Well, Christmas was wonderful and fun.

It was the first time that we traveled as a family since our overnight trip to orlando for Matthew's birthday last year. We needed it, too.

Sometimes, driving across the state line is worth it just for the wonder of returning again. No matter what, there's no place like home.

I've been a little sad that December is already over, I wish it could stay just a little bit longer.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for the new year, but I always wish the festivities hadn't gone so quickly.

I've realized, during my pondering on the matter, that celebrating is just being intentional.

I want more of that in my everyday life. I thought I had invented an original tagline if I ever opened a cupcake shop, it was, "because every day is a celebration," (but cupcake girls had the same original idea.)

Everyday is a mini celebration, worthy of good meals and laughter. The world outside can say what it will, but inside the four walls of my home is a haven. Dim lights and music at night, impromptu dance parties, baking cookies. In whatever way we chose, we can celebrate and create days our children will remember.

That's how I want my life to be.

I'm packing for family Christmas in South Carolina.

I'm excited, my kids are bouncing off the walls.

Meanwhile, my heart is heavy.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about Eric, his family, and everybody else who loved him.

My heart goes out to his regular customers; after all, he's made their coffee for six years.

That's a special bond, too.

And considering that Eric had perfected the art of retail conversation, I am confident that his customers will feel the void.

I'm just so sad, and I don't know what else to do than to write about it.

This will be the first time in six years that Eric and I won't exchange texts on Christmas, so I'm going to write him a letter instead.

Dear Eric,

Well, friend, this sure isn't getting any easier. I'm trying really hard to pull from your humor and not be so sad. Carlos and I have laughed hysterically several times, just sitting on the bed remembering you. And I keep sending Michelle "remember when Eric, ...?" texts. I can't help it, it's just the way I'm processing all this. We are all in shock, but I think you always knew you'd die young. I'd hush you whenever you'd say it, but you knew.

You were a mix of a child at heart and an old soul. You had a depth about you, I always felt like you genuinely cared about me. You were fiercely protective over us girls whenever creepers came around, or hard times fell. I'm sorry for the times I was unkind to you, that store was sometimes like a pressure cooker, and you often got the brunt of it.

Because I know you'd want to know, I got the boys each a 3DS for Christmas.

I miss you, buddy.

-me

then space began to toll.

I felt a funeral in my brain,
and mourners, to and fro,
kept treading, treading, till it seemed
that sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,
a service like a drum
kept beating, beating, till I thought
my mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
and creak across my soul
with those same boots of lead,
then space began to toll.

As all the heavens were a bell,
and being but an ear,
and I and silence some strange race,
wrecked, solitary, here.

And then a plank in reason, broke,
and I dropped down and down--
and hit a world at every plunge,
and finished knowing--then--

-Emily Dickinson

my friend...

Today I got the kind of call that nobody wants to get.

My dear friend and former co-worker, Eric, had died.

He was standing on his feet one minute, collapsed the next.

At first, I was obviously in shock.

I felt the need to go outside, I don't know why.

It just felt like it was too much energy for my little house to contain. I needed to breathe.

I called my friend, Michelle, and we talked for a while.

Michelle, Eric, and I all worked together, and we had a special bond.

I came back inside, and that's when the tears hit.

That's when I realized that I'd never see my friend again.

What followed next was a lot of sobbing, and telling Carlos my long list of reasons why I loved Eric so much. Carlos happened to know and love Eric as well, so he just listened and nodded his head while I rambled on.

I know I probably sounded like I was over explaining, that's probably because Eric and I were unlikely friends.

But what y'all have to know is that my Starbucks family kept me going during a very hard time in my life. They were a gift to me. Sure, we had our own blend of dysfunction, but what family doesn't?

Eric was a 20-something gamer, proud to be born on halloween.

He was the most hilarious, intelligent, awkward, tenderhearted guy.

He'd tell me things like "every time I watch an action hero movie, I ask myself if it's an ok movie for your kids to see." He never steered me wrong, either.

He'd give my kids video games he didn't want anymore even though he could have traded them in for money.

Once, I dropped my car keys into a trash can of rancid whipped cream and other disgusting things, and he went in after them.

He was an old fashioned southern gentlemen.

He'd never give any of us girls a hug because he was afraid he'd "accidentally grab our boobs."

He'd throw himself into a violent wall hug to avoid any inappropriate contact when he's go around the corner at the same time as anybody else.

He would occasionally get off the mountain dew and it would result in the "fun bobby" affect.

Theres a thousand funny, happy, sweet memories that I have of Eric.

I will cherish them forever.

Rest in peace, Eric.

And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being my friend.

I love you.

Christmastime is here.

I love Christmas.
I love the soft glow at night when
the tree is lit, and it's chilly enough to wear flannel pajamas.
I love baking for my kids, and listening to Christmas music.
The crafts that come home from school, delightfully exploding in glitter.
(this year, from my last remaining elementary aged child.)
When the kids get out of school for break, and the freedom in the air is palpable.
It's magic. Pure magic.

We're going out of town next week for Duke family Christmas.
I have a vision in my head of it going perfectly.
If that's a pipe dream, I don't want to know; not yet.
I just want to breathe and take it all in, but somehow it always ends up being more work than anyone could ever imagine. With meals, cleaning, entertaining kids, it ends up being mostly like the opening scene of home alone- where everyone is secretly wishing their family would just disappear.
But I love it, though.

I'm happy for the new year.
I have a few simple resolutions tucked away in my heart.
I feel like I'm on the edge of glory in many ways.
I feel like I'm getting better every year.
That's just how Christmas makes me feel.
Perhaps that's why I love it so much.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Thanksgiving menu. 2011

• oven roasted turkey from honey baked ham (I just couldn't do a real turkey this year)
• steamed green beans with almonds
• corn casserole
• sweet potato soufflé
• garlic mashed potatoes
• glazed carrots
• rolls
• apple crumb pie with vanilla ice cream.

