only be captured by her coke bottle glasses, and in her fist she was clutching three pennies.

"I've decided to leave these for strangers to find."

And that is precisely what she did.

I hope at least one of those pennies brings a smile to someone.

Love,
me

The Trembling Stops

2011-09-14T21:40:00.000-05:00

The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.

Frederick Buechner

He's almost gone. Of course, it seems like he's always almost gone... Days will pass in slow motion -stand still- as I attempt to hold on to every moment until he really isn't here.

I
need
him.

Too Soon

2011-09-12T21:13:00.001-05:00

You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

My stomach hurts. Right now. I over think everything. Do you know how many times I've written (and re-written) what you're reading right now? If I haven't erased it all to begin again - twelve.

Last week, I spent an hour explaining why I think I talk too much yet I refuse to write in my blog because I'm afraid my words will offend someone. Last year I told all of you, "Prayers are not recipes or formulas; they are love poems. They need not be factual, but they must be true." I like to think of each day as a love poem. This year I've spent a lot of time reflecting, a lot of time crying... a lot of time wondering if I'm the only one writing love poems.

Where
has
everyone
else
gone?

Literally...

2011-09-01T22:41:00.001-05:00

Ruth brought home a study guide for this week's class story. I glanced over it so she and I could have a conversation about Eddie. Can anyone else figure out why I laughed?

Read her response to the first question...

To be completely fair,

That is page 56.

When I attempted to explain to Ruth, her teacher was most certainly looking for a more detailed description of her thought process her eyes got wide as saucers, her shoulders rose to her ears and she said, "NO! She even wrote that on the chart! SHE SAID IT IS AN ACCEPTABLE RESPONSE."

Well, then...

Perhaps the question should have asked, "How would we know something was realistic fiction if page 56 did not exist?"

Ruth says, "Well, in that case...(as she shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes) we know because, even though it's make believe, the story is something that could happen in real life.

I don't know if I'm over protective, over bearing, or...as a good friend said yesterday - plain old antagonistic but I find fault in the simplest things. Was it always this way? I don't believe so. We had a good seven year run... I can't determine if it is I who needs to make peace with all of this or if I'm meant to be her grand protector.

I only want to do what is right.

Sometimes, what is right is not as clear as I would like it to be.

Love,

Our Most Important Resource

2011-08-24T22:07:00.000-05:00

I should have been opening the journal to pen a witty thought or record one of Isabella's milestones but I wasn't. I was opening her to tear a page from her for a note I can't even remember writing.

Horrible, right?

...stealing breaths from a book.

I should hang my head in shame.

But you know what?

Tearing that page from her revealed this!

"Water is our MOST IMPORTANT resource!! It grows things (like plants) but doesn't grow things like ice cream cones. Cows eat that grass and here's all the things we use cows for: Leather (you know...shoes and couches), milk, and meat."

An astute Ruth observation :)

Love,
me

If...

2011-08-10T23:40:00.003-05:00

"If you love someone,

you tell them."

I found this sage advice scrawled on the front of a greeting card today and I smiled.

I remember writing that same sentence in the journal years ago...

and to this day,
sharing
how much I love
the
people
I love
-with-
the people I love
is
probably
my absolute
favorite
thing about
living.

Sometimes, even when we know we're loved...it feels good to hear someone say it.

I'm not afraid.

I love you.

Love,
me

Missing Parts of My Heart [no more]

2011-08-08T09:51:00.000-05:00

I am just a couple hours away from having all the parts of my heart home again.

(at least for a little while)

...and minus the three pieces I had to loan out to the Lone Star State last week.

But still,

Ruth is on her way home!!!!!!!!!!!

Let the hootin', hollerin', and happy dancing begin.

Love,
me

Rainbows

2011-08-06T15:43:00.003-05:00

It doesn't matter what the weather's like,
the view from my kitchen
is
rainbows
and
butterflies.

If that's not enough to make you smile
well...

poop on you, mr. party pooper pants.

-wink-

love,
me

Are You My Mother?

2011-08-03T22:51:00.002-05:00

I am a mother.
I chose this life.
My daughter once asked, "Why me?"
and I replied,
"Because I'd always wanted
someone
exactly
like
you
to keep me company."

My children
are
the very
definition
of
living.

Beyond
the long
conversations,
the cooking lessons,
the hugs,
and
the bedtime kisses...

Regardless
of my
unending
love,

not all of my daughters
belong to me.

They are hers.

They must not have
told her...

I am a mother.

Love Notes

2011-07-31T01:05:00.001-05:00

I bought everyone in the house a box of Tic Tacs a few nights ago. They were a surprise to let them know I appreciated them. Affixed to the front of each box was a small yellow sticky note, lovingly penned in black sharpie marker... "I love you! Love, me"

That note has traveled from a Tic Tacs box to the coffee pot to the iPad to the silverware drawer to the side of the pantry... My girls have been spreading the love. I think it is precious. It makes me smile every time I stumble across it.

I am really going to miss them when they leave next week.

The traveling yellow sticky note reminded me of a favorite Lucy Calkins quote:

" If you can convince your children that you love them, then there's nothing you can't teach them."

I hope, more than anything, my children know they are loved and I hope that love leads them to a lifetime of learning and understanding.

This last quote caught my attention while at the movies with Ben and the girls,

“Maybe you don’t need the whole world to love you, you know? Maybe you just need one person.”

Love is powerful.
Love is definitely better in quality than quantity.
I know the addition of Ben's love [to my life] has impacted me in more ways than I could ever describe... and because of his love, I have found the love of so many others.

Love is a beautiful thing.

Love,
me

Murphy is not a Law of Physics (or is it?)

2011-07-27T11:29:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, I feel like my husband is packing his bags beforeI ever get all of his clothes washed from the last trip. Our deployment cycle can be difficult withoutthe right outlook, attitude, and support system. I still remember the sage words of a dearfriend a few days before Ben left for his first trip with the 319^th,“Be prepared Paula, because if can go wrong [or break, or die, orcatastrophically explode…] while your husband is gone, IT WILL.”

I alsoremember telling her I thought I was ready...

Well, at least I had the right attitude.

I've had hot water heaters stop working, hot water heaters EXPLODE, air conditioners die, washing machines fill my washroom with water, breaker boxes spark, rear differentials nearly break in half (twice), my rent house go in to foreclosure, discovered my [different] rent house was half eaten by termites, been accused of stealing a thousand dollar appliance from Best Buy (of all places), lived through two bouts of -THAT- stomach virus, and feared the baby may not make it through the weekend when RSV took hold of her little lungs.

...and I did all of it when my best friend was somewhere else because his job takes him all over the world to protect all of us. Notice, I said I did it. We made it through it all and I imagine we'll make it through the next list that's just as long.

I came across the next bit on a website and it made me laugh...

Murphy's laws

If anything can gowrong, it will.

Corollary:It can

Corollary:It should

MacGillicuddy’sCorollary: At the most inopportune time

If there is apossibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the mostdamage will be the one to go wrong.

Extremeversion: If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one thatwill cause the most damage will be the FIRST to go wrong.

If anything just cannotgo wrong, it will anyway.

If you perceive thatthere are four possible ways in which something can go wrong, and circumventthese, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop.

Corollary:It will be impossible to fix the fifth fault without breaking the fix on one ormore of the others.

Murphy's Law ofThermodynamics
Things get worse under pressure.

Quantization Revision ofMurphy's Laws
Everything goes wrong all at once.

Murphy's Constant
Matter will be damaged in directproportion to its value

For more: http://www.murphys-laws.com/murphy/murphy-laws.html

Love,

My heart...

2011-06-24T14:47:00.000-05:00

My heart was waiting for your heart.

Your heart makes my heart laugh.

Our hearts like to splash in mud puddles and play in the rain.

My heart talks to your heart even when I don't know what to say.

Your heart shields my heart from all the yucky stuff.

Our hearts would get lost in the stars if someone set them free up there.

My heart loves your heart.

Your heart loves my heart.

Our hearts

were meant

to be together.

What Really Matters

2011-06-17T00:20:00.003-05:00

Bells fell asleep before sunset tonight. It would have been nice to kick back with Ben, in our chairs, and talk as the sun dropped down over the trees and the fish jumped in and out of the water. Ben should come home, I miss him.

With the deck so lonely, I came inside and decided to clean out Ruth's dreaded ART cabinet. Three hours later I feel pretty accomplished. I also feel a tiny bit guilty about the bowl of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch that just disappeared (but that's a story for another day).

Back to the art cabinet. I secretly like her. She's where I keep my old journals... the ones I carry around with me everywhere. And cleaning her out means I get to sift through years of funny observations, thoughts, insights, and cool stuff. Sifting is good. It reminds me of where I've been and helps me focus on who I am.

Tonight, I opened the journal from my first months in Florida...

February 12, 2009

A friend's comment on my blog titled "Blah, Blah, Blah..."

I have no idea why you needed Florida, but I think eventually it will come to you! These things always have a way of making themselves apparent when we aren't grasping for the answer.

It's taken a few years but I'm starting to see it.

I met someone this year who's taught me a lot. I write down half of everything she says in the bright pink journal. The last thing she told me before I packed up for summer vacation?

"I don't need two doors. I need one door - that way I know I'm going the right way."

Some things are beyond our control and they are beyond our control for a reason - - there is a plan even if we do not always see or understand it.

Which brings me to this... every time I listen to this song it reminds me of the person I met this year who taught me a lot and everything she's taught me.

Thank you.

You are proof that everything really does happen for a reason and we are given what we need when it is needed.

Love,

Missing Parts of My Heart

2011-06-14T23:26:00.000-05:00

Isabella and I flew home from Texas today...

...all

by...

...ourselves.

Why?
Because--
Ruth is in Central Texas for the summer.
Ben is still who the H-E-doublehockeysticks knows where.

And you know what?

It still makes me cry, after four years of sharing, to come home to the bits and pieces of people who were here one moment and won't be for thousands and thousands of moments.

It's bad enough, I walk past Ben's flight suit and boots every morning as though he were still going to hop out of bed and go to work.

Today, Ruth showed up every time I turned a corner.

In the underwear drawer she NEVER closes.

In the Littlest Pets who are positioned exactly how she was last playing with them (which was most likely when she was supposed to be helping me pack - - or closing that underwear drawer).

In the way she made sure her dog was tucked up safely in his house, with his toy and his bone, and the birdie was happily singing on top.

And in the bug catching gear and colored chalks still all over the back porch (her new favorite haunt).

My heart may have started off big but between Ruth and Ben and all the missing pieces I fear what's left is being stretched too thin.

The heart can only go without for so long.

"My heart needs your heart."

Remember?

Love,

I think this sums it up, nicely.

2011-06-12T23:26:00.000-05:00

Ruth and I collapsed on my bed in a fit of giggles after hearing this song on the clock radio a couple of weeks ago. We'd been dancing around the room, mid-afternoon, in our pajamas (completely fitting) and Ruth wanted me to play the song again and again. She was so mad when I told her the clock radio wasn't like the cd player or her ipod.

