Hello, friends! Well, today begins the 2 day countdown to the end of my summer courses...wahoo! The next 48 hours will be full of homework, eating junk at 3 o'clock in the morning, and a definite lack of sleep. So, needless to say, I won't be posting for the rest of the week.
Starting Friday, once I've recovered, I'll be working on the Pinterest Challenge...you can read more about that here. Basically, some lovely lady bloggers (Emily Henderson, Sherry from YHL, among others) have issued a challenge for themselves, as well as others to take an inspiration from Pinterest and make it a reality in your homes in one week. It is taking an extreme amount of restraint for me to not just get on Pinterest right now to browse for ideas. But, alas, I will hold out until Friday.
Then it's on.
I'm looking forward to classes being over for obvious reasons. I'm also just looking forward to having one less thing on my proverbial plate. My August will be full of crocheting, reading, and studying for my GRE. Sounds relaxing..
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Dear Abbey
Only you know how deep my love is for you. Afterall, you are the only one who has heard my heart beat from the inside.- Unknown
A dog!
I have this memory. It's fuzzy and incomplete and maybe, possibly, not real. My momma and I are on a trip to Shreveport for one of my all too familiar pediatry check-ups. This time, we took the 15 passenger van with a group of other children traveling to the Shriner's Hospital. Maybe we stopped somewhere when my mom and I had this conversation, maybe it was in the van. There is a picture within this memory that appears more obvious to me. I can see wooden blinds, fake trees in the corner of an office. The setting of my mom's story, of her memory, is more clear than my own memory of hearing the story. My mom told me a story of her graduate school days, of how she out-smarted the system, I like to think. She had been given clear instructions to remain neutral and unbiased when administering a test. Children are receptive of their performance and it's difficult when a child gets something "wrong" not to say something like , "Almost...", and the same is true of when a child does well on a portion to not say, "Good!". I picture my mom sitting on the floor around a coffee table, giving an IQ test to a young girl. My mom recalled that when she was giving the tests, she figured out that she could just repeat the answer the child had given. For example, when the child said, "a dog", my mom would say, "a dog!". I'm not sure why this story was told or what we were talking about previously. At the time I remember thinking how clever my mom was for figuring out a better way and that she must be the smartest woman ever. It was clear that her professors were impressed, or at least approving. They've never seen anyone in their school as smart as her, I thought.
I still think of that story on a regular basis. Now, as I am starting my journey into the academic world of graduate school, this story takes on a new meaning to me. Perhaps my mom wasn't telling me this story to impart some deeper lesson, maybe she was just telling me that story because someday, my professors would give me the task of administering a test with which I must remain unbiased. Now, I know how to do that. Now, I can impress my professors and maybe my daughter will think I am the smartest woman ever.
When I think of my childhood, I never think of missing my mom all the time, or feeling a mom-shaped void. I think of my streamer tables, and the canopy she made me for my bed, and the time that I got something like 4 Barbies all in one big box for Christmas. I think of how the sight of her purple Grand-Am pulling into the driveway, and the sound of the garage door opening made my day and gave me such giddy excitement-even though I may have not acted like it. And now, when I think of my young adulthood, I think of a mom who has been there, who has the experience and has made the mistakes. I think of someone who will be there to encourage and support me and will be the only one in my little world that really understands what I'm going through. So that when I call her on my drive back from my practicum, crying because I miss my daughter, she will say something like, "I know, baby...". And that will be all I need to hear.
I still think of that story on a regular basis. Now, as I am starting my journey into the academic world of graduate school, this story takes on a new meaning to me. Perhaps my mom wasn't telling me this story to impart some deeper lesson, maybe she was just telling me that story because someday, my professors would give me the task of administering a test with which I must remain unbiased. Now, I know how to do that. Now, I can impress my professors and maybe my daughter will think I am the smartest woman ever.
When I think of my childhood, I never think of missing my mom all the time, or feeling a mom-shaped void. I think of my streamer tables, and the canopy she made me for my bed, and the time that I got something like 4 Barbies all in one big box for Christmas. I think of how the sight of her purple Grand-Am pulling into the driveway, and the sound of the garage door opening made my day and gave me such giddy excitement-even though I may have not acted like it. And now, when I think of my young adulthood, I think of a mom who has been there, who has the experience and has made the mistakes. I think of someone who will be there to encourage and support me and will be the only one in my little world that really understands what I'm going through. So that when I call her on my drive back from my practicum, crying because I miss my daughter, she will say something like, "I know, baby...". And that will be all I need to hear.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Should have known the best was yet to come
Lying on the fold out floor mat at 1:30 in the morning with a 2 year old who is learning to be a "big girl" (and subsequently wet her bed) can be one of my favorite parts of the day. We watched Toy Story 3, we sang lullabies, and when I finally started to really fade I resorted to prefixing everything I said with the word "Princess" to try to make my requests seem somehow special and not so much like the "b" word (bedtime).
"Do you want to lie down on the princess bed?"
"Come close your pretty princess eyes and have some beautiful princess dreams!"
It didn't work. But it was sure cute watching her bat her eyes and dramatically sigh and fake sleep.
The Sandman finally won and my girl fell slowly to sleep. I would normally have gone to sleep right as she did-desperate to get in enough shut eye-but that night was different. I couldn't help but to lay next to her, her little arm wrapped around my wrist, and rest in the fact that right now, she belongs to me. I am still her "Mommy Best Sriend".
She will be mine for a short time, and then she will belong to the world.
Rock and roll, my little girl. Rock and roll in this big, big world.
"Do you want to lie down on the princess bed?"
"Come close your pretty princess eyes and have some beautiful princess dreams!"