God is great, God is good;

Let us thank him for our food.

By his hands, we are fed,

give us Lord our daily bread

Amen.

can the child in my heart rise above?

I realized today that it's the end of November.

That prolly explains why there was a line at the post office and christmas carols on the easy listening radio station.

(By the way, easy listening has suddenly become the cranberries, REM, U2, depeche mode, etc. And Classic Rock is now Pearl Jam, Lenny Kravitz, Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc.)

I've been hoping that November would go slow, so I won't have to turn 37 that soon.

THIRTY-SEVEN.

That just sounds gross.

Y'all, I feel old.

Ok, I'm being a little melodramatic, but I really am kinda bummed.

The truth is, I don't even feel like an adult.

I've never booked a vacation.

I have no money in savings.

I text more than my 14 year old daughter.

I'm a freshman in college.

I still get zits.

I dance in my car (to the easy listening station.)

My dad says I'm a late bloomer just like him; I think he might be right.

So, my question is, does age matter?

I think a wrinkly neck and smile lines makes it seems like it matters, but it doesn't.

It only matters if you're old in your heart, and I'm not.

I'm so, so young.

And it's just getting better.

Except for the wrinkles, but that's what botox is for.

because it's really sad when people die.

A very dear friend of my family died this week.

I haven't seen him in a few years, but his presence was a staple in my childhood.

They were friends like people don't seem to have anymore.

They lived down the street; they came over for dinner for no special reason.

His kids were like my own siblings.

He was the kind of guy that was quiet, but he smiled with his eyes and you instantly felt the warmth of his heart.

He was gentle and kind, and I'll never forget him.

The worse part for me, it's a reminder that parents are mortal.

We are all mortal.

A few times this week my mind has drifted away to losing a family member.

That's a extremely dark place to be, but it's inevitable.

I hate death.

I hate funerals.

As Matthew put so eloquently at age 3,

"It's sad when people get old because some people think it's really sad when people die."

You're right, Matthew.

And I'm definitely one of those people.

"To me, fair friend, you never can be old,

for as you were when first your eye I eyed,

such seems your beauty still."

Shakespeare sonnet 104

hello.

Hello from the whirlwind that is my life.

It's after seven in the evening, but it feels like 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

I love days like this.

Days when you aren't just waiting for it to be bedtime for the kids, days when dinnertime sneaks up and nobody is even hungry.

I feel so proud of myself, and I figured I might better write about it before that changes.

I just feel like I'm balancing everything ok right now, and that makes me happy.

As you might know, I'm taking online classes.

I've set aside 3 wekly allotments of time and that is when I do school.

Last semester, with the novelty and slight paranoia, I felt like it ruled my life.

I spent almost all of my home-time obsessing over essays or discussion questions.

I didn't take any cues when I was losing focus that it might be time for a break.

I would get so strung out with mental exhaustion that I wasn't even being productive.

It wasn't that I had a lot to do, I was just really slow. And obsessive. And consumed.

Now, I give myself the appropriate amount of time to complete my work and that's it.

I guess I'm learning how to work with myself, getting my grove, enforcing limits on myself.

The expression "work smarter not harder" comes to mind.

The kids are doing amazing in school. I am really proud of them.

The have gone into a school that is approximately one year above grade level in all subjects.

Math is really the only challenge for my middle schoolers, but that is getting better with some tutoring.

They really impress me when it comes to social skills and just being nice people.

Something that I think is just as important as being well educated.

Alexandria's 14th birthday.

I just realized I never posted the birthday tribute to Alexandria.

here it is...

8.23.2011

When I woke up Alexandria this morning, I resisted the urge to crawl into bed with her and tell her all about the day she was born. She used to like that when she was little; now the dominate non-morning-person gene has found her. She's a Duke, that's for sure.
My dad used to laugh historically at my morning grouchiness, and antagonize me, but that's another story. She'll embrace the glory of early mornings soon enough. For now, I just let her bask in misery because I can remember how bad it hurts to wake up when you're a teenager.

I digress.

Every birthday she's ever had has been emotional for me. The birth of your first child is epic. I'll never forget those first few hours with her. I just couldn't believe she was mine. Every time I looked at her, my heart skipped a beat. Having a labor that spanned across three days kinda messed with my head. I didn't know where I was or what day it was for about a week. I was in a bubble, sights were blurry, every part of my body hurt, but I didn't care. Somewhere in that fog came a feeling that the world was finally right. I had a baby.

Jump ahead 14 years and I have a little lady.

Birthday dinner with cousin Lauren.

This is what happened when I turned my back for 2 minutes.

She and Lauren will do about anything for a great photo;

yet, I have an irrational fear of mall security.

This one is from the summer visit to my mom & dad's house.

flailing around in the wine section?

great idea, girls!

Bieber fever at its best.

I love this picture (which is the first second of a video) because it captures her real smile. I also love the fact that she doesn't have her 12 year molars yet. It's a perfect analogy to her being 14; so grown up, yet still so incredibly young. Story behind the teeth: she got her baby teeth so late, and apparently has super sonic roots, so all but 2 of them have been pulled. The dentist pulled 8 teeth over a year ago and swore that the adult teeth would come through in a mater of weeks. On numerous occasions I've panicked because I thought maybe we somehow lost track and they were permanent teeth he pulled, can you imagine?

Anyway, next year she can get her learner's permit. Can you imagine?

news!

I'm not going to miss fall term after all!