A few months ago, Golden told me this was her new anthem...

Well, today... Today it's mine.

Love,

Everything

2011-06-10T22:53:00.000-05:00

EVERYthing
happens
for
a reason

(and there are billions and billions of reasons)

(and there are billions and billions of things)

I apparently have a great many things to learn in this life because I hear myself saying this over and over and over again.

And you know what?

Some
things
start off
better than others.

Illuminations

2011-05-28T23:29:00.002-05:00

I've come to believe unpacking can be as therapeutic as it is maddening. It's an opportunity to put the pieces of your life back together again. For a person [like me] who likes order I can see the beauty in that.

As I sifted through my books and sorted them into piles, one of them fell open when Isabella tore it away from the others. I found this note tucked neatly inside it:

June 19, 2006
Everyone understands that burning wood produces fire. But when fire feeds on fire, that is a rare condition that yields the greatest illumination. Two flames come together and yield light more magnificent than either could have given forth alone. - Deng Ming-Dao, 365 Tao

Fire Feeding on Fire.
Once in a while you meet someone who inspires you, who pushes you to greater heights, who helps you to accomplish things you may never have been able to accomplish alone.
Nourish the spark.
Cherish the partnership.
Fan the flame.

The date of the note tells me I wrote it the day before my last wedding anniversary with Chris... an anniversary I knew in my heart would be my last even though I hadn't yet told him. Its purpose was two-fold - part of me was mourning the relationship I'd wanted so badly with Chris and part of me was hoping there was still hope.

Well, about that...

As I sifted through my books and sorted them into piles, one of them fell open when Isabella tore it away from the others. I found this note tucked neatly inside it:

June 19, 2006
Everyone understands that burning wood produces fire. But when fire feeds on fire, that is a rare condition that yields the greatest illumination. Two flames come together and yield light more magnificent than either could have given forth alone. - Deng Ming-Dao, 365 Tao

Fire Feeding on Fire.
Once in a while you meet someone who inspires you, who pushes you to greater heights, who helps you to accomplish things you may never have been able to accomplish alone.
Nourish the spark.
Cherish the partnership.
Fan the flame.

...whispering the words as I read them, my fingers delicately framing the page, tears welled in my eyes as I realized I'd jotted this down years before I ever met him.

Him...

Ben,
Once in a while you meet someone who inspires you, who pushes you to greater heights, who helps you to accomplish things you may never have been able to accomplish alone. One cold, December night I met you and my entire life changed. Thank you for your love, your sense of humor, and your smile. And thank you [also] for reminding me that I can do this (sometimes over and over and over again)...whatever this may be.

You are the butter on my toast...

The fudge on my sundae...

The chips with my salsa...

I love you.

Everyone understands that burning wood produces fire. But when fire feeds on fire, that is a rare condition that yields the greatest illumination. Two flames come together and yield light more magnificent than either could have given forth alone.

It's true.

Together, we are pretty magnificent.

Thank you for bringing hope, happiness, and greatness back into my life and, more than anything, for your love. It's crazy, it's infectious, and it is absolutely the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Love,
me

If I Ever Saw a Purple Cow...

2011-05-23T22:13:00.002-05:00

I've been sharing these stories with my students for more than a decade. Uncle Stan has been my go-to guy for a long time.

I never saw a purple cow
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one!
--1895 Gelett Burgess

Uncle Stan used to sleep on our couch. I didn't know why and, quite frankly, it never really mattered (except for the year he REFUSED to sleep somewhere else [besides the couch] on Christmas) (You don't mess with me and my Christmas... know what I'm sayin'?).

I was as tall as my Uncle Stan when I was seven... Okay, that may be stretching it just a bit, but he was no Abe Lincoln. He did, however, ALWAYS have a beard akin to Abe Lincoln. I wonder if I'm the only one who finds this oddly coincidental?

He drove us to Sonic for slushes in the car only meant for two grown ups...which meant me and Julie had to squeeze behind the front seats and stand all the way there and all the way back. (It was awesome)

He made his own fishing lures in our basement and his own beef jerky in our oven.

His mom taught me how to make popcorn balls.

He cooked dinner with my dad.

They used to smile and laugh...

and..

he

made

Purple

Cows.

One frosty glass.
One huge scoop of vanilla ice cream.
One Straw & One spoon (the bigger the better)
and GRAPE juice.

I still make them every single year on my birthday.

They're delicious and silly and fun.

My Uncle Stan

was
silly
and
fun
and

I'll miss him.

Love,
me

Bookshelves

2011-05-14T21:24:00.000-05:00

Today was our last full day in what's become known as "The Old House" and I've just finished packing up the last of my rows and rows of bookshelves. I saved the books for practically last and that seemed fitting as I sat on the floor surrounded by swirls of dust, old Amazon.com boxes and dented Rubber-maid tubs. Somewhere among the stacks and towers of love letters, diaries, poets, and (even) astrology I realized my whole life could be found in the pages all around me.

I think I needed to discover that today.

I don't know about you but I write in my books. It's a horrible habit I hope I've instilled in all of you. I underline, draw arrows, make notes, draw exclamation points and giant happy faces. If I were to write the notes somewhere else I may never find them five years later when I pull the book off the shelf...

Today, I opened a book I'm sure I haven't opened since before we left Texas. The notes inside are from the fall just before Ben when I was struggling to find my place in a new teaching assignment, struggling to reclaim my independence, and desperately trying to remember what it was like to be myself... by... myself.

"We cannot teach writing well unless we trust that there are real, human reasons to write. As writers, what we all need more than anything else in the world is listeners, listeners who will respond with silent empathy, with sighs of recognition, with laughter and tears and questions and stories of their own... Writers need to be heard. The point is: To be heard - even if by one single person... When we help children know that their lives do matter, we are teaching writing... 'What fascinating, amazing kids I have,' we think. When we feel this way, we stand a chance of making a difference in their lives...'What do we do if our kids won't write?' 'First you have to love them. If you can convince your children that you love them, then there's nothing you can't teach them."

Lucy Calkins is right you know, we write because we wish, more than anything, to be heard.

I'm lucky.

I have you

and you listen.

Thank you .

Love,
me

Today's the sort of day.

2011-05-10T21:52:00.000-05:00

Today's the sort of day I wish there were more than twenty minutes to talk to you. I wish I wouldn't have wasted those twenty minutes carrying on about the stupid house...that I would have been present enough to stop long enough so you could begin because that would have meant I could listen... I could hear your voice.

I miss you.

.
..
...

An email reminded me that this past Friday was Military Spouse Appreciation Day. Like everything else, it didn't come until Monday but, this time, I don't mind so much. I'm feeling reflective...

You can click the link to read all of it or read the parts I've decided were awesome enough to make the cut&paste. ;)

"What Civilians Don't Get."

Here’s an opportunity to “celebrate” Military Spouses Appreciation Day. It was Friday, but a military spouse’s sacrifice is daily and lifelong. And, the day may have been overshadowed by ongoing coverage of the capture and killing of Osama Bin Laden.

Military Spouses Handle Challenges At Home

At the best of times, a military marriage usually means relocation every couple of years or so, which can mean giving up a career of your own. And for almost 10 years now, military spouses face the flipside of long and repeated deployments, loneliness and constant dread.

My wife, of course, and myself - I'm in the military. And I really just want to make two quick points. One is that the - these folks, the military spouses, while their soldiers are deployed, are really struggling.

I mean, this is very, very difficult for them, emotionally and practically, because of the fact that they have got to, in my case, raise my two - our two children, really on their own. And so they do a superb job. And it's interesting, the dynamic in which when the soldiers do come home, often there's people coming out of the woodwork that want to participate in the homecomings when they haven't really helped the spouse over the course of the 15 months or 12 months or how long the deployment was. And that, I think, causes some tension with the spouses.

I mean, they needed help, they haven't gotten it, and now the soldier comes home, and then everyone wants to gather around to celebrate, although they haven't participated in that sacrifice.

And the other quick thing, and I'll stop, is: you know, you're really hitting on a very important point, and that is this: We hear about the soldiers that we lose in Afghanistan and Iraq or wherever else. I think that we often forget, though, the incredible, lifelong sacrifices that are often excruciatingly painful, not just for the actual injured soldier but also for the spouse -whether it's the husband or wife - and also the kids that are going to have to endure this for the rest of their life.

-----------------

KEVIN: I've been in the active-duty Air Force for 10 years. My wife is not active duty, but I just want to make the point that the life of a military spouse is just as hard when the member is actually at home.

I mean, most people don't realize - and even San Antonio, I have a number of people look at my wife and say, well, you don't really have it that bad because your husband is here, and usually, those are people that have moved to San Antonio on purpose because their, you know, their mother is sick or their father is sick or they want to be close to family.

My wife's family is in Virginia, and her parents are not in good health. You know, so some of the everyday things, you know, she's living not where she wants to live. She's at, you know, really the beckon call of the Air Force because I can be called and have been called at really on a 24-hour notice, in the middle of the night, we're disrupting, you know, birthday parties or any kind of emergency.

You know, and a lot of people think, oh, well, your husband is here, it's really not that bad, but they don't realize that they're really just along for the ride. So when they - when members do get deployed, it's that much more difficult, but even when they're home, you know, we work very long hours. We can get called in any weekend or in the middle night.

And when important family things do happen, you know, she can generally gets pressure from her family. Why aren't you in Virginia more? Well, you know, packing up our six-year-old, four-year-old and six-months-old, you know, for a thousand dollars of a plane ticket, you know, and trying to get through a, you know, an airport with two car seats and three strollers and backpacks and food, you know. And a lot of people don't appreciate how difficult it is, and I appreciate my wife's sacrifice.

She's - I mean, we've lived in four places in 10 years, and she's repeatedly have to quit jobs and put her career on hold. And it's all because of, you know, all because of me. So I think a lot of times that gets lost. And obviously, when they're deployed, that compounds it tremendously, but even when they're home, it's extraordinarily difficult.

-------------------

There's a lot going on at my house(s) right now... part of me wants to share because I think it would make me feel better, the other part of me is done sharing because it never seems to get me anywhere.

Ben would make it better. I need Ben.

Love,
me

One is a lonely number

2011-05-05T22:33:00.000-05:00

Lonely
Inadequate
Isolated
and
Helpless

pretty much sums it up.

That doesn't make it okay... but that's okay.

2011-05-02T22:48:00.001-05:00

I know full well, the prices we must pay to be free.

I also know my husband would go to the ends of this Earth, not just for me but, for each and every one of you and I love him for that.

I go to bed every night and wake up every morning knowing someone, somewhere is looking out for me somehow.

It's comforting.

This morning, as I drove my girls to daycare, breaking news took precedent over Taylor Swift and I found myself explaining who Osama bin Laden was to my almost third grader.

Her take on this entire situation?

"So they just killed him?"

"Well..."

I tried to explain why they 'just killed him' as she so eloquently stated.

