We're moving. To Morris. In about two weeks.
There, I've said it; that makes it official, doesn't it? We've talked about moving for years now, and I always seem to think about moving like 30-somethings think about retirement. It's wistful and dreamy, with that little cloudy fog around the edge of my daydream, the sun shines on a lake somewhere, and my friends are walking their golden retriever while they laugh their way onto my porch. In my head, it's idealized, comfortable and lovely. However, in reality, it kinda sucks.
I know that people move all the time. I know that we are not different from others who have moved their families across town, across state lines or across the country. I know that there is nothing easy about boxing up the life you know and packing it up for the unexpected. I know that emotions are looming large as the closets become emptier and our comfort zone is stripped of its charm. I know that people move all the time, I know, I know, I know...
To be fair, I AM in on this whole "moving thing"...Kev's certainly not whisking me away against my will, so understand that I'm excited and anticipating what is to come. However, I'm in the middle of what my friend, Jen, would call "The Sads." In fact, I sat down to type this with a light-hearted, airy tone about being eager for our next adventure and looking forward to whatever comes our way. Then I started to type and my unfiltered heart poured onto this page.
Quite frankly, I'm overwhelmed, in a really good way. Namely, I'm shocked that this is really going to happen. In June, shortly after Kevin mentioned the potential new place, Nora and I ran into our friends Katie and Gerard. While chatting, I mentioned that we were working on finally making the move before the summer was over. I remember an internal eye-roll and telling myself that it would be an absolute miracle if we got our lives together enough to make that happen before the end of the summer...we've been talking about it for years...and years...and years. Yet, here we are, tip-toeing into August with boxes packed, children registered and fingers crossed. Absolutely overwhelmed...apparently we're growing in our ability to get our lives together -- it's about damn time.
There will certainly be a few trade-offs once this move is official. Namely, the length of my commute, and I will say it here so everyone can know that I understand that the commute will not be fun...especially because I-80 is my main route...especially in the winter. It seems that everyone wants to weigh in on the absolutely awful nature of my daily commute. Yes, it will suck. Thank you for reminding me (remember, I'm a bit unfiltered right now).
My heart is heaviest for my little girl right now, as she is torn between the loss of the little world she's built in Manhattan and the excitement over a new bedroom and new friends at a new school. She has been having daily crying spells, which she calls "meltdowns" once she's recovered from them...it is remarkable how quickly they come upon her and I'm also impressed by how quickly she recovers. She's tough, resilient and a really awesome kid...no matter where she lives that's not going to change. CJ, on the other hand, just doesn't get it. "Ugh, I wish we moved already!" When I explain that we need time to pack our things for the new house, he replies with legitimate exasperation and tells me that we can just use the clothes, toys and soap that are already at the new house. Pure innocence, and I love it.
So, yes. The Bogards are moving, and despite much of what I wrote above, we are all pretty excited about it. We're excited about Morris, for a lot of reasons. We have a church there, and I am looking forward to calling it "Our Church." We love the river, and can easily walk to it from our new home. The kids already have favorite restaurants: Faith = Bellacino's, Connor = Corleone's. Daddy will be working close to home, and we're all very happy about that. We already know two sets of neighbors, and they're lovely people, who I'm sure will lend us a cup of sugar if we need one. Faith is already looking forward to her first date, "I think it's going to be at the Sandlot" {Heaven help us}. And we're going to have a lovely front porch...and it's like the porch in my retirement daydreams -- begging for a porch swing, morning coffee, friendly laughter and easy conversations with those we love.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Saturday, July 6, 2013
The Readiness Is All.
One of the most memorable college "lessons" I ever learned was taught to me by Dr. Kelly Norman Ellis in my Women's Voices course at Chicago State University. I don't remember much about the titles we read, nor do I remember the papers I wrote. I do, however, remember that the class was held at 3:30 p.m., following tennis practice...which meant that I was perpetually exhausted. I often wish I could have a re-do in that class because I knew that Dr. Ellis was an amazing woman, poet, teacher...vibrant, exciting, passionate and honest.
This "lesson" came on the day that we were having our wrap-up discussion about Jane Eyre, a novel that I had barely pretended to read. In fact, I barely even watched the movie I rented. In high school, I read the books...for the most part...or at least three-quarters of each novel assigned...okay, okay, maybe half. Yet, I always managed to find a way to work through the discussions and essays and get A's in most of my English classes. In college, I read -- a lot -- mostly because I had learned that faking my way through was a lot harder than actually reading the darn book. Yet, for some reason, I decided to not even fake my way through Jane Eyre. Didn't even try. Still, to this day, I don't know much about it...except there might be a lady in the attic? Or maybe that was Emily Dickinson? Either way, I digress.
I can still imagine the wave of self-induced shame that crept up on me that day in Dr. Ellis' class. I was tired, the room hot. A handful of people had read it; most had not. After a few too many empty stares and shallow answers, my sense of guilt intensified and the room grew hotter still. The professor let the tension build and finally allowed the responsible students run with the discussion. I dutifully took notes and promised myself that I might think about reading Jane Eyre someday. It was in that moment that Dr. Ellis shared her Jane Eyre reading experience with us...I don't remember the details (though I wish I did), but I do remember that she had tried reading it several times before it stuck. She explained that sometimes readers are just not ready for the texts that are placed in front of them. It doesn't mean they are exempt from the expectations of the course or the teacher, it just means that they are not truly ready to experience the text for what it's worth. That idea made me take pause because at the time, I was taking an algebra class that, for the first time in my life, made sense to me; the class covered the same concepts I had struggled with the year before, but I was now getting B's without hours of frustration. Could it be possible that I was just finally ready to learn math? And someday I'd be ready for Jane Eyre?
It's an idea that is ever-present in my classroom and my day-to-day lesson planning, and I think of Dr. Ellis and that moment often. My students might not be ready for this today, but they may be tomorrow (or next quarter, semester, year). That doesn't mean they are exempt from the expectations of the course or the teacher, it just means they're not ready YET.
So what? Why all this talk about reading readiness in the middle of the summer without any students to speak of? Well, because I'm reading Othello, and I'm ready for it. Have I read it before? Yes, three times. Do I know what it's about? Yes, deception, lust, ambition...what most of Shakespeare is centered around. But this time it's so, so different. I decided I to reread Othello when I was surrounded by uber-pretentious teachers at my June AP Summer Institute...mostly because some of them said it wasn't worth teaching because it was "too accessible to the student." Huh, too accessible, you say? I thought that was the point...especially with Shakespeare. No?