The money showed up in time for B term.

As you might remember, I mentioned B term classes are LOOOONG!

So, I'm taking 3 online classes.

* human growth and development

* general psychology

* humanities

I chose online for the ease of doing my schoolwork at a convenient time for my schedule- like instead of sleeping at night.

I'm pretty excited about it.

Landslide.

I'm sitting in bed, eating a greek yogurt parfait that Carlos brought home from work- it's on its last leg, but still tastes amazing.

I'm listening to "landslide" by Fleetwood Mac on repeat and it's undoing me.

This week has been awful. I hate this week.

It's weird how now that I'm home I can have a bad week or be sad without feeling depressed.

Everything doesn't feel like insult on injury anymore. It's just feels like the regular kind of insult.

Have you ever really listened to the lyrics of landslide?

I think it might be one of the best songs ever written.

Oh, Mirror in the sky what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Those are some really good questions.

finding my filter.

I used to never pass up the opportunity to speak my mind. I thought what I had to say mattered and everybody needed to know. But now I find myself feeling much more intimidated.

Wait, does self control feel like intimidation? Maybe it's just awareness that some thoughts belong only in my mind.

Those thoughts seriously just came to me; that's why I love writing.

When I find myself wanting or needing to tell somebody something, I find that I will take the time to organize my thoughts, and listen to God leading me on what to say. There's several people in my life that I always think about and pray for, and occasionally I have some insight for them. I don't think you get that for a person unless you really love them. And it's not to be mixed with control; you're literally just the messenger. These relationships have taught me how to be a friend without trying to be a mother. That's a big one for me.

So, I guess what I'm finding is that speaking my mind and speaking from my heart are two different things. I may want to rip somebody a new one, but maybe If I wait until the time is right, I will have something helpful to say.

I always want my words to count for something.

And I really want to be a good friend and/or family member.

Delayed.

I am extremely disappointed about missing fall term.
Im just trying to figure out how to channel all this motivation into something productive until spring term. I don't know how to go back to being a non-student for 4 months.
I have so much riding on getting my degree.
I am no longer amused by being a penny pincher; it's not fun anymore. Ok, it was never fun, but I had some strange tolerance; knowing it wouldn't be forever.
But now, honestly, I feel like it's going to be forever.
I realize that a 4 month delay isn't the end of the word.
I'm just really disappointed.

I feel like I've been put to the test at every turn.
There seems to be two settings for getting things done;
manual or automatic.
I'm definitely stuck on manual.
Everything that was supposed to be taken care of with the click of a magic cyber button (enrollment, records, financial aid) hasn't come through on it's own.
I've lived through real life groundhog days with some guy named Rico at student services, I've been in the storage rooms at the school-board, I've waited hours for five minute appointments. I've done everything I know how to do.
I just wish someone would cut me a break.

Yesterday, I thinking about the scripture "let patience have her perfect work."
I know asking for patience is a huge mistake because it comes through trials. I'm kinda past that stage already.
Knowing that patience already exists in me, I just have to let her do her thing. I just have to surrender.

I'm not there yet. I'm still angry and annoyed.
I'll try to post something uplifting when/if I ever get there.

the bittersweetness of motherhood.

Carlos was folding laundry when he held up a tiny, yellow, faded Curious George shirt. When I saw it, I said something like "oh sweet Lord in heaven." It just brought back so many memories.

I remember Alexandria falling in love with this shirt at Target when she was about 2, and although I've never been a big fan of character t-shirts, I've given in to my children on too many occasions to count. (Like when Matthew wore a shirt depicting every member of the nintendo family on his first day of kindergarten. He just loved it so much.) The boys wore it as a p.j. shirt; it practically touched the ground when they walked, and they wore it until it stopped covering their belly button.

I sat looking at George and felt the loneliness of not having a little one anymore. My heart just kind of hurt for a minute. It's so sad when your kids get all big and grown, but it's happy too.

Little birds gotta fly away.

But the Curious George shirt will be in my sock drawer until I die.

the good news isn't-

My Financial aid hasn't come through for fall A- term.

I have until 8p.m. tomorrow before my classes drop.

I'm very disappointed because I had the PERFECT schedule.

Almost too good, I should have known.

It might still come thru for B or C term.

Shorter term = longer classes.

3 or 4 hour classes are brutal if not impossible when you have kids and a job.

ugh.

Fixing Bonnie.

this goes out to Chris.

If you know me, you know that back to school week is the bane of my existence.

I cannot begin to tell you how expensive and time consuming it is to get all the pencils, pens, rulers, calculators, binders, dividers, markers, crayons, water colors, index cards, hand sanitizer, scissors, sharpies, lunch boxes, backpacks, shoes, socks, clothes, etc.

Just when you think you've gotten everything, there's always one more thing.

And there's always something you can't find.

The first few days seem like we're on a wing and a prayer; even more than my everyday life that also feels like we're on a wing and prayer.

The kids had new schools the last 2 years and that's always rough.

It's just a stressful week; like shopping-at-Walmart-on-Christmas-eve-times-a-hundred.

Abraham had a major growth spurt over the summer,

so very little of what I bought at the used uniform sale still fit.

We went shopping today to fix the problem.

There's exactly one store in town that sells for our school.

Back in the corner, the pants were arranged on floor-to-ceiling shelves with some cryptic labeling system. There were also rows of shelves across the length of the room; perfect for the salespeople to drape themselves over and have personal conversations.

After a few minutes of trying to figure out what sizes were where, I noticed that the two salesgirls had finished their talk. I smiled at one girl as a cue that I needed help and I asked her where the 12's were.