"That doesn't make it okay. You can't go around killing people even if they killed someone else."

And she shook her head in disgust and disappointment.

My take on this situation?

I can take a deep breath, I do believe it's all sinking in. She may not understand the intricacies of war (I'm not sure I do) but she knows how to treat people and that's what counts.

I know full well, the prices we must pay to be free and today...today I'm thankful I will never have to be in such a situation myself.

Thank you to everyone who is somewhere looking out for me somehow. It means a lot.

Love,
me

My Own Rewards Program

2011-04-23T09:18:00.000-05:00

As I stood in the middle of Isabella's darkened room, swaying back and forth, with a restless baby girl fighting sleep in my arms, I fell in love all over again.

She's growing up fast these days. The way babies do I suppose. Between Christmas and Spring she began crawling and standing and walking around the furniture. She suddenly eats crackers and cheerios and drinks out of her sippy cup. She even says words like "tickle" and "done" and "dog."

She keeps me busy...this one.

Well, the other night as I laid her down for the night I realized something.

All the things I've found the most rewarding in my life are also the ones that bring me the most challenges.

They are the ones I work hardest for.

My Marriage
My Kids
My Career

I need each of these things and they bring me peace and happiness I couldn't find anywhere else but dude... they're also the most difficult things I've ever done.

...and I would do it all over again in a heart beat.

Some things are worth it.

Gratitude

2011-04-16T10:22:00.001-05:00

When I first sat down to write this entry my face was still damp from tears spent in a moment of exhaustion and frustration. I was straightening the dining room table when one of my slips of note paper fell to the floor - the only word written on it was sacrifice.

sacrifice n a voluntary giving up of something valued

This is a very popular word in the military community. I am thanked for it at every event I attend, no matter how big or how small, if my husband is with me or not... but having read the actual definition I believe they may be right in thanking him for whatever sacrifices he makes for them but me? They should probably stop because I didn't do any of this voluntarily. Nobody asked me.

Anyhow...

I stopped writing (and crying) (and being mad at the whole universe) up there at "Anyhow..." and stomped off with a book and a trusty jar of lavender bubble bath.

And I soaked...

   ...and I soaked,

and I soaked,

   and I thought about things...

and I soaked,

then...

  Then...

...Then, I decided

-perhaps-

I've been looking at this from the wrong direction entirely.

As a mother and a teacher I have spent many hours extolling why one should be grateful for what is being offered to them rather than ask why they didn't receive something else. I actually refer to it as "The Fine Art of Practicing Appreciation."

And yet... here I am focusing on what I don't have - what I will never, ever have because I made a promise to someone. A promise that I meant, whole-heartedly - that spending the rest of forever with him was more important than where I lived or where I worked.

I ought to be practicing The Fine Art of Appreciation.

(because I really am blessed)

appreciate v 1esteem highly; value 2 be grateful for

gratitude n being thankful; appreciation

First of all, there's this guy...

He lead to this girl...

Before the guy and the sweet cheeked baby there were...

and I could (and still can) count on someone to do things like this...

The crazy, amazing, miniature version of me has a baby of her own...

(she puts him in dresses)

I've got a guy who sends me presents for absolutely no reason...

Even though I've already worked in three different schools, every single one of them has made me smile and laugh and feel right at home...probably because they've been filled with people like this...

And last for today, I live in a place where the sun sets on the sand and the water...

It isn't fair to expect my children to be grateful and appreciative if I'm not giving them a model in which to follow (and I have so much to be grateful and appreciative of).

"I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances." Philippians 4:11 NIV

I believe it isn't too late. I can still learn so I will.

Love,
me

Because I love Him...

2011-04-06T20:36:00.002-05:00

(but really, because I love me)

and more importantly, because I do whole heartedly believe

"Feeling sorry for yourself, and your present condition, is not only a waste of energy but the worst habit you could possibly have." Dale Carnegie

I've been reflecting, researching, whining, complaining, and sulking. A couple of those things were extremely productive. The others probably need to be done every once in a while so...

(shrugging my shoulders)

I've decided to read a couple of books. Are you surprised?

The first book?

I found this book after clicking around some of the "woe is me" links on (very good) military support websites I've recently discovered or been referred to. I recognize that I appear to have my "sticks" together most of the time but I'm just as emotionally unkempt as the next girl on the inside. I'm not shy or ashamed though - I prefer happy to ifIcouldfindaBRIDGEiwoulddriveoffORjumpfromit, you know?

This book received review after review after review SCREAMING from the rooftops that it had changed (yes, I said CHANGED) the lives of the women who read it. The first chapter title did it for me... "What if I don't fit this life?"

I was so excited after that, I refused to buy the eBook version. I'm reading this one with my pencil and my journal - I can already see notes scribbled in the margins.

If that book is so wonderful, do I really need a second?

Y. E. S.

Why?

Because...

My husband is amazing.
My husband is my best friend.
My husband's smile can turn the worst day completely upside down .
My husband cooks me dinner.
My husband holds me from the moment we climb into bed until we wake up in the morning - I don't even have a pillow.
My husband loves me.

My

husband

is

never

home.

The Second Book...

How'd I find this one? I overheard other spouses talking about it. If it works for others, I am willing to give it a shot. It appears to be my sort of thing.

Now...

Who wants to read along with me?

If you're interested in either book and want to read with me - let me know.

Love,
me

Resiliency?

2011-04-03T22:25:00.000-05:00

"All of us get knocked down, but it's resiliency that really matters. All of us do well when things are going well, but the thing that distinguishes athletes is the ability to do well in times of great stress, urgency and pressure." --Roger Staubach

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."

-- Ernest Hemingway

I think I'm caught between a rock and a hard place right now...a very resilient rock and an extremely hard place.

I'm capable.

I will do what must be done because it must be done.

It won't be easy.

I won't enjoy it... as a matter of fact (if I'm going to be honest) joy escapes most of these days because there is simply too much for one person to do.

But I will do it

because

I wasn't asked if I wanted to or if I'd mind or if I was strong enough...

I was expected to.

.

..

...

Just because I can

and we do alright

doesn't mean I'm happy

or I like it

or...

.
..

It just means I get up every day
and do what I have to do
because there are people
counting on me
to do it.

(my thoughts on deployment)
(maybe you shouldn't talk to me about deployment)

...but I love you.

2011-04-02T20:57:00.001-05:00

I think we should talk.

I don't know how to tell you I'm not mad at you even though I've lost my cool a hundred times today.
I don't know how to tell you I've been counting down the hours...the minutes...and the seconds until I saw those stupid suitcases ever since you put them in the back of the Durango when I picked you up at the airport.
I don't know how to tell you that counting all those hours, minutes, and seconds makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Today, something even more horrible happened. I caught myself in mid-thought, telling myself, " Whew! We won't have to worry about that soon because it'll just be...us (he'll be gone)."

I don't know how to tell you how guilty I felt.
I don't know how to tell you how horrible and angry I felt either.
I don't know how to tell you I hate living two lives and feeling like neither one is allowed to know about the other.

I don't know how to tell you to stay because I know, no matter what I say, you have to go anyway.

But I love you.

I love you.

Definitions of Character

2011-03-29T21:32:00.004-05:00

Every Monday night, Ruth brings home a folder bulging with the ink stained odds and ends that make up her second grade existence. This one outshone the others , three Mondays ago, even though at first glance it is simple...

When I pulled it out of her folder, I read over it once then...caught myself reading over it again. I called Ruth over and asked her to tell me about her hero. To be honest, I thought she'd made up this Ethan persona.

Ruth says: "Ethan is my best friend. He's who I play with at recess and he helps me when I can't do things. He's nice to me. I've never had a friend as good as him."

I smiled, picked up that hero paper, off the counter, and prominently displayed it on the refrigerator where my one favorite thing always goes. It is still there. Nothing has yet to top it.

Tonight, we took Ruth to her favorite restaurant in the entire state of Florida, Royal Palace. I'm still not sure why she loves a Chinese buffet so much when the only things she eats are jell-o and pudding but...

Ah yes! She also eats fortune cookies. How could I forget?

Two bites into her cookie, Ruth nodded and said, "Oh, this is definitely true."

So I looked...

Then I asked, "A friend of yours needs advice and encouragement?"

"Well, yeah."

"Who?"

"Ethan - I've been encouraging him to make friends and better choices. You know...trying to help him because most of the kids don't like him."

"Your hero? That Ethan?"

"Yes, Mom... That...ETHAN."

...

I'm smiling right now and that's all I have to say about this.

Love,

Today.

2011-03-28T23:41:00.000-05:00

Today was not my day
   (but it was).

A lot of things did not go right.

And a lot more things went really horribly wrong.

Except...

...except when I asked you for help.

I needed you today

and

you
   did
exactly
   what
   I
   needed
you
too.

Thank you.

Thank you very, very much,

because

today
hadn't been my day

   but
because of you,

it was.

Five Things I love

2011-03-22T21:48:00.000-05:00

Five Things I'm In Love With RIGHT Now...

1. While digging through our cramped and overcrowded bookshelf last week, the worn, yellowed book I'd passed on to Ben from my childhood, on our first Valentine's Day, fell into my lap. The letter I'd written him was still folded and tucked inside.

2. I'm writing something that excites me and makes me smile and I've no intention of ever selling it.

3. The dictionary that has faithfully traveled with me in the floorboard of my car for the past three years has returned to her rightful home (next to my laptop). I didn't realize how much I'd missed her.

4. Our custom designed shoes arrived at our doorstep during dinner. :)

Ruth's say her name (in camouflage)... I think it's obvious that mine are "Awesome."

5. "Writing allows us to hold our life in our hands and make something of it."

-Lucy Calkins

Exactly.

2011-03-17T00:05:00.002-05:00

This morning, I drove to work in a simmer. It's really not my style to get worked up over things I have no control over. I mean, dude...that's energy wasted...energy that could have been well spent on something I do have control over.

I really didn't care about wasting energy this morning.

I was mad.

ANgRyaTHeUnIvErSEMaD

Then I pulled into my favorite parking spot, gathered my things, and walked into one of the few places that makes my crazy, exhausting, and sometimes angry-unhappy life

bright...

   school.

Today,

one thing    after another
   after
another

made me smile

LAUGH

-and beam-

   from

   the
   inside
   out.

There was the teacher who always stops by my office (every single day) for books who made me jump from my chair where I was hunched over my (somewhat late) March calendar when she squealed, "Yes!!!! These are the ones I've been waiting for!" I felt like jumping up and down with her - that's how happy she was. Those two minutes were like winning the lottery...for both of us.

Then there was the impromptu conversation with the fifth grader who owns a small part of my heart. Just as I turned to walk back to my office he held up his hand to stop me and said, "Wait, Coach...Thank you. You've given me peace. No...really...thank you." No, little dude (who thinks he's all grown up)...thank you.