It didn't work. But it was sure cute watching her bat her eyes and dramatically sigh and fake sleep.
The Sandman finally won and my girl fell slowly to sleep. I would normally have gone to sleep right as she did-desperate to get in enough shut eye-but that night was different. I couldn't help but to lay next to her, her little arm wrapped around my wrist, and rest in the fact that right now, she belongs to me. I am still her "Mommy Best Sriend".
She will be mine for a short time, and then she will belong to the world.
Rock and roll, my little girl. Rock and roll in this big, big world.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
You can do anything, but not everything.
I have one certainity in my life: I love my husband, my daughter, and my extended families. I am a darn good Momma and I am learning to be a better wife. I am confident that I belong working in the mental health field, I am hopeful that I will do that as a Clinical Psychologist.
I also would like to write a novel, have a beautiful house that looks like it was designed by a pro, crochet and read for pleasure. I want to wake up in the morning in time to meditate, drink some coffee, and get dressed so that my outside matches my inside. I want to go to bed without dishes in the sink or laundry on the floor and preferably at the same time as my husband. I want to spend my days playing games and doing crafts and running errands with my daughter. I want to garden and cook every meal. I want to always have cookies in a jar on the table. I want to blog everyday and hone my writing skills. I want to exercise everyday.
See the problem?
I know it's all about priorities. When I have to choose, my husband and my daughter will always come first. Second place is a little more tricky. On my best days I know that school and my career goal should be second, but then what about the house? Housework and errands are part of having a healthy marriage and taking care of your children. The list goes on...
I have tried to make schedules and lists so that I can fit everything in each day. The thing is, that stretches me pretty thin and I end up doing a lot of things "okay", and not one thing "extraordinarily". That is really not how I want to live.
This season in my life has been spent trying to prioritize, trying to juggle. In the end, I recognize that a lot of the things I want to do are leisurely or hobbies. So those will obviously have to be at the bottom of the list. I could take a hint from the three little pigs.
Work before play.
It's a good thing some of my work feels like play...sometimes.
I also would like to write a novel, have a beautiful house that looks like it was designed by a pro, crochet and read for pleasure. I want to wake up in the morning in time to meditate, drink some coffee, and get dressed so that my outside matches my inside. I want to go to bed without dishes in the sink or laundry on the floor and preferably at the same time as my husband. I want to spend my days playing games and doing crafts and running errands with my daughter. I want to garden and cook every meal. I want to always have cookies in a jar on the table. I want to blog everyday and hone my writing skills. I want to exercise everyday.
See the problem?
I know it's all about priorities. When I have to choose, my husband and my daughter will always come first. Second place is a little more tricky. On my best days I know that school and my career goal should be second, but then what about the house? Housework and errands are part of having a healthy marriage and taking care of your children. The list goes on...
I have tried to make schedules and lists so that I can fit everything in each day. The thing is, that stretches me pretty thin and I end up doing a lot of things "okay", and not one thing "extraordinarily". That is really not how I want to live.
This season in my life has been spent trying to prioritize, trying to juggle. In the end, I recognize that a lot of the things I want to do are leisurely or hobbies. So those will obviously have to be at the bottom of the list. I could take a hint from the three little pigs.
Work before play.
It's a good thing some of my work feels like play...sometimes.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
What Id Is?
Life seems to often vacillate between certainty, indecisiveness, panic, and then calm certainty again...for me, anyway. I read a quote a few weeks back that said, "First it's impossible, then it's hard, then it's done." Isn't that how things go? One week you're freaking out about a deadline or an "impossible" project and the next week you've turned it in and everything is okay. Why do we feel the need to have the freak out in between?
I'm in a sort-of freak out period in my life. There is so much that is left unknown. I guess you could say I'm in the "waiting room". My insurance is up to date, I'm working on filling out paper work (lots of paper work), and soon the nurse will call my name and the doctor will give his diagnosis. Healthy or ill? Fit or injured? Accepted or rejected?
This is going to be a long process: 6 months in the "waiting room" and then another few months for the Doc to make his diagnosis.
This will be a place for me to share my experiences as an undergraduate student going through the process of application and *hopefully* acceptance into a graduate program. I hope to be candid in sharing my struggles and frustrations, witty, and encouraging to those who may be going through the same process.
Life has uprooted me and planted me in a new garden that sometimes gets weeds, but I have a Gardener who takes care to give me plenty of sunshine and lots of water. He pulls the weeds and takes great care to pinch off my bulbs that have died or no longer grow, leaving only the bulbs that will bloom to their fullest extent. It hurts sometimes, but I am more beautiful for it.
Title: Thank you to my friend, surrogate Uncle, and forever-neighbor, Todd.
I'm in a sort-of freak out period in my life. There is so much that is left unknown. I guess you could say I'm in the "waiting room". My insurance is up to date, I'm working on filling out paper work (lots of paper work), and soon the nurse will call my name and the doctor will give his diagnosis. Healthy or ill? Fit or injured? Accepted or rejected?
This is going to be a long process: 6 months in the "waiting room" and then another few months for the Doc to make his diagnosis.
This will be a place for me to share my experiences as an undergraduate student going through the process of application and *hopefully* acceptance into a graduate program. I hope to be candid in sharing my struggles and frustrations, witty, and encouraging to those who may be going through the same process.
Life has uprooted me and planted me in a new garden that sometimes gets weeds, but I have a Gardener who takes care to give me plenty of sunshine and lots of water. He pulls the weeds and takes great care to pinch off my bulbs that have died or no longer grow, leaving only the bulbs that will bloom to their fullest extent. It hurts sometimes, but I am more beautiful for it.
Title: Thank you to my friend, surrogate Uncle, and forever-neighbor, Todd.
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