Still draped over the shelf, and with the speed and enthusiasm of a baby sloth, she raised her arm and pointed at the wall of shelves. I was set aback, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I leaned into the general area of her point. She said, "see that sign that says 10? Look up."

Yeah, not my favorite, but I'm still kinda going along at this point.

I picked them up and they looked really small. I asked her if they had other cuts because I had seen on the website that they had several available.

This is when things started to really go downhill because she rolled her eyes at me.

I remember looking at her name tag, and seeing BONNIE. I didn't really process the words that came out of her mouth after that.

She said something about pleats, and kinda formed a question while still exuding overall annoyance.

Miss Bonnie knew she was in trouble when she saw me smile and tilt my head to answer whatever halfhearted question she had asked me.

Aiya tells me it's creepy when I smile even though I'm mad.

I'm sure Bonnie agrees.

I said, "you know what, if you don't want to help us I'll find someone else who will."

I was so shocked, but I didn't have the life force in me to even argue.

She started walking towards me and sputtering, "um...no...I."

I simply said "no" and kept looking through the pants.

She was right beside me when she suddenly became helpful and offered another question,

I cut her off by saying, "nope, don't worry about it."

I mean, I shut her down.

I felt her attitude deflating like a punctured balloon spirals to the ground.

I wasn't even mad anymore. My job was done.

I heard her sigh, and I walked away to the dressing rooms;

my family of 4 following closely behind.

I had to walk back over and I kid you not, Bonnie was being the employee of the month.

I'm glad the other patrons had the benefit of the new and awakened Bonnie.

It was my contribution for the day.

I'm seriously the nicest customer a clerk could ask for, but I will not tolerate rudeness.

full circle.

Another school year is underway.

This time of year gave me butterflies for all of my childhood,

and again once Alexandria started Pre-K in 2002.

Today was different.

Today was another homecoming.

This was Alexandria and Abraham's school until we moved.

The halls are literally memory lane.

Time is frozen.

I expect to turn the corner and see them be 4 and 7 again.

They were so sweet and tiny.

I left so much in the dust when we moved.

Not just people and places.

Not just things.

But dreams and hopes.

And a big part of my soul.

For years, I couldn't even think about it without having an emotional reaction.

I think that's called post traumatic stress.

But that's all over now.

I love this school.

It has always been what I've dreamed for my kids, and it was really hard to leave it behind.

I mourned the beloved teachers who comforted when morning goodbyes were too much to bear.

The ones who validated my suspicions that my children are brilliant.

The ones that put on mothers' day breakfasts that were fit for a queen.

The ones who I trusted to make my kids feel just as special as my early teachers made me feel.

There is love in the air at this school, and you don't find that just anywhere.

As I walked over to pick up Matthew, 3 words danced around in my mind.

I might have even been whispering them to myself, but I don't even care.

"Dream come true, dream come true, dream come true," is all I could think or hear.

I was walking in a dream; only it was real.

I am overcome with gratitude.

A.

Just to follow up on the last post, I got an A in my English Composition class!

I drove all the way to campus yesterday with the kids to pick up my test score, but it wasn't ready. I at least got a 38 out of 54. yay!

Alexandria noticed immediately that the campus looked like a mall.

It had been a mall in the 80's and 90's; full of ritzy, overpriced stores that quickly went out of business.

It's like the graveyard of broken retail dreams turned kinda cool campus with awesome Mac computers in the library and its very own subway restaurant.

Speaking of Subway, they have really good cookies.

Anyway, fall term starts in 25 days. I'm taking 3 classes this time.

one down.

Well, I did it. I finished my first college course.

It was a million times easier than I thought it would be, but it was an English class and I do speak English. Nevertheless, it's a milestone.

I got a perfect score on all 5 essays, so I got at least a C as a total grade.

I definitely missed a few on the final exam, but I don't know how many yet.

I can proof and punctuate sentences 'til the cows come home, but memorizing grammar rules is the challenge.

And it always seems like what I study the most is the smallest portion of the test.

I really hate that.

There is something about my reasoning process that is slightly screwed up.

I'm too indecisive and it gets my head all cloudy.

Anyway, I might get an A.

I'm going to be sad if I get a B.

I still have a month of the night class that reminds me of traffic school.

It's a class where we discuss things like studying instead of partying and other forms of effective decision making.

please y'all, I'm 36.

There are some pretty colorful characters in there.

I hate it pretty bad.

A pack of skittles from the vending machine is the only thing that keeps me from jumping out the window!

j/k, that's hyperbole, the fancy word for exaggerating, and not among the forms of effective communication. chapter 7; page 136.

copy cat.

I'm copying a friend by doing a favorite things post. I'm just feeling very blah today and I need to lighten things up. I have no reason to be in a bad mood; I think I just miss free time. I also feel overwhelmed by the annual back-to-school spending marathon/emotional fallout of my kids being another year closer to adulthood. ANYWAY, I feel like making a top 10 list is a good idea.