So, as I drove home on the last day of the Institute, I bought myself a new copy of Othello with oodles of text notes and several lofty essays about how to access the language of the play. Then, when I knew the kids were sleeping soundly, I grabbed a pen and a highlighter and I read it "from scratch" with the goal of simply knowing and understanding the text in a clearer, more precise way. And, the best part is that I have learned that I am ready for it now...and I love that. I'm transfixed by Shakespeare's words, and since I'm reading it for pleasure and understanding, I can take my time and dive into the footnotes, ask questions, use a dictionary and carefully annotate the text. This time the characters are more developed and interesting to me. Iago is more vile than ever; Desdemona's defiance seems to be made of equal parts passion and head-strong disobedience, and I am noticing Othello's vulnerability at every turn. I've only just finished Act I; perhaps I'll finish soon, or maybe it will be next quarter...semester...year. However, so far, my marginalia is lovely and my understanding is ten times more perceptive than it was the last time I despised Iago; and that is exciting...because I now know that I am ready.
So, as I drove home on the last day of the Institute, I bought myself a new copy of Othello with oodles of text notes and several lofty essays about how to access the language of the play. Then, when I knew the kids were sleeping soundly, I grabbed a pen and a highlighter and I read it "from scratch" with the goal of simply knowing and understanding the text in a clearer, more precise way. And, the best part is that I have learned that I am ready for it now...and I love that. I'm transfixed by Shakespeare's words, and since I'm reading it for pleasure and understanding, I can take my time and dive into the footnotes, ask questions, use a dictionary and carefully annotate the text. This time the characters are more developed and interesting to me. Iago is more vile than ever; Desdemona's defiance seems to be made of equal parts passion and head-strong disobedience, and I am noticing Othello's vulnerability at every turn. I've only just finished Act I; perhaps I'll finish soon, or maybe it will be next quarter...semester...year. However, so far, my marginalia is lovely and my understanding is ten times more perceptive than it was the last time I despised Iago; and that is exciting...because I now know that I am ready.Saturday, June 29, 2013
June 2013...Gone in the Blink of an Eye.
This month was an absolute whirlwind...from beginning to end we were on the move, and there seems to be so much that needs to be shared. I have been thinking about writing all month long, but I seriously haven't been able to make time for it -- how can a teacher, who hasn't "worked" since May, not have time to write? Well, we've been busy around here, and I'm about to throw organization aside and catalog June 2013 in a very stream-of-consciousness kind of way.
It started with a strong desire to not fall into my normal summer-mom pattern...we hangout all lazy and low key, love it for a few days and then go crazy because we have lost every semblance of routine. We like to have a rhythm to our day and the kiddos always want an answer to,"What are we going to do today?" So, we made this chart, inspired by Pinterest, of course...I couldn't really call it a 'bucket list' because Faith would need to know why it's called a bucket list, then we'd be forced into that awkward conversation, so we settled on 'Summer Fun 2013!' On day one we checked off 'Library Days' after our first trip of the summer.
I knew that there wouldn't be too many items crossed off this list in June because I have spent an awful lot of my summer in training sessions and classrooms. My first training session was held for three days in the first week of June, and I absolutely loved the premise of it. It was a fantastic reminder that sometimes we need to remember to stick with the basics and ask "Why am I doing what I'm doing?" It was a valuable chance for me to reflect on my year and get excited for next year. After that training I spent a week teaching a booster program for our freshmen AP students, and that was a blast. Fresh, excited faces who are super-ready to make a difference at Bremen. It was fantastic.
During those two weeks we managed to sneak a quick lunch-time trip to visit Kevin for lunch at 'Brown-bag Friday' in Morris, where we watched Sheriff Callahan win the Hot Dog Eating Contest for the third (?) year in a row -- it was a sight to see! CJ also wrapped up his first season of soccer and was pretty excited to score a few goals and receive his first medal, "just like 'Wreck it Ralph.'"
By the middle of the month I knew that things would slow down for a bit, but first I needed to cross The Color Run off of my list. Way back on a cold, dreary February day, my sister-in-law, Lindsay, posted that she had just signed up for the run and for some reason I thought it was a fantastic idea...as June 16th approached I realized it was Father's Day and that put a damper on my anticipation for the run. I knew that Kevin would soon be working his crazy summer days and I felt even worse knowing that I would be 'running' out on him early on Father's day morning. However, it gave the kiddos a chance to make and serve him breakfast in bed, and I am pretty sure that part made Faithy pretty happy. Anyhow, The Color Run was super-fantastic and I am fairly sure I will do it again and again, as long as it doesn't interfere with Father's Day in the future. Nora and I had a conversation about living in the moment rather than pausing to take a photo of every.single.thing. we see throughout our days. It told her she would have no photos of her children while they grow up, she shrugged and said that would be okay...then I think I told her I would take them for her. :) As I said, it was an amazing morning (wife/mom-guilt aside), and I know that even though I will never, ever be a runner, I was super-fun to live in that moment and run/walk that 5K!
The following week was a big one: a trip to the realtor, an eye doctor appointment for Faithy, and prep for and execution of the garage sale/lemonade stand. I have finally come to the realization that we are really going to move. I know that I have packed boxes, I know that we are putting those boxes into a storage unit, I know I have various Realtor apps that I browse regularly, and I know that my daughter tells nearly everyone we meet that we are moving to Morris...but I've just finally realized that this is actually going to happen sooner, rather than later. So, I stopped into several Realtors' offices...that day sort of paralleled 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'...one Realtor was too slimy, one was too uninterested, and, of course, one was 'just right.' I didn't necessarily learn anything I didn't know: the housing market still sucks, but I did finally admit that this is going to happen, and just in case I needed further pressure, the gigantic Re/Max hot air balloon literally floated through my neighborhood. If I was looking for a sign, I got one.
On a completely different front, Faith went to see Dr. Khammar after her longest gap between appointments, and we had a little news to celebrate. When she first met Dr. Khammar her vision was 20/200 -- she was legally blind, and following her 3 surgeries, she could see at 20/100. Now, after 2 years of patching and glasses he told us that she is "finally reading at a level that will allow her to pass a driving test." Believe me, it makes me shudder to think about that little girl behind the wheel, but I was way too excited to hear that news because he said that getting her to 20/40 was one of his major vision-goals for her, and she's made it! Still a lot of work to go, but we're so proud of her.
It started with a strong desire to not fall into my normal summer-mom pattern...we hangout all lazy and low key, love it for a few days and then go crazy because we have lost every semblance of routine. We like to have a rhythm to our day and the kiddos always want an answer to,"What are we going to do today?" So, we made this chart, inspired by Pinterest, of course...I couldn't really call it a 'bucket list' because Faith would need to know why it's called a bucket list, then we'd be forced into that awkward conversation, so we settled on 'Summer Fun 2013!' On day one we checked off 'Library Days' after our first trip of the summer.