Then I picked up my things and wandered down to kindergarten with my book about surprises filled with vegetables and earthworms. I wasn't expecting to have such an in depth conversation about moms and dads, brothers and sisters, ...kids in general. One little guy winked at me and informed me I probably had enough (kids) and didn't have to feel bad if I didn't want anymore. After our story, one bright eyed little boy ran up to me and asked, "Coach! Coach! Did we make you smile?"
   "Yes, you definitely made me smile."
...and they always do. I never know what's going to happen when I walk into kindergarten and I kind of like it that way, you know?

And at Reading Leadership, as the meeting comes to a close, one of my favorite peeps says, "Tell me this - [Now that we've ignited it...] Is there a way to extinguish the flames of passion [for reading] during...say, math?" First, how do you keep a straight face when someone says this to you? Second, she was dead serious which was even better. And third, isn't this one of the best problems in the world to have?

To sum it all up, in the words of a young man I stopped to give guidance to today,

   "Thank you. You've given me peace. No...really...thank you."

Love,
me

Zen

2011-03-15T21:39:00.003-05:00

Today,

one thing kept leading to another

-which is almost never good-

and I wound myself up in a whole mess of

yo-yo knots.

I know you know what I'm talking about.

We've all done it...

Every adult on the planet has given a kid a yo-yo and watched as they managed to turn that string into a tangle of knots, so mangled, no Boy Scout would ever figure it out.

And today,

I wound
myself
into a mess of yo-yo knots.

Why?
Because
I'm
awesome
like that.

I also reminded my principal of my awesomeness...
(because I'm currently doing this on a two day on/two day off rotational basis)

and proceeded to remind her it's totally cool with me if she pays for THAT..eerrrrrr MY position next year.
(because I'm currently doing this on a two day on/two day off rotational basis)

(You know, in case she forgets)

To which, she said to me, "You know, sometimes the door that opens..."

I'd tell you the rest but I can't remember it because I stopped listening right there ON PURPOSE. The last time someone started talking to me about windows and doors, outlooks and views I was on my way out and I hadn't asked to move.

-No thank you.-

Then I came home and saw this laying on my kitchen table...

"The only zen you find at the top of a mountain is the zen you bring up there."

and this...

"If you want to be free, Be Free."

I wrote them down a few days ago because I liked them - they made me smile. I needed to read that after the long, wind myself in knots sort of, day I had.

Knots are so overrated.

Be zen.

I hate you.

2011-03-14T23:27:00.001-05:00

Last week, someone went and did it.

   (I'd avoided it for so long and they just threw it out there...)

   (so...)

   (so...)

   (casually)

...calling me a writer.

   Come on, now.

Who does that?

   (pasting labels on me like that)

I mean,

yeah

I write stuff

down,

but

I'm

no

writer.

And, while I've got your attention.

   There's something I'd like to say to the double spaced paper.

I

HATE

YOU.

You have no character,

   -NO personality-

And, you are ugly.

I

   hate

you.

Good night.

Reflecting

2011-03-08T22:51:00.007-06:00

A few weeks ago, I sat down at my computer and labored over the words I hoped would give a fantastic teacher her due moment in the sun.

A couple of weeks ago, I rushed into an impromptu Friday faculty meeting, Ricky's 7 year old birthday cupcake still fresh in my hand, and smiled with relief when I recognized my Hall Center colleagues in the audience.

My fantastic teacher was going to get her moment!

You can imagine my surprise when they reached for that second bouquet of flowers...

was stunned,

truly honored,

and humbled.

really

was

-completely-

unexpected.

Well...

Since then, I've been asked to write a five million page essay summarizing my philosophies on life, love, Twinkies, Andromeda, and...

...wait a second! It's five pages! Just five pages?

How am I supposed to fit ALL of that in five teeny, tiny pages?

Ahhhh, I see it now! They want me to summarize my reading coach philosophy. That's all? They don't want to know the rest? But it's all so good.

Seriously.

These people have no idea what they're going to miss.

I've been thinking for days about what I should tell the mystical Florida Literacy Coaches Association about myself and I have to tell you...

(I've got nothin')

It's hard to verbalize something that I do so intuitively. I'm not one to give up without a fight though. I've been reflecting on an entire educational career's worth of journal entries, thoughts, notes, and what have you's.

Here's where I am tonight. Some brought a tear to my eye, others made me smile. I hope you see the beauty in all of them.

How about the first poem I shared with my second graders every year?

Dreams
Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreams 
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Or this from an old plan book I pulled from my drawer:

"Smart people do not have all the answers- they have the 
willingness and the capability to find the answers.  My job 
is not to give them all the information they will ever need in 
a lifetime.  My job is to give them the vision, the hunger, and 
the tools to acquire knowledge throughout their entire lifetime."

Of course, then there's Albert Einstein.  He probably sums up 
my whole vision...my entire belief system in this, tiny, nut shell:

"Everybody is a genius.  But if you judge a fish by its ability
 to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."

PaulaWalla - Second Grade Teacher


I called them to the carpet and had them sit in a circle. 
It'd been a weird day with all sorts of schedule changes and procedural
upheaval as the school rallied around the third, fourth, and fifth graders
taking state exams.  I've got to give my kiddos credit, they handled it
better than I thought they would and even though it was obvious some of them
were a little rattled, we didn't just make it through the day without
incident... we made it through the day AND we learned stuff.

As they sat on our blue carpet, at 2:00 this afternoon, I told
them I wanted to share my favorite thing that happened during the day.

"Everyone was at their tables during guided reading jobs
and choices.  I was talking to Angel about his book while I helped Derek
write his story.  I'd asked Angel why he liked the book he read... 'Do you
like the pictures, is the story funny, or is it because of all the really cool
fish?' Angel wasn't sure but Derek said, 'I like the graphics!' and Kirklin
said, 'I don't like fish but I do like pistachios.  I LOVE
pistachios!  Pistachios are yummy.' "

You could see their eyes light up as I shared what I'd
remembered from a conversation we'd had so much earlier in the day.  Then
I told them we'd go around the circle and everyone could share their own favorite
moment from our day.  Answers ranged from playing with a best friend at
recess to the math problem I asked them to help me solve before lunch but the
one that I'll never forget was Derek's.

He pulled out the story we'd been working on, held it up just
below his chin, and said "This.  This was my favorite thing
today."  Then he stood up and walked across the circle. 
Standing in front of me was a boy who, four months ago, told me 'I try not to
get discouraged because I can't do this stuff but it hurts...' and I could see
tears in the corner of his eyes as he reached out and hugged me. 

Derek's an amazing little guy and I tell him that all the
time.  He can't read but he's never let that stop him.  Eight years
old and the alphabet is an obstacle he just can't seem to conquer... but wow,
he is so freaking amazing.  Today I remember telling him how much I
enjoyed his stories - what a great writer he was. 

-sigh-

Derek's the kind of kid that reminds me why I signed up for
this, why I'm still here. You know?

And now a small treat for you writers out there, Derek's story.













Now, how about ending this the way I do it with the kiddos?
Bye, I love ya, and I can't wait to see you tomorrow!


...And it
will probably be with colour


Yesterday, one of my students picked up a book on Van Gogh 
and nestled herself into a corner.  After reading a while, I saw her 
digging through the spiral bins with an ink pen clamped between 
her teeth.  When she realized I was watching, she told me she 
wanted to write down some of the "cool" stuff she was learning.


I laughed and told her I couldn't complain about that. 
The day got away from me, the way most days generally do, and I never
made my way back to the studious girl that afternoon.  As I picked up my 
things and walked towards the door, I saw her spiral splayed open at her table.  
Here's the first thing she'd written...


"You can't be at the pole and the equator at the same time.  You must choose

your own line, as I hope to do, and it will probably be with colour."  
Vincent Van Gogh ( 1853-1890)

It seems I'm not the only one reading Vincent's letters to his brother, Theo, at the
moment...

His
Tiny Blue Letters
Monday
March 5, 2007
PaulaWalla's Second Grade Classroom
Our Class Motto:  Never Give Up, Encourage Others, Do the Best You Can.

It wasn't even eight o'clock.
He came in, finished his morning math problems before the others
had unpacked, then unstacked the last of our little blue chairs.  He stood
beside me as I wrote our schedule on the board and told me about his
weekend.  Now that he's feeling better, his mom said he can play baseball
again.  He smiled. 
He told me he loved me.  
I told him I loved him too.  

Then, I think I said he ought to find his Magic Tree House book and read a
chapter or two.  He said he would - just as soon as he was done.  I looked 
over from what I was doing to see the boy who loves pistachios cap a blue 
dry erase marker. 
In tiny letters across the bottom of my board, he'd written part
of our class motto.













He smiled a gap toothed grin as he shrugged, " I thought we
could use that down there today.  Can we leave it?"


"Of course we can."


...and we did.



If I told you I'm through

      would you believe me?


I


give


up.


White flags.  
Where are the white flags?  
I need a thousand white flags. No, I need thousands and thousands...  
Thousands and thousands of white flags.  I don't just want you to know 
I'm done.  I want everyone to know.  Must I blanket the earth? 

Perhaps.

---

A good friend of mine called on Wednesday.  She wanted advice 
on something that had been troubling her for weeks - something pretty major.  
She'd taken her little girl out of kindergarten at the beginning of February, 
to homeschool her, and wanted to know what she should do next year.  
She was torn over which grade to send her back to, first or second, 
because M is a smart little cookie and she's older than the other kids in her class.

This is one of my better friends.  I met her the year I became a second 
grade teacher and her little boy was in my class.  It was his first year in 
public school, her first year sending all her little kiddos off to public school, 
and my first year as a mommy.  We've been through a lot together.

After listening to her for most of an hour and taking everything in, I told her I 
didn't think it mattered where M goes.  This was a life lesson both she and 
M were meant to learn.  My friend's lesson was one about control.  That we 
can't control everything - that we can't always fix it, no matter how much we 
want to or wish we could. 

M's lesson was one of self-acceptance and coping.  She was going to be 
M no matter where she was.  It didn't matter if she was in first grade or fifth 
grade, second grade or seventh.  She's always going to be tall, she's always 
going to have her beautiful curly hair, she'll always be smart and quick witted, 
she'll even have the glasses, and people will love her and think she's cool.  But 
she's got to believe in herself before she'll see how much everyone else does. 
My friend and I continued talking for a long time and we touched on all sorts of
things.  Both of us felt better as hours passed and it got later. She said I'd helped 
her see things in a brand new way, she thanked me for that.

---

I teach a night class on Thursday nights for parents who want to understand math 
(more specifically - this new fangled math we teach now-a-days) and learn how 
to help their children.  The night class is part of an innovative plan in my school 
district that is not only dedicated to teaching children, but also the continuing 
education of teachers and parents. 

Teachers in my school district receive ongoing training (to develop their own 
mathematical skills) for four years and receive follow-up support all year long 
regarding the curriculum.  They've done this by empowering teachers as teachers.  
Teachers become math leaders who guide other teachers.  It creates an awesome 
system of camadre, fellowship, and learning. 