• Burt's bees lip balm. I'd be lost without it. enough said.
• tea tree oil. mixed with water and a few drops of non-mineral baby oil, it becomes the perfect antiseptic solution for bug bites, scrapes, skin irritations, etc. I also occasionally simmer tea tree oil in water to cleanse the air.
• iced coffee! Oh my gosh. I love iced coffee in the summertime. I brew double strength coffee, (pour over method) to the bottom line of my reusable starbucks cup. Add two teaspoons of turbinado, a splash of half & half, and ice to the top. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Cafe Do Ponto, a brazilian coffee, is hands down the best.
• my starbucks reusable cup. It is a part of me. I can't let go.
• mini york peppermint patties. heaven on earth. the best way to eat one is in a million tiny bites.
• eye lash curler. I am 36 and I just bought my first eye lash curler. I have used one before, but not in years. All I can say is WOW! It makes a really big difference! I actually have nice lashes. <3
• MacBook. My dad bought me a MacBook when I started college and I love it! It's my first Mac and I'm a fan. I had no idea how much time I'd be spending on my computer doing homework, and It's just made my life so much easier. It's great to read the occasional blog and watch movies.
• Twitter. It's the perfect little social outlet for me. I've detoxed from facebook and feel a thousand times better about my life. I could elaborate, but I'll spare you the details.
• college. I've needed to do it for a long time. I'm 100% sure it was the right decision for me. I love the challenge and having something to really put my heart into.
• Havaianas. I'm a flip-flop girl and that will probably never change. They're my favorite because they're so sturdy; you don't feel like you're walking on a piece of foam. The designs are usually adorable- leave it to the Brazilians to come up with everything.

For them.

I'm not going to lie, having 3 kids on summer break, working 30 hours and taking 10 hours of classes a week isn't always easy. It's been somewhat easier than I thought it would be, but the worse part is feeling like my kids are having a boring summer break.

Today, I took them to work with me from 9-11:30, so they wouldn't be home alone all morning.

I rushed to get lunch and drop them off before my 12:30 class.

I gave Alexandria the house keys and watched them walk towards the house, fast food lunch in tow.

I felt so guilty in that moment.

Something I really don't like about our house is that the front door is not visible from the street. I couldn't see if they had gotten in, and I hated myself for not just taking the time to walk them to the door. I hate feeling like I'm putting other things before my kids; It just goes against everything in me.

I called Abraham, and he informed me that they got in, locked the door behind them, and let the dog out back. I told him that I was just checking and to be good. Then, in typical Abraham fashion he said something that made me laugh. He said: "ok, you be good, too, and stay in school." What a funny guy. A funny, sweet, intuitive guy.

So I went to class, rushed, overwhelmed, mommy guilt in tow.

I waited almost 30 minutes for the professor to get there.

sigh.

Our warm up was to write about something that we'd rather be doing than be in class.

I wrote about how I'd rather be out enjoying summer with my kids, but how they seem to know that I'm doing this for them.

for future family vacations.

for car insurance when they're 16.

for senior cap and gowns.

for college.

for wedding cakes.

For them.

graded

I got my first graded paper back today.

I knew it was coming; I had been stewing over it all weekend.

The 3 hour class was almost over when he finally passed them out.

The professor is super methodical and almost ceremonial; which I happen to love.

He spent about 20 minutes reviewing the codes we might find on our graded paper.

Things such as: a circle for an error inside of a sentence, and upside down cross for a run-on, frag for a fragmented sentence. Wrdy was code for wordy, and awk was code for awkward; I think that I am probably both of those things most of the time.

He reminded us of the 20 point grading system where only a 19 & 20 are an A.

My palms were sweating as I envisioned my paper doused with marks and red ink.

I kept telling myself that this is just my first essay, it's a learning experience.

Originally, I thought I had done well, but my confidence was waining, and for the first time his over-explaining was really getting on my nerves. I wanted my paper!

Finally he began to pass them out; mine was probably the 4th one. I looked over the first page; it had no codes. The second page had no codes. The third page, again, no codes. At this point, I was very confused. Finally, on the last page I saw this:

I still cant quite believe it.

I could feel the dread of the guy next to me who got a D; I've been there a time or two. The professor walked around and gave people feedback. I felt as if the room was spinning. I've never gotten a perfect score on something as subjective as an essay. It was surreal.

I worked really, really hard on this paper. It was a very personal topic. I read it so many times that I absolutely hated it. I turned it in because I had to. I got it back and now it makes me proud.

It feels really nice to get a good grade.

the end.

a new title.

I'm thinking about retiring this blog and starting a new one. This one just feels obsolete for where my life is now. I used to be consumed with having (wiggly) small children, and working retail. Now, I have a teenager, a pre-teen, and one who’s still kind of little (but will no longer hold my hand in public.) I'm also a student. God only knows if I’ll even have time to blog; I may post my essays if I feel brave enough.

Coming up with a title is challenging, I don't really have another catchy title. I know I’ll always be earth momma, but what does earth momma do when her babies grow up? Well, I’m going to help other people have babies! After my second week of school, once I demystified the “monster” of higher education, I increased the projection of my future. I’m pretty sure I’ll be a midwife one day. Grandma Stella always told me that my great-grandmother, Delilah, was a lay-midwife. I sure wish I had more information about her.

I’m working towards having a career basically for the sake of necessity, but a part of me will always be that girl hanging cloth diapers on the line, while breastfeeding a baby in a sling. A part of me really only wants to do that for the rest of my life. Alas, I had my glory days, I played, I napped, I nursed, and I pushed the stroller for miles on end. I did the baby thing, and it’s just not something that can last forever- unless you happen to be Mrs. Duggar.

It’s a new day- and I feel up for it.

baby ham.

I don't even have the wherewithal to find/scan/post a baby picture of Abraham, but trust me, from the day he was born he was an absolute explosion of cuteness.

Abraham- age 4

I could have made a million dollars off those dimples.

Abraham- age 11

And he's got a cleft chin, like Bono.

(If my brother was here, he'd point out that both traits are considered birth defects )

Today, he finished Elementary school.

6 years have vanished like a vapor.

Most of his teachers were outstanding and I'm very thankful for that.

He's made A or A/B honor roll, and A conduct for his entire life.

Now he's on to middle school.

I'm so proud, and a little sad that he's growing up so fast.

my double portion.