During those two weeks we managed to sneak a quick lunch-time trip to visit Kevin for lunch at 'Brown-bag Friday' in Morris, where we watched Sheriff Callahan win the Hot Dog Eating Contest for the third (?) year in a row -- it was a sight to see! CJ also wrapped up his first season of soccer and was pretty excited to score a few goals and receive his first medal, "just like 'Wreck it Ralph.'" 
By the middle of the month I knew that things would slow down for a bit, but first I needed to cross The Color Run off of my list. Way back on a cold, dreary February day, my sister-in-law, Lindsay, posted that she had just signed up for the run and for some reason I thought it was a fantastic idea...as June 16th approached I realized it was Father's Day and that put a damper on my anticipation for the run. I knew that Kevin would soon be working his crazy summer days and I felt even worse knowing that I would be 'running' out on him early on Father's day morning. However, it gave the kiddos a chance to make and serve him breakfast in bed, and I am pretty sure that part made Faithy pretty happy. Anyhow, The Color Run was super-fantastic and I am fairly sure I will do it again and again, as long as it doesn't interfere with Father's Day in the future. Nora and I had a conversation about living in the moment rather than pausing to take a photo of every.single.thing. we see throughout our days. It told her she would have no photos of her children while they grow up, she shrugged and said that would be okay...then I think I told her I would take them for her. :) As I said, it was an amazing morning (wife/mom-guilt aside), and I know that even though I will never, ever be a runner, I was super-fun to live in that moment and run/walk that 5K!
The following week was a big one: a trip to the realtor, an eye doctor appointment for Faithy, and prep for and execution of the garage sale/lemonade stand. I have finally come to the realization that we are really going to move. I know that I have packed boxes, I know that we are putting those boxes into a storage unit, I know I have various Realtor apps that I browse regularly, and I know that my daughter tells nearly everyone we meet that we are moving to Morris...but I've just finally realized that this is actually going to happen sooner, rather than later. So, I stopped into several Realtors' offices...that day sort of paralleled 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'...one Realtor was too slimy, one was too uninterested, and, of course, one was 'just right.' I didn't necessarily learn anything I didn't know: the housing market still sucks, but I did finally admit that this is going to happen, and just in case I needed further pressure, the gigantic Re/Max hot air balloon literally floated through my neighborhood. If I was looking for a sign, I got one.
On a completely different front, Faith went to see Dr. Khammar after her longest gap between appointments, and we had a little news to celebrate. When she first met Dr. Khammar her vision was 20/200 -- she was legally blind, and following her 3 surgeries, she could see at 20/100. Now, after 2 years of patching and glasses he told us that she is "finally reading at a level that will allow her to pass a driving test." Believe me, it makes me shudder to think about that little girl behind the wheel, but I was way too excited to hear that news because he said that getting her to 20/40 was one of his major vision-goals for her, and she's made it! Still a lot of work to go, but we're so proud of her.
And, speaking of being proud of this kid, we were able to cross 'Have a Lemonade Stand' off the 'Summer Fun' list. As many of you know, Faith, with some help from Connor, ran a pretty fantastic stand which benefited the Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation. When she was first planning this out she told me she needed to donate at least half of her sales to charity...we talked about several options and she selected ALSF because she wanted to help a cause connected to children's cancer. She was professional, polite and purposeful when sharing the mission of the foundation, and adorable in the moments when people would completely misunderstand her concept and leave by calling her Alex. She set her goal at $50, but through the awesome nature of our generous facebook friends she raised $468, and she is blown away by it. This has been a wonderful experience for all of us, and we never anticipated that she would surpass her goal in such an impressive way!
We wrapped up the Lemonade Stand weekend with a super-brief birthday celebration for Kevin which required us to sing 'Happy Birthday' and eat cake all before 11am because June is a crazy month for Kev, and CJ is still asking when we are going to have Daddy's real party...not gonna happen, buddy.
However, we certainly celebrated along with Chicago and the Blackhawks throughout the month of June. I'd definitely call myself a new hockey fan since the 2010 season, and I am pretty sure I'm hooked for good after the wild ride this year. It has been fantastic to experience this season with the kiddos, and I laugh every time I think of my hockey talks with Faith. She often debated the merit of Corey Crawford, and she swore that the Kings would get the best of the Hawks...even while we watched the rally she shook her head and said, "I cannot believe we beat the Kings. They were the champs, Mom. We beat the champs." I love the collective 'we.' She's a part of this. And of course there's Connor...his favorite player: Oduya. Why? "Because his name is funny." I remember the Bull's championship runs like it was yesterday, and I am so glad to have had the chance to experience this season with Faith and Connor because I think at least one of them is hooked for good.
 |
| This was taken after fireworks woke her on the night the Hawks won the Stanley Cup! |
The month ended with a somewhat lackluster AP conference in Plainfield...it seemed a bit too pretentious and there were a few too many references to NPR, The New Yorker and excessively lofty pieces of literature. Not that I have anything against those things, but enough is enough...the Hawks won the Stanley Cup and there were people in the room who were shocked to hear the news. C'mon people...
Yep, so there it is...June 2013 in a nutshell. I am so looking forward to a slow and easy July full of bike rides, farmers markets, and lazy days, and so far there is almost nothing on the calendar, so Bring It, July!
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Love never fails.
I don't often write about political or social concerns because that's not what I'm about, and because it makes my insides feel weird. I have my opinions, I live my life rooted in love and I write because I am a mom who hopes to paint an accurate and telling portrait of who I am and what I believe...when it's all over, I know that I write this for my children. I write without research and without a deep political or theological understanding; I write it from my heart.
We live in a crazy-scary world where people are sometimes tragically blinded by their beliefs and agendas. Children die in Chicago at alarming rates and an eerie code of silence protects the murderers. CNN says there is an "ominous new threat from North Korea" because they have "cut channels with the South." Victoria's Secret has launched a line aimed at "Tweens" which features a pair of undies with the phrase "Feeling Lucky?" across the bottom. All of this because people are executing their agendas and clinging to their beliefs.
It's all enough to make me want to cry, but today the world is going crazy because gay men and women who are in serious, committed relationships want to get married to their partners. Hmm...people who love one another want to get married? They want to be treated equally under the law? Just the law, not the church? What's the problem here? Isn't this an issue of civil rights? Human rights?
I'm pretty sure the Bible says that we are created in God's image, and that you should "love your neighbor like yourself." And that dusty old Declaration of Independence? Well, it asserts that "all men are created equal" and are entitled to rights such as "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." Aren't those concepts beautiful? We have been created equally in the image of God, we should love one another and we have the right to be happy.