Thursday was the last class of this training session.  As one of my favorite parents 
picked up his things to leave, he thanked me.  He said I was funny and made him 
look forward to class, that he learned a lot and wished they'd do it again (hold more 
classes).

---

A teacher emailed me last month. 

She wanted to let me know she was in the middle of a math lesson going horribly
wrong when she remembered something I'd told her in a training.  She did
whatever it was I'd said and everything came out hunky dory.  She said she
appreciated me.

-----

Friday at three o'clock, every teacher in my elementary school received a letter 
in their mailbox.  The letter was our principal's way of telling us our teaching 
assignments for next year.  Usually, a teacher stays right where she is unless 
she wants something new or the principal needs something and has been talking to
you. 

I got my letter just like everyone else.

I should've known what was going to be written on it.  I've been telling people 
I thought something was going to happen but they told me I was nuts so I 
shrugged it off. I'm not a second grade teacher anymore.

The principal never asked me. She never brought it up in casual conversation.  
She just decided I would do something else. 

I don't want her excuses.  I don't want her false praise.  She's taking away the two things 
I was holding on to right now, the two things I know I do well, the two things that
still make me smile after working a 15 hour day.  

She's taking away second grade but she's also taking away the math.

Poof.

Just like that.

In an instant.

One sheet of paper

and the last of who I knew I was

is gone.

----


I'm done.



(...turns out, 


that may have only been the beginning after all.)

Horizons...

2011-03-06T23:22:00.001-06:00

I've been working on something for three or four days now, writing as I drive...fold laundry...sweep floors (wait, I don't sweep floors, do I?)...cook dinner. Unfortunately, the only time I haven't been writing is at the laptop, the legal pad, or my journal. It's aggravating but the words will be shared - I am certain.

Tonight, as I combed through old files and old postings, looking for something I needed, I happened across a random blog I'd posted at 5:46pm on December 29th, 2007. It was aptly titled, The Horizon.

The Horizon

A friend asked me to tell you ten things I hope to do before I die.

Here we go...

10. Inspire Someone.

9. Share.

8. Find my grace.

7. Read the books written by my students.

6. See the importance in the little things.

5. Hang Ruth's paintings in a museum.

4. Sing in a band.

3. Love.

2. Ride more roller coasters.

1. The Horizon... I think it's time to open my eyes and take everything in.

... I wrote this two months after surviving -the lowest- moments of my entire life and just two weeks after meeting Ben. I was still dangling somewhere in between loss and love.

I'd completely forgotten about this list but now that I've unearthed it, here's what I've learned:

10. Inspire Someone... I do this every day and, it turns out, the inspiring bit is that I do all the things I do.

9. Share... Every day, friends...every...single...day. It's what makes me smile.

8. Find my grace....I may never have grace but perhaps that -is- my grace?

7. Read the books written by my students.

6. See the importance in the little things... Yes! I finally got this.

5. Hang Ruth's paintings in a museum...or on her sister's bedroom wall...or the refrigerator...or in my office. I'm impressed that I hung them.

4. Sing in a band. (I think we ought to forget that I used to sing - it's bad ya'll) I did join a great barber shop group when I moved to Florida though...

3. Love...Sigh, between Ben and Ruth and that sweet cheeked baby, I have found love and the ability to feel love and give love. I will never doubt this again (I hope).

2. Ride more roller coasters...Ruth loves roller coasters too! We rode her first grown up roller coaster together last month.

1. The Horizon... I think it's time to open my eyes and take everything in....Two weeks ago, on my way to work, I glanced behind me as I drove over the bridge (changing lanes) and caught a glimpse of the sunrise reflecting over the ocean. It honestly took my breath...so much so that I pulled over to record the moment in the tiny pink book I carry everywhere.

That Thursday morning was life changing. I remember smiling as I pulled my car over to the side of the parkway and enjoying the extra three or four minutes I took to enjoy the sun dancing on the water. I also remember telling myself not to forget it because it's important to take time (from time to time) to stop and watch the sunrise.

I don't know about ya'll but I think I may need to start a new list. It looks to me as though it may be time for me to expand my horizons just a bit. ;)

Love,

I know (and that's enough)

2011-03-06T01:12:00.000-06:00

Today, I almost wish I kept an old fashioned, paper/pencil diary to pen my thoughts because I'm not entirely sure everyone needs to be reading what I really want to be writing.

Today, I wish I could tell them they are ridiculous. That they act like fools. Today I wish I could tell them I can't stand the way they make drama out of EVERYthing...how centimeters suddenly become inches and inches become miles and how miles become treacherous and barren and wrought with monsters and demons.

Today, I wish they would recognize the present and the true. I wish they would realize what is passing by right in front of them...what they're missing because they can't see the forest for the...well...for the trees laden with demons and dragons (apparently).

Today, I almost called them but decided that would be a mistake. It doesn't do any good. They don't listen when I do...

Today, I don't care if they understand or not...if they continue or they stop and

Today, I'm giving up.

They can do whatever they want.

They Go Together

2011-02-27T12:04:00.005-06:00

So, it turns out I do frown from time to time. I also scrunch up my forehead, wrinkle my nose, bite my lip, and... cry.

For a month, my family has been teetering out of balance.

   ...a sad, desperate feeling.

From the moment I first heard his voice, felt his hand wrap around mine...watched him laugh, I knew I would follow him to the ends of the Earth.

I love him.

.

..

...

This month I realized there is no end to the Earth. It spins and turns and rolls around and around and around but it NEVER ends and I will be following Ben forever. And just as suddenly as I'd decided to follow him I felt beaten down and mislead. Love is powerful but it's hard to always be second in order of importance and the nature of Ben's job simply requires me to...well...sort of just always be...second in order of importance.

Realizing this has made me sad.

Then Ruth walked up to us on our anniversary, pulled two cards out of her backpack, and said, "I made these for you today! They go together - See!"

Then she placed my card inside Ben's and smiled.

A gesture so simple yet so true.

(because)

We do go together.

... and in my own heart,

I believe

   my heart

is a part of

   - his-

so her card

is

absolutely

perfect.

If Ruth were President...

2011-02-23T14:52:00.001-06:00

She's got big ambitions... that girl of mine. Somehow, I don't think being president is part of them.

I am comforted that she believes she would be able to help people.

...and hey, there'd be a globe. Like a real, spherical globe! She could spin it around and everything! It wouldn't be some crazy computerized, digital map like we make her use now.

(Lucky)

I've been meaning to...

2011-02-20T22:34:00.000-06:00

write about Ben coming home, our adventures in Disney World, the baby who never stops babbling, and the girl who knows more than any seven year old should but time always gets away from me.

It's coming...

For now, I've been dealing with tall tales of the three foot kind (would you believe she lies?) along with a sudden work stoppage (she also decided to stop doing school work). Who is this child? And why is she doing this to me?

-sigh-

I've so little life left to give and she's sucking it out of me breath by shallow breath.

Counting Backwards

2011-01-30T10:10:00.002-06:00

I was too busy living, and loving, and squeezing every last squeezable moment from last week to sit down and type about them. I will forgive myself tomorrow but today? Today, I will count backwards.

7. Ruth just ate ice cream and microwave sausages for breakfast because she doesn't mind at all if the ice cream is covered in ice crystals - ice crystals give it "flavor." She also had sweet tea... sweet tea that she drank from a glitter lamb glass through her self assembled (two foot long) crazy straw.

6. Bells rode in her stroller for the first time without her car seat on Saturday. Of course, she really had no other choice - we traded the infant seat in for two big kid car seats. I will do anything for a discount...

5. Ruth brought home another straight A report card. Typing it makes me ask myself two things:

Do I under-celebrate her achievement? I treat each progress report and report card the same way my family treated mine. I take them out of her backpack, I look them over, I high-five her for continuing to work hard and talk to her briefly about focus, blah, blah, blah. Then I ask her if there's anything she wants to talk about before I sign it and put it back in her folder. There's no parade, no party, no pulling out my wallet or trip to the toy store. I basically just expect her to do what she's capable of and...well...that's all there is to it I guess.

What on Earth am I going to do the first time she brings home a grade less than 100? I fear I may have ruined her in kindergarten when I would tell her 80s are not "almost" A's - they are B's and C's are, in fact, not almost like B's they are C's and they're actually more like F's than A's and (while we were talking about it...) she was capable of making A's so I expected her to make them. I may or may not have also told her (sometime since then) that students who are capable of making one hundreds should strive for them...

4. I told someone, "You're only going to experience today, TODAY. Live it up! Enjoy it!" and as soon as I said it I smiled because I think I may have needed to hear those words myself.

3. I went into Bells room to wake her up for school. She rubbed her eyes, pulled her binky out of her mouth, and GIGGLED. That is the best possible way to start the day - baby laughs.

2. ...buttoning jeans without holding your breath or painfully sucking it in. YES.

1. I fell asleep on the couch with my husband every single night this week while something I know I wanted to watch whirred on DVR.

Oh, and right now? Right now an adorable baby is taking a nap, Ruth is sprawled across her bedroom floor, playing with her new squinky addiction, and Ben is recovering from his eighth morning of waking up before dawn with the baby so I can sleep all of my hours consecutively. I am on my third cup of coffee AND I am very, very lucky.

Love,
me

A Snow(y) Day.

2011-01-23T23:21:00.003-06:00

A week or so ago, I found myself sharing a conversation with my principal about making time for what's important.

Not just making time, but carving it... out of schedules, and calendars, and lives that oftentimes feel as though they've been poured from concrete.

We both sat there, our work clearly stacked in piles to the right and left of us and spread before us in uneven heaps and hiccups, and talked about friendships, and relationships, and balance. Which, I think makes some bit of sense considering it was nearing five o'clock and we'd been dissecting data for two days by then.

We were matching up calendars one last time before heading out. I reminded her Ruth was taking me to Disney World soon and she chimed in she'd scheduled a trip to the mountains.

A trip to the mountains?

During the school year?

(I gasped!)

She nodded, kicked back in her chair, and said, "I never would have done something like this but... "

"My friend asked me to."

(and she still wasn't going to go)

And then her friend sent her one of those emails... the forwarded kind with the music and the quotes and the pictures. The kind I usually delete without ever reading.

(and she changed her mind)

Then we read that email together and I completely understood. My principal clicked through the slides and I heard myself telling her, "Oh, that's good - I need to write that down." She told me she'd always wanted to see snow like this...

Before I walked out of her office that day I had a renewed sense of confidence that I am in the right place at the right time.

I also couldn't get this book out of my head...

One of the slides in my principal's email said, "Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about."

I couldn't agree more but I'd also be lying if I didn't tell you that all I've thought about since reading that quote is, "...life is about the journey."

Because it is, isn't it? If life was all about the destination would we bother calling it living? I don't want to be remembered for the end - I want to be remembered for every fine day that comes before it. And for that matter... I don't want to get to the end and have nothing to remember.

...Which leads to a whole other radical thought entirely! I'm not going to wait for someone to tell me something is special. Oh no, I think I'll make every single day special because...(scans the room for naysayers) I can.