I'm sitting here, as a storm rolls in, trying to relax before I head off to class for the first time.
I have a pit in my stomach, and a lump in my throat.
A pit, because I'm nervous.
A lump, because I'm overcome with emotion from the events of the day.

At 1:44 a.m., I got the call that I've been waiting for.

Kelly was in labor, baby Ephraim was coming.
Even at that early hour, the timing felt so perfect.

No conflicts with school, or work, or the kids. Just perfect timing.

I don't think its an accident that I attended a birth on the very day I start school (with the intent to become a L&D nurse). I haven't doulaed a birth in 4 years.

I felt that today was a vision of my future- a prize to keep my eyes on.

Baby Ephraim wasn't even born yet and he was already fulfilling his name- a double portion, or blessing.

First, he's a blessing just because he's awesome. and squishy. and perfect.

Second, he's a blessing because he came into the world bringing vision and promise.

Something happened in my heart today at the birth, and it's just one of those things that can only be described as divine. Not only did I get to attend a beautiful birth, which happens to be my favorite thing, I got an impartation.

Ephraim and me, we've got something real special.

And when we had a little moment to talk, it was like he was saying

"Hi, Aunt Holly, today is a big day for both of us."

And he made me feel like I can definitely do it.

And he made me realize that I'm really going to love it.

if theres one thing this team has:

it's paper napkins, and slushies.

While I was planning the baby shower, one of the things I had mentioned to my friend, Rachel, is that I wished I had a "paper napkin drawer." It's just one of those last minute details that's a burden to make an extra trip for. Being the precious one that she is, Rachel started me a supply- and it's kind of grown from there. It's funny how the little things can make you feel better about your life.
I usually get the kids a slush after school. Between the 3 kids, I probably spend $15- $20 a week on drinks. Plus, the added annoyance of a car full of straw wrappers and empty cups.

We are HUGE sonic happy hour fans, HOWEVER, I found out that Kangaroo has a deal that if you buy a reusable cup, you get free refills all summer. I can not pass up a bargain like that, I just can't! Sorry, Sonic.

And the backslidden environmentalist that I am feels better, too.

You would not even believe how many times Abraham has thanked me for his cup. It's always the middle child who makes you feel like a good mom- for very little effort.

God bless all the middle children of the world.

The napkins and cups are reminding me of how amazing it feels to be prepared. If I take this approach to more areas of my life, imagine how happy I'll be.

being born.

Matthew had to write an autobiography at school.

He told me "I wrote that I was born at home, in a baby pool, and my friend said that was impossible, that all babies have to be born at the hospital. I told him that you probably took me to the hospital after I was born."

So I explained to Matthew that his birth was assisted by a very well qualified midwife, and because everything went perfectly, we didn't go to the hospital. He listened attentively as I told him that something like 80% of the world's births are out-of-hopital births, but some babies absolutely need to be born at the hospital. Home birth is a very safe choice when given the appropriate medical care, and the midwife is sure that momma and baby are healthy.

So, then he says "oh, so I was born at home because you didn't want me to get any shots? And I was born in a baby pool because you just really wanted us to have a baby pool?"

Yes, Matthew. That is exactly why I had you at home.

But seriously, while we are on the subject...my home birth was one of the best experiences of my life. All of my children's births were life changing, but having Matthew without intervention was the best mothering decision I've ever made.

It was my mountaintop moment with God.

Trust birth, y'all.

a year in the making.

On this weekend of last year, we were packing up our earthly belongings and moving home.

I'll never forget what it feels like to have 100% of your life on wheels, making a voyage.

Homesteaders, gypsies, pioneers- just a few words that come to mind.

Driving through the night was like a bad acid trip. I was following Carlos, who was driving the truck, and towing the car. I just make myself focus on the word 'BUDGET' plastered across the back of our moving truck. I couldn't have navigated the trip. I pretended that there was a rope binding my van to the truck...I just had to keep straight. 1am, 2am, 4am, 7am, 9am- straight, straight, straight. Mentally, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

I'm still so happy to be home.

It's not for any particular reason.

Home is its own reason, and home is its own reward.

for more thoughts on home: click here

labor of love.

more baking!

I hosted a baby shower for my original sister-friend, Kelly.

She and I grew up together, and she is very special to me.

I made 3 kinds of mini cupcakes...

Red Velvet with Cream Cheese Frosting.

Chocolate fudge with peanut butter frosting.

Vanilla cake with buttercream frosting.

We (Rachel, Aiya, and I) also made hand dyed coffee filter pom-poms.

They weren't very photogenic hanging from the ceiling, but they looked great in person. I love them, and I can't quite say goodbye just yet, so I threw them on top of my china cabinet.

I also took the Christmas ribbon off my coffee filter wreath, and added some pom-poms to that. I'm not sure why I love paper decorations so much.

I also made a banner, but I didn't get a picture of it hanging...

almost there.

The first day of classes is getting closer and closer!

I would like the federal government for inventing a little something called the pell grant- without it, none of this would be possible.

I would like to thank all the nice people who have helped me along the way. It's been a little intense, retrieving buried records from 1993. I might as well have been digging up dinosaur bones- that might have been easier. It was all to prove that there was once was a girl named Holly Duke, and she did in fact graduate from high school. And now we can proceed.

At the same time as my classes begin, my boys will be getting out of school for the summer.

I can't even wrap my head around the fact that Abraham will be done with his elementary years.

I mean seriously, what the heck.

My eyes water when I think back to those first days of the school year. Those were really hard days. Everyone always says that kids are resilient, but that's kind of hard to prove. The truth is, kids internalize things, and we don't always know what they are going through. I'm so proud of them- they made excellent grades, and conducted themselves like little gentlemen. Alexandria attended a home school co-op, and did extremely well.