Well...Unless you are Gay. If you are gay, you probably made a choice to be that way because God would not have done that on purpose. If you are gay, I will treat you like my neighbor until you tell me you are gay, and then I will condemn your "way of life" and deny you your "pursuit of happiness." Doesn't that sound absolutely absurd? That is enough to make me want to cry. I am saddened by the lack of love for others and a lack of respect for their rights. We live in a country that is built on freedom and justice, yet we will vehemently fight against a gay couple's right to marry?
I know that people hold deeply rooted religious and secular beliefs about why we need to oppose marriage equality, and please understand that I respect that we have differing opinions. In fact, I think that is what makes America amazing. However, I become angered and fearful when those opinions become mired in bigotry and intolerance. It hurts my heart and boggles my mind to hear people say that gay marriage will threaten the sanctity of marriage. Will someone please explain how my marriage will become less sacred because gay couples, who love each other, will be given the same rights as me?
I must admit that I am a bit surprised by my own passion for the marriage equality debate; I don't get "fired up" that easily, and yet there is such obvious discrimination and injustice when it comes to the right to marry that I can't help but become passionate. My hit-in-the-gut moment of awareness came last fall when Faith and I were discussing the Presidential candidates and their beliefs. I did my best to present the grown-up issues in a child-friendly unbiased way, but I just could not find a way to tell Faith that some people in this world are overtly against gay couples' right to marry. How do you tell a child that in our civilized, educated country, people are not treated fairly? And how do you explain that they are treated unfairly simply because they LOVE differently? I had no words to explain that to my child in that moment, and I hope that soon we will live in a place where that discrimination is no longer allowed.
Today my hope for America, and for my children is that God's love will prevail because "love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails." 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a
__________________________________________________
Here are two beautifully written blogs concerning gay rights and our approach to discussing these strongly held beliefs...as for me, you will find me in the basement.
In the Basement
The Basement Manifesto
I know that people hold deeply rooted religious and secular beliefs about why we need to oppose marriage equality, and please understand that I respect that we have differing opinions. In fact, I think that is what makes America amazing. However, I become angered and fearful when those opinions become mired in bigotry and intolerance. It hurts my heart and boggles my mind to hear people say that gay marriage will threaten the sanctity of marriage. Will someone please explain how my marriage will become less sacred because gay couples, who love each other, will be given the same rights as me?
I must admit that I am a bit surprised by my own passion for the marriage equality debate; I don't get "fired up" that easily, and yet there is such obvious discrimination and injustice when it comes to the right to marry that I can't help but become passionate. My hit-in-the-gut moment of awareness came last fall when Faith and I were discussing the Presidential candidates and their beliefs. I did my best to present the grown-up issues in a child-friendly unbiased way, but I just could not find a way to tell Faith that some people in this world are overtly against gay couples' right to marry. How do you tell a child that in our civilized, educated country, people are not treated fairly? And how do you explain that they are treated unfairly simply because they LOVE differently? I had no words to explain that to my child in that moment, and I hope that soon we will live in a place where that discrimination is no longer allowed.
Today my hope for America, and for my children is that God's love will prevail because "love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails." 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a
__________________________________________________
Here are two beautifully written blogs concerning gay rights and our approach to discussing these strongly held beliefs...as for me, you will find me in the basement.
In the Basement
The Basement Manifesto
Friday, February 15, 2013
Because I love you.
As a general rule, Kevin and I have made a point to avoid Valentine's Day celebrations. It's not that we don't love one another, nor is it that we're too lazy/busy/careless; instead, I think it's because there is something forced and unnatural about the overdone and commercial nature of what this "holiday" has become. Sure, it is wonderful to know you're loved, yet completely unnecessary for facebook to ask me if I'd like to send Kevin Starbucks or Lindt Chocolates via their site. Thanks, but no thanks, Mr. Zuckerberg; I'll brew him a cup at home and serve it with a Hershey's kiss.
My love for Valentine's Day has been rekindled a bit since the kids are getting old enough to enjoy it and participate in the fun. On the night before Valentine's Day, Faithy tucked a handmade Valentine under my pillow, along with strict directions to wait until morning to read it...so, of course, I devoured it right before bed. It was a beautiful letter, in which she thanked us for "being there for her" and giving the "best hugs and kisses." I giggled and my eyes welled up a bit; I'm not quite sure how I have "stood up for her," but I adore that phrase from her mouth. Then in the morning, Connor stumbled into our room and gave us both a sleepy, "I love you." I'm not sure if it was connected to Valentine's Day, but it made my heart swell either way. These little loves have given me a renewed reason to remind my family of my love for them.
Though I'm not a sucker for the romanticized version of Valentine's day, I am excited to build my own set of family traditions in my home. Faithy thinks I'm a complete weirdo because my "Valentine's Day Rule" is that we can only eat heart-shaped items or foods that are pink or red. In anticipation of the milk served with dinner, she tried to stump me..."Hey Mom, what about the milk. Bet that won't be pink!" I shrugged my shoulders and smiled because she didn't know about the strawberry "Flavored Milk Straws" I had picked up from Target. Our dinner was heart-shaped pasta, served on heart-shaped plates, and we dined by candle light with Nora and Matt (two people who I always love to see at my table). I served our pasta with Italian bread...our only deviation from the day's food rules, and thankfully, Faith granted me a reprieve on the crime of serving the white bread -- I thought of sprinkling pink sanding sugar on top, but I knew that would be too far.
I picked up a pair of Claddagh earrings for Faith and a Shamrock bracelet for CJ, but knowing that the way to their hearts is through their sweet tooth, I also picked up a few caramel apples for dessert (note: neither heart-shaped, nor pink/red). For me the best moment of the day was when Faith noticed the paper bags which held their apples, labeled with their names in black Sharpie. She looked at them, asked if it really was a gift to them, and then, with an emotion-filled voice, asked,
"Mom, why are you so good to us?"
"Because I love you."
Plain and simple...because I love you.
So, yes, I'll admit it; in a sense I have bought into the commercial concept of love, but not through overpriced diners and waxy chocolates in a heart-shaped box. Instead, I hope that I am building a (silly, fun) tradition that will bring those I love to my table, a tradition which is built upon family, friendship, loyalty and love. And when I'm asked why, I hope that my response is forever rooted in love.