I might even...

Take a snow day...

(at the beach)

(in March for that matter)

or teach a five year old how to color on napkins,

or the seven year old how to fold paper flowers,

or pull over on the side of the road just to look at the flowers...

(why not?)

(No, really...why not?)

.
..
..
...
.
.
...It's mine, so why not make it special?

Fisherman's Woman...

2011-01-15T11:33:00.002-06:00

This song has been going round and round inside by head for weeks. It probably doesn't help that I keep putting it through my itunes or listening to it all the way to work... but I think it would be spinning around in spite.

Eric told me to buy this cd a lifetime ago. I liked this song then but it wasn't until I happened back across it sometime in October that I caught myself lingering over it...

(you should listen)

Fisherman's Woman
I'm pretending to be a good fisherman's woman
Just like Anna Ingunn's mom
The gladiator of all fisherman's wives
Makes it a lot easier thinking of you
On the sea where you have to be a month at a time
Working hard in the day
Your hands cracking from the cold and the salt
In the night when you go to bed
You try to sleep by listening to the boat breathing
The boat breathing
And the only thing
The only thing you can think of is me
Waiting for you by the window
With the brightest red lipstick on my lips
Just like Anna waits for her man
How will I learn
I'll wait

I know why I'm so attached to this song right now.

I'm pretending to be a good Air Force wife.
Isn't that what most of us do? Everyday?
Because they're gone all the time...
And really, the only thing that does make it easier
is to believe that the
-only thing-
he can really think of
is me.

A Resolution

2011-01-11T21:11:00.003-06:00

We are eleven (almost twelve) days into 2011 and I have yet to pen the requisite affirmation of change.

What is up with that?

I didn't really think it would matter if I wrote it today or last week or three weeks from now - how eye opening/jaw dropping is that? I know, right?

(And I smile)

It's just that...well...I think I've been quietly working on my resolution for a while now. I'm not even sure if I can tell you how long.

(Resolution? Happy is good. Happy is so good I will strive for it instead of expecting it to happen.)

One day I just decided happy was so much better than all the other options but, more importantly, I also realized that sometimes it requires a little bit of effort. Yes, that is what I decided. And here are some things in the journal that make me think I'm heading in the right direction.

(From the Journal)
12/28/2010
10:14pm
Found while scrounging the internet...

"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows." - Helen Keller

(and from two journals ago...)

"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." - Thoreau

What am I getting at?

While I appreciate the unsolicited happiness that so often washes over me, this year, I'm taking happy to a whole new level.

I'm looking for it,
paying special attention to it,
and taking every opportunity to spread it.

You do, after all, reap what you sow.

How 'bout I sign off with something that made me extremely happy yesterday?

Ruth came out of her bedroom and said, "Mom, did you know every single thing on my body has some shade of purple in it (even my underwear)? " Then she laughed, shook her head side to side, and said, "People won't believe I managed to find so much purple - it is PRETTY impressive."

Love,

We've Got Things To Do

2011-01-09T20:35:00.005-06:00

On a cold, blustery, December day Ruth and I tossed her bright purple suitcases into the back of the car and started driving towards an airport in Panama City. We passed through towns, over bridges and drove side by side mile upon mile of white sand beach and turquoise ocean. I told Ruth the ocean was extremely beautiful that day (because it was) and she looked up from her book, glanced out the window, and concurred.

Then she sighed one of those big sighs (the sort where you know there was no air left in her tiny body when she'd finished) and she said, "I wish we didn't have to be somewhere today because I'd tell you to pull this car over right now and take me to that beach so we could sit in the sand in our ordinary clothes and watch those waves. I mean...why live at the ocean if you're never going to take a day to sit there and enjoy it?"

I, of course, completely agreed.

And I really wished we didn't have to be somewhere.

But we did.

So I told her one of these days we would go to the beach in our ordinary clothes and watch the waves.

Then I leaned forward, messed with the radio a bit, and kept driving.

Ruth closed her book and gently laid it across her lap. Then she said, "Will you hand me your journal and an ink pen? I need to write something down so I don't forget."

When she was finished, this is what I had...

... all the things I nonchalantly tell her "Sure, we can do that" but she apparently believes we'll never do. She handed my journal back to me and explained, " I made sure I opened your book to the middle and wrote all the way across so you can find it without looking. Everything we're supposed to do is written and I left room for anything else we think of. I even marked the spot!"

Have I mentioned how much Ruth walks and talks and acts like me?

(well...anyway...)

(I think half the pages in the last two journals are hers)

This year I've decided to pay more attention to the details because...

well...

isn't that the good stuff?

So, if Ruth wants to sit in the sand with her clothes on and stare at the ocean, I think we ought to sit in the sand with our clothes on and stare at the ocean.

And Sunday, that's exactly what we did.

Love,
me

Two Peas in a Pod

2011-01-08T15:29:00.000-06:00

...or is that two dogs in a bun?

Ruth and I totally rocked the twin look on Thursday (and the awesome hot dog shirt) if I do say so myself.

It's been almost eight years now and even without the awesome matching hot dog shirts people still stop us practically every day to tell us how strikingly alike we are. While I tend to disagree with the masses about which family tree Ruth's leaf resembles, she continues to grow and evolve into a smaller, mightier, perhaps braver version of me...

I walk around with a three foot tall, seven and a half year old, pig tailed copy of... me (who's nearing the age of 33). I'm not sure if I should be proud of her or concerned (because it's got to be rough going through second grade in your thirties) but I gotta be honest - most days I just soak up having someone around who rides the same wave length I do. And Ruth definitely rides that wave.

Love,
me

Walk with me for a minute...

2011-01-03T21:39:00.002-06:00

So these are my shoes...probably MY MOST FAVORITE shoes and if I'm not wearing flip flops you can almost bet your paycheck I've got these on. These shoes have walked everywhere. You think I'm kidding? I've probably been wearing this particular pair more than five years.

They really have walked everywhere...

Well, yesterday the new pair arrived on my doorstep in the plain brown and black box I know so well.

Gasp! They...are...so...beautiful...

... And I'm certain it wasn't until I took those blinding white shoes out of their box that I realized just how lived in and loved my old pair was.

Just look at all the living I've been doing! As I trade one pair in for another I can't help but look to the future and wonder what this pair has waiting for it.

New Rules

2010-12-29T13:09:00.001-06:00

I've decided Ben and Ruth are not allowed to be absent at the same time. The emptiness in my house when the two people who currently own the largest parts of my heart are gone is just too much. From now on, one of them must be home at all times.

(Too bad I have absolutely no power to enforce the rule.)

Love,
me

Some Days are Better than Others

2010-12-28T20:59:00.000-06:00

I'm pretty sure today was one of the others.

It was beautiful outside though. I have to give someone credit for my crisp air, blue skies and sunshine.

Too bad the sky matched my mood.

Strawberries

2010-12-23T20:12:00.001-06:00

Ruth's in Texas for Christmas.

Ruth is absolutely over the moon about being in Texas for Christmas.

I am absolutely over the moon pretty much any time Ruth is over the moon about something, so I believe that means I'm over the moon about Ruth being over the moon about being in Texas.

(Did you follow that?)

Yesterday, Ruth's stepmom called to tell me Ruth had found strawberries at the farmer's market.

The reason that was so important?

Because Ruth insisted Carolyn buy them (for me) and told her she needed to bring them home (in her suitcase) because I love strawberries.

I smiled.

Okay, I kept smiling.

I told Carolyn, "She was thinking about me!" in my I'mreallyproudRuth'smydaughter voice because I was really feeling the love when Carolyn said...

"Oh definitely! And she talks about you all the time... to anyone and everyone who will listen!"

and if I'd stopped smiling at all in the nano seconds before

I smiled huge-erer.

(or more ginormacantically?)

Because I weave Ruth into every conversation too.

It's kind of hard not to, you know?

I love her.

Love,
me

“What fun is it being cool if you can't wear a sombrero?"

2010-12-22T08:39:00.000-06:00

-Calvin and Hobbes (Bill Waterson)

That's sort of how I feel when Ben isn't around. Being amazing and awesome and incredible is...

well...

It's

-okay-

but let's be honest here.

How much fun can amazing, awesome, or incredible really be when:

I still have to carry the groceries inside all by myself?

there’s no one to wash the dishes after I worked so hard on the hot dogs and macaroni and cheese?

I still have to carry the groceries inside all by myself?

I’m the only person in the whole house who remembers how to fold clothes?

I realize I need milk for breakfast an hour after I put all the kids to bed?

I still have to carry the groceries inside all by myself?

I just want to sit down?

I can’t figure out why the light on my dashboard keeps flashing?

I still have to carry the groceries inside all by myself?

there’s no one to talk to after the kids are asleep?

I never get to see my best friend?

I still have to carry the groceries inside all by myself?

I’m so alone?

there’s no one to laugh when I mistell the joke?

I always have to drive (EVERYWHERE)?

I still have to carry the groceries inside all by myself?

Ben is kind of sort of important…

He’s the salt on my crackers, the cool whip on my pie… the pepperoni on my pizza.

Life with Ben is like getting to wear the sombrero.
Life without Ben pretty much just stinks.

Love,
me

Lists about Chri... Me and You (I love you).

2010-12-12T20:33:00.001-06:00

I told him I needed a list.

A Christmas list, more precisely.

Ben always finds the most perfect gifts. You open a box or unwrap paper from him and you feel loved.

He's thoughtful.

He's also amazing and loving and kind and...

so completely complete that I find it impossible to walk through a store and buy things for him.

(sigh)

I want Ben to feel as loved as I do when he opens his presents (because that's the reason I give them, isn't it?) so I don't really think it would be fair to give him three woot.com t-shirts again this year (no matter how awesome they are).

And that, my friends, is why I asked for a list.

That may also be why he delivered...

Well, after thinking long and hard about what I want for Christmas I came to a conclusion. How could I want anything when I have you. I figured of course that wasn't the answer you were looking for, so I came up with a list of ideas for you. Not necessarily a list of what I want, but a list of things I like, to help refresh your memory.

- Blue
- Legos
- Model Rockets (i.e. Estes brand)
- Remote Controlled...
- Fishing
- good reels are Daiwa, Abu Garcia, and Penn (I lack a good Spinning Reel, but my Bait Casting Reels are in bad shape too)
- good rods are Ugly Stick, Daiwa, Abu Garcia (There are a lot of good Rod/Reel Combos out there)
- Just go ask a pro. There are Bait and Tackle shops down there. (tell them where I fish versus what I fish for) Plus, you could always ask someone like Logan.
- Video Games
- Star Wars: The Force Unleashed 2
- 007
- Science Stuff
- Going to the Movies with you
- More time in the day
- Oh yeah...You!!

I hope this list helps. I did list a couple of other ideas under certain categories only to let you know what I don't have in those categories or to help you along the way. Well, Happy Shopping. Most of all, any thoughtful present from you would do just fine. After all, you know what I like.

Oh and by the way...I miss you and love you very much.