For next year, all 3 have been accepted to one of the best private schools in the city. It's such a blessing that it worked out for us... they know a lot of kids that go there, and I work right next door. I dreamed this for my kids, and now it's happening...and they deserve it.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life. - Proverbs 13:12

archived. 4/1/10.

(I actually posted this 2nd to last, but It's hard to change the publish time on old posts to line up correctly. hard for me, at least.)

Every so often, maybe twice a year, a breeze blows through that I could swear came right off the ocean.
It makes me happy, and it makes my heart sink at the same time.


I'm not going to lie.
I want to go home.

last one, I swear. 3/28/10

This concludes our journey throught the un-published archives, for now at least.

So as I mentioned before, spring is here!
Which unfortunately for me brings sinus issues.
Yesterday, every time I moved my eyes- I felt like my head might explode. Not fun.

I hate taking sinus medicine, but last night I couldn't handle it anymore...and I took a pill.
Somehow, I do my best thinking after a headache- right after the pain goes away.
I get this warmth in my chest that makes me feel wistful. endorphins i guess. (well fake ones maybe, I think most drugs block natural endorphins)
As I was attempting to fall asleep, all these thoughts were swirling.
I'm pretty sure I went over everything that happened this week.
I thought of my kids, and the funny things they say.
On Friday, Abraham had told me that "All the girls love to touch his hair, because it's so soft."
That same night, Matt was watching a dvd, and he announced that he was "skipping the previews, because they were wasting his time."
Alexandria is full of great things to say. She's got insight, and a tendency to notice people's quirks. I've got to balance my desire to discuss people's "80's hair" with her, and teach her not to be mean.
Carlos and I had the best belly laugh ever right before bed. The boys have learned to sleep through my loudness- Alexandria always comes running.
It was a pretty interesting scene. Alexandria just wanted to know what had happened, I was trying to tell her, but I couldn't stop laughing.
My sides hurt, and I was crying.
All I could really get across is that It involved Carlos, and a yoga ball.

Oh Gosh-I'm laughing again.

one more... (1/29/10)

the way things have been going make me feel like i'm on a hamster wheel.
like bill murray in groundhog day eat your heart out.
but every now and then I get a feeling that things are changing.
every so often i feel something fresh.
have you ever smelled ocean air?
god- i miss ocean air.
it can eat the paint right off your car and break your heart at the same time.
it comes from the great wide open-
places you could never get to...
and it blows right through you.
in my old life, i used to go to the ocean by myself...and just stare at that tiny line where the sky and sea touch.
you realize that in this great big world, you're just a speck.
i've never felt so small in all my life then when the waves were crashing on my feet.

More archives.

I think this one is from this time last year. I'm so glad I don't work retail management anymore. I remember being constantly overwhelmed. I'm not anymore. Praise!
(And I'm sure the drama had to do with work.)

So, the last few days, I've been reveling in the quiet. After a few weeks of the earth spinning way to fast, I'm just enjoying life being at a slower pace. The kids are out if school for spring break, I have a light week at work- It's just nice. Home-cooked meals and some 90's U2, seem to be just what the doctor ordered. I'm a totally different person when I get to do only what I want to do... aren't we all?

It's a funny thing, being in my mid-thirties, everything changes. Especially in the way of dealing with drama. I'm taking names if you know what I mean. I'm not playing around anymore. I'm okay if people don't like what I have to say, maybe they shouldn't have asked me what I thought in the first place.

Oprah warned me this would happen.

archives.

I ran across this in my large list of unpublished posts.
I thought it was kinda sweet...

I've been working a ton, and just having the general feeling of running behind on everything.
I really hate that feeling.
I never painted this picture in my mind when I dreamed of my life.
I saw it more slow, and glowy.

I always wonder what days my kids will remember. I have random spotty memories of my childhood.
I remember my mom calling me in for dinner, on those hot Georgia nights. I was always outside, picking pecans and whatnot.
Always getting bitten by fire ants.
As I sat down at the table (the same one that's in my kitchen right now) my mom always pulled my hair back, her hands felt so cold on my neck- that was the best feeling in the world.
She didn't even know.

Those are the kind of things I remember.

Until we get there.

Ive been thinking a lot about how difficult it is to raise a melancholy child.
Being a melancholy person myself, I understand why he feels the way he does, but I also see what a drag it is to be so negative.

Although I'm thankful that I come from community of people who would take a bullet before they'd make a negative confession, it always seemed to me that the extremes of positivity undermines reality. In my adult life I've implemented more of a "keeping it real" approach- although I do believe in the power of words.
I'm teaching my son to use restraint in verbalizing negativity but I don't expect him to be some kind of name.it.and.claim.it robot.
I'm constantly teaching him to look for the good,
the happy,
the beautiful.

Maybe one day I can write a best selling book about parenting a melancholy child- I'm going to call it "Raising Eeyore." ©
I guess I'll probably have to pay royalties to Christopher Robin.

Good parenting teaches the child to balance what nature gave them with the laws of nature. Good parenting also has to be custom fit to each child's learning style, love language, and personality type. If parents fall short, their kids feel it for the rest of their lives.

No big deal.

I'm still sorting stuff out and I'm 36. I'm still learning why I react to things the way I do, and what sparks certain feelings. We all need healing in one way or another. Until we get there, there's a lot of insult on injury- and people don't even know. Some issues are a matter of personality and some are circumstance. A lot of it is our own expectations being to high for ourselves and for others.

We will figure it out one day- just in time to share priceless tidbits with our grandchildren. We'll be the quiet champions that have all the answers- but know it best to let them learn for themselves.

Until we get there...

Sigh.

13th grade.