My love for Valentine's Day has been rekindled a bit since the kids are getting old enough to enjoy it and participate in the fun. On the night before Valentine's Day, Faithy tucked a handmade Valentine under my pillow, along with strict directions to wait until morning to read it...so, of course, I devoured it right before bed. It was a beautiful letter, in which she thanked us for "being there for her" and giving the "best hugs and kisses." I giggled and my eyes welled up a bit; I'm not quite sure how I have "stood up for her," but I adore that phrase from her mouth. Then in the morning, Connor stumbled into our room and gave us both a sleepy, "I love you." I'm not sure if it was connected to Valentine's Day, but it made my heart swell either way. These little loves have given me a renewed reason to remind my family of my love for them.
Though I'm not a sucker for the romanticized version of Valentine's day, I am excited to build my own set of family traditions in my home. Faithy thinks I'm a complete weirdo because my "Valentine's Day Rule" is that we can only eat heart-shaped items or foods that are pink or red. In anticipation of the milk served with dinner, she tried to stump me..."Hey Mom, what about the milk. Bet that won't be pink!" I shrugged my shoulders and smiled because she didn't know about the strawberry "Flavored Milk Straws" I had picked up from Target. Our dinner was heart-shaped pasta, served on heart-shaped plates, and we dined by candle light with Nora and Matt (two people who I always love to see at my table). I served our pasta with Italian bread...our only deviation from the day's food rules, and thankfully, Faith granted me a reprieve on the crime of serving the white bread -- I thought of sprinkling pink sanding sugar on top, but I knew that would be too far.
I picked up a pair of Claddagh earrings for Faith and a Shamrock bracelet for CJ, but knowing that the way to their hearts is through their sweet tooth, I also picked up a few caramel apples for dessert (note: neither heart-shaped, nor pink/red). For me the best moment of the day was when Faith noticed the paper bags which held their apples, labeled with their names in black Sharpie. She looked at them, asked if it really was a gift to them, and then, with an emotion-filled voice, asked,
"Mom, why are you so good to us?"
"Because I love you."
Plain and simple...because I love you.
So, yes, I'll admit it; in a sense I have bought into the commercial concept of love, but not through overpriced diners and waxy chocolates in a heart-shaped box. Instead, I hope that I am building a (silly, fun) tradition that will bring those I love to my table, a tradition which is built upon family, friendship, loyalty and love. And when I'm asked why, I hope that my response is forever rooted in love.
Friday, February 8, 2013
On Exercise and Excuses
“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the
bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can't achieve it.”
~Jordan Belfort
I know I'm not alone in my disdain for exercise, and I know that I should do it more, that it is good for me, that it gets easier with time, that it's more fun with friends, that it's best if you're doing something you like, blah, blah, blah.
In the course of my WW journey, more often than not, it is my lack of exercise, and not my indulgent eating choices that prevent me from achieving the success I hope for on the scale. I like vegetables, I love fruit, and I enjoy the challenge of preparing healthy meals. Do I falter? You bet your Wheat Thins I do! However, I know that one butter-laden meal or even a weekend of coulda-been-better choices is not what's going to make or break me in the long term.
It's exercise that will be my undoing. It's not that I hate it, but I can't even pretend that it's fun or that I look forward to wiping sweat from my brow after a "satisfying workout." I used to know that satisfaction, and I vaguely remember what it feels like. For me it would come after impossible tennis workouts in college. I still reflect on those miles logged and the hours on the court and wonder how the hell I did it...but I'm still proud I did. I planned my meals, packed my lunches, prepared for workouts and then -- wait for it -- I actually completed them. I ran, I lifted, I played. I was far from thin, but I was healthy and active.
Obviously, that is not the case today. Fast forward 10 years and my life as an independent student-athlete has been replaced by life as wife-mom-teacher, and I couldn't be happier with where life has taken me. However, I know that I can't exactly call myself healthy these days. I love to cook, and we're not talking about grilled fish and steamed broccoli; after all, I'm married to a burger and twice-baked potato kinda guy. My day is busy and I am often "so tired" that I barely want to clear dinner and make tomorrow's lunches, so obviously there is not time for a workout, right? I know that these are excuses: Kevin doesn't like vegetables, I am busy (tired, hungry, bored, facebooking), I don't have time...I could go on. A few years ago, I joined Curves for a while, but they had limited hours, so I faithfully paid out my contract after I stopped going. This past summer, I tried and died with the Couch to 5K approach to running; making it past the 20 minute run only to let my 5K goal fade away, and, strangely, I actually enjoyed running, but this was a hot summer, so, you know...I quit. I love to walk outside, but it's 27 degrees outside right now, so I should stay on the couch under this blanket. But I am at a point where I know these are creatively crafted excuses, and now I need to decide what I'm going to do about it. It's easy enough to lighten up a dish for dinner or to pack a healthy lunch. But what about exercise? I know it's what I need, and I am beginning to feel a substantial dose of mom-guilt over it. I owe it to myself and my family to be a healthier me...easy to say, much harder to do.
I know I'm not alone in my disdain for exercise, and I know that I should do it more, that it is good for me, that it gets easier with time, that it's more fun with friends, that it's best if you're doing something you like, blah, blah, blah.
In the course of my WW journey, more often than not, it is my lack of exercise, and not my indulgent eating choices that prevent me from achieving the success I hope for on the scale. I like vegetables, I love fruit, and I enjoy the challenge of preparing healthy meals. Do I falter? You bet your Wheat Thins I do! However, I know that one butter-laden meal or even a weekend of coulda-been-better choices is not what's going to make or break me in the long term.
It's exercise that will be my undoing. It's not that I hate it, but I can't even pretend that it's fun or that I look forward to wiping sweat from my brow after a "satisfying workout." I used to know that satisfaction, and I vaguely remember what it feels like. For me it would come after impossible tennis workouts in college. I still reflect on those miles logged and the hours on the court and wonder how the hell I did it...but I'm still proud I did. I planned my meals, packed my lunches, prepared for workouts and then -- wait for it -- I actually completed them. I ran, I lifted, I played. I was far from thin, but I was healthy and active.
Obviously, that is not the case today. Fast forward 10 years and my life as an independent student-athlete has been replaced by life as wife-mom-teacher, and I couldn't be happier with where life has taken me. However, I know that I can't exactly call myself healthy these days. I love to cook, and we're not talking about grilled fish and steamed broccoli; after all, I'm married to a burger and twice-baked potato kinda guy. My day is busy and I am often "so tired" that I barely want to clear dinner and make tomorrow's lunches, so obviously there is not time for a workout, right? I know that these are excuses: Kevin doesn't like vegetables, I am busy (tired, hungry, bored, facebooking), I don't have time...I could go on. A few years ago, I joined Curves for a while, but they had limited hours, so I faithfully paid out my contract after I stopped going. This past summer, I tried and died with the Couch to 5K approach to running; making it past the 20 minute run only to let my 5K goal fade away, and, strangely, I actually enjoyed running, but this was a hot summer, so, you know...I quit. I love to walk outside, but it's 27 degrees outside right now, so I should stay on the couch under this blanket. But I am at a point where I know these are creatively crafted excuses, and now I need to decide what I'm going to do about it. It's easy enough to lighten up a dish for dinner or to pack a healthy lunch. But what about exercise? I know it's what I need, and I am beginning to feel a substantial dose of mom-guilt over it. I owe it to myself and my family to be a healthier me...easy to say, much harder to do.