I wanted a list because I knew he would find something perfect for me and I wanted to find something perfect for him too. After reading his list I don't think either one of us needs to look very far.

Love,
me

"The Gods"

2010-12-08T00:18:00.000-06:00

Random conversations with Ruth often turn round and round inside my mind for days. There's something about the way she slips words into phrases that ...

well...

...make me stop and think.

Yesterday, I jokingly asked Ruth why she made it so cold outside. She put her hands on her hips, gave me a little of her trademark Ruthietude, and shrieked in her high pitched voice (for good measure), "I didn't make it cold outside!"

"Well, if you didn't do it then WHO did?" I demanded.

Her hands stayed on her hips, her chin went -almost- to her chest, and her eyes peered over the rim of those suddenly stern black glasses as she answered me in the most serious (are you kidding me) voices... "The Weather Gods."

Then she picked up her book and went right back to reading as though I'd never bothered her with such trivial talk.

This afternoon, Ruth and I were packing up the car for a trip to a friend's house. As she gathered up her peacock, her puppy, and her longhorn named Bevo she stopped and asked, "Do you believe if you make wishes on stars they come true?"

(we've had this talk lots and lots of times before)

"Yes," I tell her as I attempt to shove a diaper and a baby bottle down into my purse without spilling formula everywhere.

(she looks relieved)

"Me too!" she said, audibly sighing.

I was still trying to get the diaper and the baby bottle down into my purse (you'd think I'd know to throw this stuff into a diaper bag by now) and was only half listening (because I'm a horrible mother) so rather than say something crazy insightful I glanced up at my wide-eyed, beaming daughter and said, "Yeah?"

To which she said, "Yeah! Because stars hear your wishes and the stars are very close to the Gods who make things happen... So you should make wishes on the stars because your wishes are heard and the Gods can decide if they should be granted or not."

(I really ought to pay more attention to her)

(no...really)

(I also think we should pick up a few more books on mythology - apparently she digs that stuff)

Ruth may not realize it now but she and I've been talking to and wishing on stars for a long, long time...

And I'm not entirely sure who's responsible for granting the wishes but if she's any indication - then wishes certainly do come true.

Love,
me

Marshmallows

2010-12-05T16:20:00.000-06:00

I walked out of my bedroom this morning to Ruth, smiling through a mouthful of marshmallow, in my kitchen where she'd pulled her chair up to the counter and was blissfully eating her breakfast straight from the marshmallow jar.

Ruth built a ramshackle gingerbread house last week. She thought we were going to keep it in the middle of the kitchen table until Christmas Eve so Santa could eat it. I've convinced her to let me mail it to him instead... what she doesn't know won't kill her. ;)

There is leftover pizza in my refrigerator. I'm pretty sure I could solve that problem in one sitting (and there's a lot of pizza in there). Stuffed crust pizza should come in smaller sizes - it just isn't fair. I believe Pizza Hut should be held accountable for KNOWINGLY contributing to the obesity epidemic in America.

I think a helicopter is trying to land on my house (right now).

Why is it so much easier for me to make two pony tails than one? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

Five minutes after I threw Ruth's soda in the trash she informed me she was DYING of thirst. I told her she'd survive until we found a water fountain. Ten minutes later I asked her how she was doing. Her response? "I'm attempting to drink my spit. I don't recommend it. It isn't exactly satisfying."

I told Ruth I needed an ugly Christmas sweater for work. "Why would you buy an ugly sweater on purpose? That's ridiculous!" she shrieked. I told her that's what grown ups did when all the fun had been sucked from their lives. She actually nodded as if she understood then told me we would buy the ugliest sweater in the universe. Today... I believe Ruth found that sweater. She was extremely proud of herself. It would have been even better if I could have convinced her to buy one for herself while she was at it.

That's all I've got right now. Cranky Baby Pants has been Cranky Demanding Pants alllllll day. I need to go see what the ruckus is about.

Love,
me

Butterflies, Rocks, and Fairies

2010-12-04T21:52:00.002-06:00

Every

     single

time

I turn

on

     to

   our road

and catch glimpse

   of

his car

     sitting

in the driveway

-I forget-

     and

the

butterflies

     in

         my

stomach

   turn

     to

stones.

Missing him always hurts but it's in those subtle everyday moments of missing, where I often find myself, that...well...take my breath most.

Which brings me to something Ruth said this afternoon as we romped about town, running errands.
     "It feels good to release your feelings to someone else..."

I have to admit, it does.

Of course, that bit of wisdom came from the same girl who also asked me if I believed in fairies then proceeded to tell me, "Not believing in fairies is like not believing in air! I just don't understand how anyone could be so cavalier?"

(And for the record, I believe in fairies...)

Love Poems

2010-12-02T18:38:00.000-06:00

I came across something in a magazine yesterday (a magazine that had been flopped open on my living room ottoman since mid-November) and I liked it. I liked it very much. Of course, I liked it out of context but who says everything has to be in context?

Here you go:

"...by allowing reality to rise and be acknowledged. I don't mean the reality of the backward overalls, the irritation, and the striped socks. I mean the real reality, the truth about who each of us was and what it meant to be living our lives together."

The funny thing is, I liked it because I feel like the backward overalls, the irritation, and the striped socks -are- the real reality... without those quirks and turns in the road there'd be no living would there?

There was one other thing in that article that I liked...

"Prayers are not recipes or formulas; they are love poems. They need not be factual, but they must be true."

I like to think of each day as a love poem
(made up of all the genuine and true moments the day brings)

I give you today's love poem.

Ruth walked out of her bedroom this morning wearing these.

She was soooooooo excited.
"Mom, these are my "Perfect for Thursday Socks!"

---------------------------------

Driving home from school today, Ruth sniffled.
...and sniffled
and sniffled
...and sniffled
and sniffled.
After twenty minutes of sniffling she wipes her nose with the back of her hand, her arm... (her elbow?) sighs and says, "Mom, I'm coming down with something. It's probably something I ate. Oh no! What if I'm allergic to candy canes?"

-------------------------------------

Ruth appears to be deep in thought as she circles vowels in red and consonants in blue.
Ruth IS deep in thought (it just has nothing to do with spelling words)!
She turns to me and says, "Every day is Saturday if you're a dog UNLESS you're a working dog then I guess every day's a Monday...I'm sure Zeus and Cutie are glad they're not working dogs."

Love,
me (and Ruth)

Eaten Alive by my Own Cookies...

2010-12-01T22:06:00.001-06:00

I need more sleep.

I've been grumpy and mean, short tempered and short fused.

Today

was

not

a

good

day.

Ruth and I had plans to begin our Christmas cookie baking extravaganza today because, as Ruth pointed out this morning, today is the very first day of December. Things didn't really work out the way either of us planned. She wasn't on her A game and I managed to pick apart every teeny tiny mistake and misdecision she made.

Then we were four minutes late for gymnastics.

I (quite less than graciously) informed her she would NOT be making any cookies with me this evening.

She came home from gymnastics.
She finished her math homework.
She cleaned her room.
She took a five minute -speed- bath.
She ate leftover pancakes and microwave bacon for dinner.
She brushed her teeth.
She went to bed.

A couple of hours later I thought I should make sure she had a snack in her backpack for tomorrow and that's when I found this...

(sigh)

(sigh a huge, guilt-ridden sigh)

She was so excited about our Christmas custom she wrote about it. And it's not just ANY custom, oh noooooo! It's her favorite custom.

What in the world is wrong with me?

I believe I was eaten alive by my own stupid cookies.

Tomorrow, Ruth. Tomorrow, I promise you... we will bake and you can frost every single one of them.

I love you.

Love,
me

6:14 am

2010-11-30T21:27:00.000-06:00

I knew what time it was without even looking as I threw the Durango into reverse and began backing us out of the driveway this morning.

Ruth, however, just recently discovered that the radio tucked into the dash also broadcasts the time and I'm certain she's obsessed with it.

We're supposed to leave the house by six.

Not 6:04.

Not 6:01.

And ABSOLUTELY not 6:14.

Yet, for reasons I can't seem to explain...

it

happens

every

single

day.

I used to get frustrated. I used to stress out. Heck, I used to (dare I admit it?) yell. When I realized my seven year old was giving me advice on how to get out of the house faster, earlier, and calmer I decided I might want to rethink what was going on. I rethought it. I realized I still get to work four minutes before I'm required to when I leave the house at 6:14 and that's the day I decided 6:14 was okay.

I just never told Ruth.

Because, hey... if there's a slim chance we -might- get out of the house "on time" that would be SOINCREDIBLYAWESOME.

Anyway...

Back to today.

I knew what time it was without even looking.

As I pulled out of our neighborhood, Ruth checked the clock and said, "6:14... That's not too bad. We're only fourteen minutes late today, mom. I think you're going to be alright."

I glanced at her in the rearview mirror and smiled, "You think so?"

"Yeah, it's Tuesday. Tuesdays are good days. You won't be late and besides... fourteen minutes isn't a lot of time. You're going to be just fine."

Then she leaned over and started tickling her sister.

She's right. Tuesdays are good days, fourteen minutes isn't a lot of time, and I -am- going to be just fine.

Love,
me

Learning Curve

2010-11-28T23:01:00.000-06:00

(sigh)

It's like psyching yourself up for the big game... going home for the holidays.

This year I told myself everything was going to be cool because I've become so cool and laid back.

(Apparently, I'm Zen)

(I kind of like Zen)

For the most part, everything was cool and it probably was because I've become so cool and laid back.

Isabella and I travelled for seven hours all by ourselves [the day before Thanksgiving] and I arrived with a small skip to my step and a smile even though I'd already dragged my five month old up a twenty foot vertical embankment, hiked half a mile, and pretty near been strip searched before I ever got on a plane that day.

The baby didn't like the change in her location or her routine and let me know by waking up every day, bright and early, at three thirty in the morning. I wasn't in my normal location or routine which meant I'd been staying up late, visiting and taking care of things like baking and laundry... I wonder if they knew I was running on three to four hours worth of fumes (at most) every day I was there?

The visit was good.

I learned a lot.

I learned my older than 80 years old grandma suddenly feels the burning desire to drive again. I also learned she can't see anything in what she calls "middle vision."

I learned Wendy is not the only Willey with the gift of bringing the living back from the very brink of death. I tell you this now, if I EVER, and I do mean EVER need nursed back from the edge... they have a willingness, a desire, and a gift I only hope they see fit to share with me.

I learned Ruthie does not care for Rodeo brand hot dogs but she will pretend they are wheels and roll them across the table if she thinks you will laugh.

I learned there is a right place and a wrong place to shoot a wild boar.

I learned I'm not the only one Isabella throws up on... she will also throw up on Aunt Doretha.

I learned everyone changes - just not the way you wish they would...

I learned Aunt Doretha doesn't have internet. I didn't know it was possible not to have internet in 2010.

I learned the favorite part of Ruth's trip was going to the zoo with her dad and Carolyn.