So, I had to swing by campus today to drop off some papers. Can I just say that it's unnerving to walk across of courtyard of students, half my age, and wonder of they can tell that I'm just so nervous about this.

In high school we referred to this place as "the 13th grade" because after graduation all the mediocre students went there and continued to distract each other from learning. We made fun of it knowing that we had no chance to be accepted anywhere else. We didn't care- we were just lighthearted, goofy kids who thought it wasn't cool to be smart.
-Oh ignorance of youth, how you haunt me.

During the summer after my senior year, I called the admissions office to get some information. The man (who sounded an awful lot like Ben Stein) and I had a conversation that went something like this:

Me: I need to know how to apply. I just graduated from highschool.
The man: Did you take the SAT's
Me: No.
The man: Well, you need to come take the college placement test and see if you will take college classes or remedial classes. How were your grades?
Me: Kinda bad. I don't know if I'll get in.
The man: Do you have a pulse?
Me: Yes
The man: You're in. This is community college.

But even with the man's depreciated opinion of community college- I still felt inadequate. My older brother had just gone to an out of state university and flunked out- among other things. I saw the toll it took on my parents. I was determined not to do that to them. I just wanted to work and earn money, and so I did. I got my own apartment and was married 3 years later. Which brings me to today, 18 years later.

Just driving on campus gave me anxiety. I still feel like that distracted, not quite smart enough girl. I try to hush all the self doubt and listen to the next stage of my life calling me. With each insecure step across the campus, I try to envision myself on my best day as nurse. I'm thankful that my determination is finally stronger than my fear of failure.

It's on, 13th grade.
Bring it.

i bake.

Lately, I have an obsession with baking.
It's so therapeutic for me.
It's usually how I usher in the weekend.
I just forget everything for a while,
and try to create something yummy.
I love having something homemade to offer my children after school.
I love that they prefer my baking to anything store bought.

Baking makes me feel like the mom I always wanted to be.

Recovery.

I've just been writing, and erasing, and writing, these thoughts that are swirling through my sleepy head tonight.
I've felt so emotionally blocked lately. I need a really good cry, and it just won't come- which is quite the contrast to my being able to fill buckets of tears on demand for the complete calendar year of 2010.
January 2010 was when the "stuff" started hitting the fan.
That's when my baby brother's life started falling apart. That's also when I became aware that your heart can break so hard, you feel like you're dying. I've never hurt like that before.

I'll never again be the person I was before last year.
My life, my family, my heart is forever changed.
I'm still feeling some emotional side effects, I routinely go into shutdown mode, and I feel kinda rejected when people don't even notice that I need them. I just have to reach deep for my self-sufficientcy. I've never really been able to pull off being needy, and I'm okay with that.

Sometimes, when I'm inside the space of my family's new dynamic, and I really stop to think about it- it's just too much. Way too much to handle.
But then, like magic, I feel the grace.
The grace of enduring love.
I feel the courage to let go of all the nagging injustices.
I hear the breaths of relief, and see sore eyes light up when life feels normal again.

I'm so lucky to see, and feel these little everyday miracles.
The mystery of grace, the beauty of redemption... It's ours for the taking.
And we have our dignity intact.

I feel so proud of us.

starting.

I want to start blogging again, however with most everything else in life, I don’t really know where to start.
I constantly tell myself that it's really not hard to start. I just need to start.
That simple philosophy has gotten me almost completely enrolled for summer term at the local community college. (woot!)
It hasn't quite been the medicine to help me study math, in hopes of earning a better score on the college placement test. (ugh.)
I think I need REAL medicine for that.

It would really be awesome to not take a remedial math course, especially considering that I'm 36. I had to wait til summer to get in-state tuition, and meanwhile I was supposed to be studying.
I really tried to- but my thoughts always end up wandering off.

Studying has the same effect on me as sitting at a red light.
What starts off as an honest attempt to watch the light- ends up being a daydream interrupted by honking.
I know that once I can get into the actual nursing classes I will be fine.
I can focus on stuff that interests me.
So, I just have to figure out a way to math my new favorite thing.

math is my new favoite thing.

and many more...

It was Abraham's birthday last Thursday. We made plans for a sleepover with the cousins, I made cupcakes, got balloons, and wrapped gifts.

The night was full of laughter, wii games, and plenty of sugar. Excitement was in the air from 4 boys who absolutely love to be together. It's always kind of amazed me how much kids love their cousins even if they don't see each other very often. It's the love of family that's just inherently there.

It was well into the evening when I realized it was his first birthday back home, with family I just stood there for a minute and reflected. Reflected on the birthdays when he seem lonely. Reflected on how much he appreciates every little thing. Reflected on answered prayers. I just stood there and soaked it all up- I listened to beauty of the moment.

My boy is 11. I don't even remember my life without him. From the night he was born, actually, even in the womb, he's been a calming force in my life...it's probably a good thing, because my other two are very demanding.

I really love you, Abraham...and I'm glad you had a happy birthday.

Why?

I find myself asking Alexandria that question a lot. I have been since she was old enough to talk. She used to answer in her slightly hyper and breathy voice- "just betuz" or "betuz i thought about it, and I just besided (decided) to do it."

The reasons I ask are always different...could be that she drew all over her hands with a sharpie, could be that she's wearing a masquerade mask to the grocery store, could be that she painted my desk with whiteout. (she's done all these things in the last 6 months.) I'm no sure why I ask why, but I always do. The stuff she does puzzles me on the deepest levels. It's been this way forever, she just does random things all.the.time. It drives me crazy, yet I kinda like it. She keeps me guessing.

Maybe one day she'll give me an answer...although I kinda already know. It's because she's Alexandria and/or because she thought about it, and she just decided to do it.