Faith came with me to this week's meeting, and she helped me set a goal to work out at least 3 times this week. Since I'm off of work today, and she is home with a "sore throat," I decided today was a good day to dust off a workout dvd. I hate, hate, hate nearly every exercise dvd I've ever played (Billy Blanks, feel free to ignore that statement). The rational part of me knows it's due to my attitude towards exercise, but I still can't get over the music, the "You Can Do Its," and the smiles -- why does everyone just keep smiling while I sweat buckets and groan? Despite the pep talks and the awkwardness of working out with my kiddos bounding along with me, I completed today's workout...I will be sore tomorrow, but I will be okay.
Since it's February in Chicagoland, I will reach my goal of 3 workouts this week with the help of Faithy and workout dvds. I can work through the embarrassment of sweating in my living room and the annoying pep talks from the fitness instructors. I probably won't like it, but I will get over it because my health has to become a priority, and I won't get there without breaking a sweat and overcoming my excuses.
"Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise." ~Sigmund Freud
Thursday, January 17, 2013
The Other One Where I Blog about Blogging: Part 2
In my previous post, I wrote about the numerous blogs that I began and never finished, and I have decided to post them. I'm not sure what's behind my compulsive need to rid my blogger dashboard of my drafts, but I will fell better when it's done. I think. So, here they are...the good, the bad and the incomplete.
April 3, 2011 - Simply Celebrating Life
I love days like today. Jackets were optional, windows were open and smiles were abundant, and it wasn't the weather that brought cheer to the Bogard family today. I had never been to a party like this one before, and I won't soon forget it. Today we celebrated the fact that Grandpa Ray is cancer free. On Thursday, his doctor gave him news worth celebrating...so we did. There were streamers and encouraging signs. We hugged, we laughed, we ate, we shrugged off fears that we weren't brave enough to speak. It was a simple celebration, and at the center was the idea that, as Grandpa said, "a weight was just lifted off [his] shoulders."
Tonight, while Faith prayed she said, "I am so proud of Grandpa for not being sick any more. Thank you." Cancer is scary, vicious and horribly unpredictable, and in many cases patients do not get to celebrate what we did today.
{I would have gone on to mention that Grandma Miller should have had a party to celebrate, but then I would have lamented the loss of Papa and Uncle Tim...so I stopped. But every time I read this post I smile because I remember the joy of that day. Simple joy.}
November 23, 2011 - Gobble, Gobble
Today I’ve asked my students to make a list of what they’re thankful for, and I thought I’d do the same. I love Thanksgiving for the obvious reasons: fun with family, friends and food. But I also love it because it forces me to pause and think about all of the good that is in my life…even when I feel like most things are bad, there is an awful lot of good.
I’m thankful for the tangible: my home, my car, my stuff. But more than anything I’m thankful for the untouchable stuff. I’m grateful for my job and my students…each and every one of them. I’m thankful for the students who are quiet and polite, and for the ones who are loud and talkative…for the ones who complete their work and for the ones who will “turn it in tomorrow.” I can’t explain how much I love what I do…some days more than others…but I am forever thankful that I am a teacher.
I'm thankful for the littlest Bogards because they make me smile more often than not. I love Connor's cheek-to-cheek hugs and Faith's scrap-paper love letters. I love their sense of humor and the way they are learning to play together...Faith is always the mean teacher or the bossy mom, and Connor is the faithful student or doting husband. Oh my, that says a lot about how she might think of me. I love snuggle time on the couch and watching family traditions grown.
I couldn't imagine my life without Kevin. He's steady and stable in the moments I'm not; I admire and am proud of him. He's a dreamer when I need it most, and he is my hero when he takes over bathtime. He is the best father for my children that I could every have wished for.
{Not sure why I never posted this one...probably couldn't write a closing paragraph. I still mean every single word}
March 9, 2012 - Untitled
As an English teacher I am obligated to have a few favorites, and today I am going to write about my favorite poem. However, please note that as a woman, I have the right to change this favorite of mine every day. Today, my favorite poem is "The Red Wheelbarrow" by William Carlos Williams. I believe that this poem is about mothers.
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
Critics will tell you that this poem is about Williams' enigmatic use of words to paint a still life picture, or they may say he is a master of poetic structure. They will talk about monosyllabic words and short and long vowel sounds. They will make you dizzy with their crazy talk, and often I will ignore them.
For me, this poem is about
{See, I quit when the work was going to begin. I would have told you that I often feel like that wheelbarrow, holding my family's life together and hoping like hell that I don't spill everything all over my chickens.}
October 16, 2012 - Nostalgia - My 32nd birthday
Since my last post the leisure of summer evenings has been replaced by the consistent rhythm and pressure of the school year. The sun us setting sooner, and the autumn chill is here to stay. It's difficult to justify writing a blog when lunches need to be made, homework needs to be checked and papers need to be graded...but this week I know it's time to squeeze it in. The leaves are rustling and it's got me feeling a bit nostalgic: Starbuck's cups have warmed my palms, my brother, sister and I have visited County Line Orchard, my kids come in the house pink-cheeked after playing outside, hoodies and long sleeves have become wardrobe staples, everything tastes like pumpkin and spice.
Despite the chaos, life is good.
{That might be my favorite paragraph on this blog.}
November 2, 2012 - Untitled
I love photographs because they capture the essence of a moment. They allow a second of time to be captured forever, and a good photo will allow me to recall the emotions of that moment in an instant. That's part of why I always seem to imagine my life through the lens of a camera or from behind my smartphone; sometimes though, it's great to just live those moments and capture them in my memory instead of on digital film.
Last night was a hectic one for us. Kevin worked late, Faith had cheerleading, Connor was feisty and I, as usual, was exhausted. After coming home from practice the kids were ordered upstairs; Connor was sent to the tub for a quick wash and Faith's dry skin was slathered quickly slathered with aquaphor. He cried about the speed of his bath, and she whined about my hands on her irritated skin. Tensions were high, ease was nowhere to be found. In the middle of the tears and discomfort, Kevin called to ask me to have the kids wait up for him since he was nearly home -- the excitement of waiting up for Daddy brought smiles to my sleepy kiddos eyes.