I learned that my mom really can play farmville anywhere (I think that's a pretty keen skill)... someone told me she even plays it on her cruises - that's pretty wicked cool.

I learned it's possible to continuously get lost in the same place over and over and over again (each time) for hours and hours and hours and never think to call and ask someone for directions.

I learned my dad is in love with his grandbabies just as much as he is with me.

I learned you can't always believe what you hear but you can probably believe what you see.

I learned grandmas have hearts bigger than their bodies.

I learned to remember I'm grown up and my two baby girls look up to me so I have to act like I'm grown up.

I learned you don't cook cheese toast on the bottom oven rack - it burns.

I learned, "Everyone needs a helper sometimes."

I learned that not everyone will understand but then remembered that I knew that before I got there (and I was already okay with it).

I learned I'm loved.

.

..

...

This trip was huge for me. I walked into it with the calmest of attitudes... I was going to show up, eat turkey, play with my baby and my best girl, and hang out with my family. I had no expectations, no plans, and no designs.

I left feeling stressed, exhausted, and frustrated. Perhaps I shouldn't have gone into it so nonchalant?

There was a learning curve.

Apparently, just because I had no plans, no expectations, and no designs didn't mean everyone else came without them too. And apparently, just because I had no plans, no expectations, and no designs didn't mean that I wouldn't be involved in someone else's...

It's hard to live up to someone else's expectations when you aren't aware or expecting to be inside them.

But alas, if you were looking, that's where you would have found me - right in the middle of their expectations.

I guess I really can't blame them though. Part of me was half hoping/half expecting them to be someone they weren't either...

I'd apologize for not giving them what they wanted except I think who they wanted is a lesser quality kind of person. If they'd have hung around long enough I think they'd have realized "Zen" is pretty good (and I can be funny too).

(and I sigh again)

What can you do?

Nothing, right?

Well, that's not entirely true. I can remember not to toast the cheese toast on the bottom oven rack - it burns.

Love,
me

Life Lessons

2010-11-26T21:32:00.001-06:00

Tonight, two Ruths sat shoulder to shoulder at the dining room table, one Ruth seventy-four years older than the other. As the younger Ruth licked pudding from a spoon and explained why she eats her dessert before her dinner the older Ruth gave advice on the importance of good posture.

When the conversation came to a close, Aunt Wendy looked at the younger Ruth and said, "Wow, you've learned a lot today!"

Ruthie nodded.

Ruthie grinned.

Ruthie put her spoon down

and said, "I sure have!"

"I've learned you don't hurt your shoulders."

"You stand up straight and poke your boobs out."

"And...

sometimes pigs get sick."

Grilled Cheese

2010-11-25T23:24:00.000-06:00

A perfect grilled cheese sandwich is turkey nestled between two slices of melted American cheese on buttered wheat.

(At least it is right now)

Life is what you make of it and right now mine is delicious.

Waking up at Four Thirty in the Morning

2010-11-25T14:34:00.000-06:00

Someone's been waking up awful early in the morning. I don't share her affinity for the hour but it's hard to be grumpy and upset when you walk up to her bed and she's all grins and giggles.

Bella NEVER, EVER wakes up in a bad mood.

(too bad she also never, ever wakes up at nine or ten am - because that would be SWEET)

Ruth woke up with Bella this morning. They played with stuffed bears and puppy dogs for at least two hours.

I feel incredibly lucky to have two girls who get along so well together even though they were born so far apart.

Ruth's a true trooper. I know this whole sister thing wasn't quite what she thought it was going to be and I also know there for a little while she was "faking it until she made it...

Thank goodness she made it.

I'm not listening to you because my mind is some place else...

2010-11-23T19:00:00.000-06:00

It's been a while since I had a classroom of my own. This week marks two years, in fact, and while I'm in and out of rooms all day long every day it's not the same. Sometimes I miss it...

-sometimes-

Here's a blog I wrote five GLORIOUS years ago.
If I said this, would I get away with it?
probably not...

CG had a rough day today. So rough, his referral for the office was basically this list:

1. 8:35am Yelling in line, "I changed my underwear this morning! hehehe It was wet. I'm wearing dry underwear now."
2. 8:50am Comes out of restroom, sits down, suddenly yells, "MAN, THAT WAS A GOOD POOP!"
3. 9:30am Interrupted counselor so many times he was asked to leave the room.
4. 10:15am Crumples math paper, stands in corner of room with windows, hides behind corn... chants, "I can't seeeeeeee you." for thirty minutes.
5. 11:15am Burps in CW's face through out lunch. LOUD burps.
6. 11:35am When asked to line up, runs towards line, lifts shirt towards arm-pits, leans forward, sticks butt in air and CW's face, wiggles it, laughs.
7. 11:41am Tells Mrs. Lay, "I'm not listening to you because my mind is some place else."

Referral ends. He spent the rest of the day, coloring in the office. You know what that means? His body was some place else too!

Ahhhhhh, to be working the front lines again.

(I miss it)

All I Want for Christmas...

2010-11-21T11:54:00.000-06:00

If we're going to lay claim to favorite holidays, Christmas has always been mine. Growing up, it was the pleasure I saw my mom receive from giving to so many others. Then, as I grew older, it was the homemade gifts I shared with those I loved. When Ruth was born, I wanted each Christmas to be as magical and special as so many that I remember.

... Someone struggling to hang lights on the house.
...Singing Christmas songs together.
...Decorating the tree with ornaments we'd collected and made all by ourselves.
...Writing letters to Santa.
...Baking
...Christmas morning

But

    things

don't

always

turn

     out

the

way

we

   want,

plan,

or

   expect.

(Thank goodness.)

Through divorce, deployment, and the loving heart of my insightful seven year old, Christmas has evolved into a sense of togetherness we celebrate all year long. Yes, we get excited over our Palm Tree strung with lights and homemade santa hands. We sing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer until we're completely out of breath. We bake cookies for all of our friends and we even write letters to Santa Claus...

But Ruth doesn't wake up at my house on Christmas morning anymore and Ben spends most holidays deployed. Rather than dwell on the "what could have beens" or ache for things I simply can't have, I've taken a cue from my smart (somewhat silly) daughter and I've come to appreciate Mondays and Tuesdays... letters left on legal pads... listening in on advice being passed from one sister to another.

I feel blessed for this gift I've been given. I've been reminded that true magic doesn't come with the seasons or flips and turns of calendar pages.

True magic happens every single day.

The day Ruth donned her "princess rapper" persona.

The day I discovered Ben likes Typhoon water slides more than the kids.

She dressed up like this to help me entertain the baby (it worked).

Bella's post pigtail devil horns and the daddy who always bathes her... well, when he's home anyhow.

Who says you have to save those BIG forks for serving? Eating with them probably would be fun...

So, while Santa only comes once a year I celebrate every day and I wouldn't change a thing.

Love,
me

Christmas!!

2010-11-18T19:35:00.001-06:00

I tucked the baby up snug in her bed about thirty minutes ago. Ruth and I are sitting at the kitchen table behind matching (paper) plates of hot dogs, Kraft dinner, and Ore Ida fries.

Life is good.

Ruth says, "Guess what my favorite thing about Christmas is!"

Mom: Santa!
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: Christmas Songs!
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: Presents?
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: The tree.
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: Lights!
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: Baking cookies?
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: Rudolph!
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: Elves??
Ruth: Nope.
Mom: Okay, maybe you should tell me.

(drum roll please)

Ruth: My favorite thing about Christmas is the way all the people come together.

Then she looks at me with her trademark smile and takes another bite of her hot dog.

Clouds

2010-11-17T21:37:00.000-06:00

"I just have to have them."
Ruth Lay (practically 3)

...Clouds

One day, a long time ago, when Ruth was still not quite three, I walked outside and found her sitting on our old broken glider. She used her foot to gently kick the green two-seater back and forth as she looked out to the backyard, the birds...the horizon. Her face lit up as I sat down beside her and she quickly crawled onto my lap. We rocked, her head on my chest, as I sang a song made just for that moment.

Eventually the sun warmed us from our skin to our bones and, even though I kept singing, my eyes began to close. That's when she said it. That's when Ruth reached towards the sky and said, "Mom, I can't do it. I can't reach the clouds." She frowned, scrunched up her forehead, and shrugged. "They must be really far away."

I remember looking at her and wishing I could be just like her - willing to reach for those clouds even though they seemed so far away because, you know, she kept reaching for 'em...kept trying to touch them.

And now, a letter to my friend. I miss you.

Wednesday, November 17

Ruth tried to touch
the clouds today.

(I tried to touch you.)

The clouds don’t come closer
even as she stands
on the tips of her toes,
reaching
with her arms out-stretched,
fingers –dipping-
into the cerulean
atmosphere.

They’re just
-too far-
away.

You don’t come closer
even though
I whisper your name,
talk to you, tell you things
Close my eyes…
try to picture you

(here)

where
I need you,
but

you’re just
-too far-
away.

PaulaWallaism

Less Traveled By

Be Yourself, Ralph... just be yourself.

Love Poems

Part of Something Beautiful

I'd Rather Have You.

I Want (to swim away).

Living Heroes

Lonliness

Significance.

Revisiting the Past

An Open Letter

Fashion Risk

For Max

Hot Cocoa is Best When Shared

I will Respond with Love

Awesomeness...

Forget Me Not...

Breathless

Three Cents

The Trembling Stops

Too Soon

Literally...

Our Most Important Resource

If...

Missing Parts of My Heart [no more]

Rainbows

Are You My Mother?

Love Notes

Murphy is not a Law of Physics (or is it?)

My heart...

What Really Matters

Missing Parts of My Heart

I think this sums it up, nicely.

Everything

Illuminations

If I Ever Saw a Purple Cow...

Bookshelves

Today's the sort of day.

Military Spouses Handle Challenges At Home

One is a lonely number

That doesn't make it okay... but that's okay.

My Own Rewards Program

Gratitude

Because I love Him...

Resiliency?

...but I love you.

Definitions of Character

Today.

Five Things I love

Exactly.

Zen

I hate you.

Reflecting

A few weeks ago, I sat down at my computer and labored over the words I hoped would give a fantastic teacher her due moment in the sun.

A couple of weeks ago, I rushed into an impromptu Friday faculty meeting, Ricky's 7 year old birthday cupcake still fresh in my hand, and smiled with relief when I recognized my Hall Center colleagues in the audience.

My fantastic teacher was going to get her moment!

HisTiny Blue Letters

Horizons...

The Horizon

I know (and that's enough)

They Go Together

If Ruth were President...

I've been meaning to...

Counting Backwards

A Snow(y) Day.

Fisherman's Woman...

A Resolution

We've Got Things To Do

Two Peas in a Pod

Walk with me for a minute...

New Rules

Some Days are Better than Others

Strawberries

“What fun is it being cool if you can't wear a sombrero?"

Lists about Chri... Me and You (I love you).

"The Gods"

Marshmallows

Butterflies, Rocks, and Fairies

Love Poems

His
Tiny Blue Letters