Then the moment shifted. Gone {were the tears}
{This moment happened as we sat at the top of the steps, exhausted from the whirlwind of the evening's activity...after the phone call they melted into smiling puddles of love. Faith smeared me with aquaphor and Connor probably wiped boogers on my shoulder. But they were finally soft and lovely, and my Hero walked up the stairs to save our day. I love them all}
December 17, 2012 - Untitled
Every night, I pray with my children and we thank him for every gift he has given us, and we ask God's blessing upon us as we go to work and school. We ask that he keeps us safe in all we do, and we pray for the health and happiness of those we love and care for. When I say those prayers and hold their hands, the worrier in me thinks of Kevin's job as a police officer and all the "what ifs" that come with it. I also think about our long commutes, distracted drivers and bad weather. However, when it comes time to worry about the kids' safety, my mind moves to the bumps and bruises of childhood, Stranger Danger and the meanness of the class bully. Never in deepest abyss of my motherhood fears could I have imagined the horror of Friday's events at Sandy Hook Elementary School. My heart aches and I have no capacity to understand the evil that is becoming the norm in this world.
April 3, 2011 - Simply Celebrating Life
I love days like today. Jackets were optional, windows were open and smiles were abundant, and it wasn't the weather that brought cheer to the Bogard family today. I had never been to a party like this one before, and I won't soon forget it. Today we celebrated the fact that Grandpa Ray is cancer free. On Thursday, his doctor gave him news worth celebrating...so we did. There were streamers and encouraging signs. We hugged, we laughed, we ate, we shrugged off fears that we weren't brave enough to speak. It was a simple celebration, and at the center was the idea that, as Grandpa said, "a weight was just lifted off [his] shoulders."
Tonight, while Faith prayed she said, "I am so proud of Grandpa for not being sick any more. Thank you." Cancer is scary, vicious and horribly unpredictable, and in many cases patients do not get to celebrate what we did today.
{I would have gone on to mention that Grandma Miller should have had a party to celebrate, but then I would have lamented the loss of Papa and Uncle Tim...so I stopped. But every time I read this post I smile because I remember the joy of that day. Simple joy.}
November 23, 2011 - Gobble, Gobble
Today I’ve asked my students to make a list of what they’re thankful for, and I thought I’d do the same. I love Thanksgiving for the obvious reasons: fun with family, friends and food. But I also love it because it forces me to pause and think about all of the good that is in my life…even when I feel like most things are bad, there is an awful lot of good.
I’m thankful for the tangible: my home, my car, my stuff. But more than anything I’m thankful for the untouchable stuff. I’m grateful for my job and my students…each and every one of them. I’m thankful for the students who are quiet and polite, and for the ones who are loud and talkative…for the ones who complete their work and for the ones who will “turn it in tomorrow.” I can’t explain how much I love what I do…some days more than others…but I am forever thankful that I am a teacher.
I'm thankful for the littlest Bogards because they make me smile more often than not. I love Connor's cheek-to-cheek hugs and Faith's scrap-paper love letters. I love their sense of humor and the way they are learning to play together...Faith is always the mean teacher or the bossy mom, and Connor is the faithful student or doting husband. Oh my, that says a lot about how she might think of me. I love snuggle time on the couch and watching family traditions grown.
I couldn't imagine my life without Kevin. He's steady and stable in the moments I'm not; I admire and am proud of him. He's a dreamer when I need it most, and he is my hero when he takes over bathtime. He is the best father for my children that I could every have wished for.
{Not sure why I never posted this one...probably couldn't write a closing paragraph. I still mean every single word}
March 9, 2012 - Untitled
As an English teacher I am obligated to have a few favorites, and today I am going to write about my favorite poem. However, please note that as a woman, I have the right to change this favorite of mine every day. Today, my favorite poem is "The Red Wheelbarrow" by William Carlos Williams. I believe that this poem is about mothers.
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
Critics will tell you that this poem is about Williams' enigmatic use of words to paint a still life picture, or they may say he is a master of poetic structure. They will talk about monosyllabic words and short and long vowel sounds. They will make you dizzy with their crazy talk, and often I will ignore them.
For me, this poem is about
{See, I quit when the work was going to begin. I would have told you that I often feel like that wheelbarrow, holding my family's life together and hoping like hell that I don't spill everything all over my chickens.}
October 16, 2012 - Nostalgia - My 32nd birthday
Since my last post the leisure of summer evenings has been replaced by the consistent rhythm and pressure of the school year. The sun us setting sooner, and the autumn chill is here to stay. It's difficult to justify writing a blog when lunches need to be made, homework needs to be checked and papers need to be graded...but this week I know it's time to squeeze it in. The leaves are rustling and it's got me feeling a bit nostalgic: Starbuck's cups have warmed my palms, my brother, sister and I have visited County Line Orchard, my kids come in the house pink-cheeked after playing outside, hoodies and long sleeves have become wardrobe staples, everything tastes like pumpkin and spice.
Despite the chaos, life is good.
{That might be my favorite paragraph on this blog.}
November 2, 2012 - Untitled
I love photographs because they capture the essence of a moment. They allow a second of time to be captured forever, and a good photo will allow me to recall the emotions of that moment in an instant. That's part of why I always seem to imagine my life through the lens of a camera or from behind my smartphone; sometimes though, it's great to just live those moments and capture them in my memory instead of on digital film.
Last night was a hectic one for us. Kevin worked late, Faith had cheerleading, Connor was feisty and I, as usual, was exhausted. After coming home from practice the kids were ordered upstairs; Connor was sent to the tub for a quick wash and Faith's dry skin was slathered quickly slathered with aquaphor. He cried about the speed of his bath, and she whined about my hands on her irritated skin. Tensions were high, ease was nowhere to be found. In the middle of the tears and discomfort, Kevin called to ask me to have the kids wait up for him since he was nearly home -- the excitement of waiting up for Daddy brought smiles to my sleepy kiddos eyes.
Then the moment shifted. Gone {were the tears}
{This moment happened as we sat at the top of the steps, exhausted from the whirlwind of the evening's activity...after the phone call they melted into smiling puddles of love. Faith smeared me with aquaphor and Connor probably wiped boogers on my shoulder. But they were finally soft and lovely, and my Hero walked up the stairs to save our day. I love them all}
December 17, 2012 - Untitled
Every night, I pray with my children and we thank him for every gift he has given us, and we ask God's blessing upon us as we go to work and school. We ask that he keeps us safe in all we do, and we pray for the health and happiness of those we love and care for. When I say those prayers and hold their hands, the worrier in me thinks of Kevin's job as a police officer and all the "what ifs" that come with it. I also think about our long commutes, distracted drivers and bad weather. However, when it comes time to worry about the kids' safety, my mind moves to the bumps and bruises of childhood, Stranger Danger and the meanness of the class bully. Never in deepest abyss of my motherhood fears could I have imagined the horror of Friday's events at Sandy Hook Elementary School. My heart aches and I have no capacity to understand the evil that is becoming the norm in this world.
I kiss my children and send them off to school with their hearts and heads full of the promises of the day...today will be art, music and recess...after school we will...Tomorrow is your Christmas program...There are only 7 days until Christmas...This summer will be... When I plant my kiss onto Faith's often-reluctant lips and receive Connor's delicious kisses I always have that passing moment of mom guilt. It's fleeting and some days it's heavier than others, but it is always a mixture of uncertainty and longing -- uncertainty about what their day will bring and longing for a few more minutes of them in my arms. But now that moment will undoubtedly contain some fear; it will be fear over knowing that I am letting my babies go in a world full of evil and hatred that I can't even fathom, and knowing that almost nothing could have been done to prevent the tragedy on December 14, 2012.
Some will find ways to assign blame: gun control, school security, mental illness, sensationalized media, God, or the lack of Him. No matter where the fingers are pointed the fact remains that this tragedy has happened and this world continues to change.
{This was written with a heart so heavy that I couldn't continue. On that day my perception of this world shifted, yet again because evil became so painfully clear, and I saw how little protection I have over those that I love. My heart was also heavy because Sheriff Terry Marketti, Kevin's boss and friend died that same morning.}
So there you have it; my drafts are published and maybe I will feel better about all of these words that swirl in my head. I think that I will post a bit more frequently without my own self-imposed pressure to make it great. Instead, I will let writing by my form of catharsis. I will write because I want to, free from pressure and full of satisfaction.
{This was written with a heart so heavy that I couldn't continue. On that day my perception of this world shifted, yet again because evil became so painfully clear, and I saw how little protection I have over those that I love. My heart was also heavy because Sheriff Terry Marketti, Kevin's boss and friend died that same morning.}
So there you have it; my drafts are published and maybe I will feel better about all of these words that swirl in my head. I think that I will post a bit more frequently without my own self-imposed pressure to make it great. Instead, I will let writing by my form of catharsis. I will write because I want to, free from pressure and full of satisfaction.
The One Where I Blog About Blogging: Part 1
I recently read that the ideas you think about immediately before falling asleep and just as you wake are the parts of your life that you love the most or that you are the most troubled by. If that statement is true, then I have a deep concern for writing. I think about it every single day. It is the filter through which I process my life...day in and day out, like it or not. When I lay down, after I've done a final sweep of digital media, said good night to Kevin and turned off the news, my brain begins to write about my day. I don't just think about the events that happen, I process them through my writers "voice." I find myself revising my words as they float about in my head, working through the perfect phrasing and diction while almost always trying to unify each of my days through some sort of theme. It sounds crazy doesn't it? That's because it is; and then, when I wake up, I do it all again. My brain is always, always, always writing. Not thinking...writing. Drafting, revising, editing and forever considering publication, and it's that "publication" that seems to weigh heaviest on my mind. But, understand that when I say publication I do not mean that someone will suddenly happen upon my intermittent, mediocre blog and tell me how spectacular my writing is while offering me an advance on my first memoir; instead, my version of publication is simply purging those thoughts and putting the words to "paper" and getting them out of my head.
I try to sit down and write when I can, but the whole wife-mom-teacher thing seems to get in the way. Plus, the simplicity of my mental drafting is much preferred to the actual work of doing it. There have been many days where I have started a blog post only to never finish it, which makes my blogger dashboard look like this:
Draft, Draft, Draft, Draft. Those are my thoughts started and never finished...it seems like that is a commentary on my life. It is a luxury to finish what I start these days, even though my head is full of my "handwritten" drafts. Here are some of the blogs I would have written if life had let me make it to the keyboard:
I know that I haven't finished the blogs on my dashboard or started many of the ones in my head because my idea wasn't unified, or my perspective wasn't witty enough, or the topic was too heavy for me to accurately explain my ideas. Plainly, I just didn't think it was "good enough"...so I just stopped. Left them there to dangle, unsure if or when I'd publish them. So, I've decided that today the lingering drafts will be published, incomplete and inadequate as they may be. You can find them here, in part 2.
There is always this hope that when I sit at the keyboard the words will flow from my fingertips with the same flourish and style that they carry when they are simply thoughts, but unfortunately I find myself stumbling and backspacing again and again. I am constantly aware that my brain is telling me to write...so now I think it's time to listen. My goal is that I will start to make time to clear my head while sitting at the keyboard...not everything I write will be as refined as finished as I would like it to be, but that's going to have to be okay. After all, I am only writing my blog, not my first memoir...yet.
I try to sit down and write when I can, but the whole wife-mom-teacher thing seems to get in the way. Plus, the simplicity of my mental drafting is much preferred to the actual work of doing it. There have been many days where I have started a blog post only to never finish it, which makes my blogger dashboard look like this:
Draft, Draft, Draft, Draft. Those are my thoughts started and never finished...it seems like that is a commentary on my life. It is a luxury to finish what I start these days, even though my head is full of my "handwritten" drafts. Here are some of the blogs I would have written if life had let me make it to the keyboard:
- The beauty of Connor's eyes when he smiles: breathtaking joy. I am sure that I will still write this one someday.
- My take on not getting the English Supervisor's position: written in the vain of Garth Brooks' "Unanswered Prayers" or Train's "Bruises" [insert deep sigh of satisfying relief].
- Ode to my Husband: the fact that I am not a fan of digital PDAs makes this one difficult to write...Kevin knows how very awesome he is to me, but sometimes I want to share that with the world.
- ND vs. Pitt - The Tale of Jimmy's Birthday Surprise: what a day of love and celebration, peppered with a bit of awkward family fun, followed with a completely unsatisfying win.
- January 1, 2013: I will devote this year to simplicity, loving others and moving out of my home [subtitled: the day I packed my kitchen].
I know that I haven't finished the blogs on my dashboard or started many of the ones in my head because my idea wasn't unified, or my perspective wasn't witty enough, or the topic was too heavy for me to accurately explain my ideas. Plainly, I just didn't think it was "good enough"...so I just stopped. Left them there to dangle, unsure if or when I'd publish them. So, I've decided that today the lingering drafts will be published, incomplete and inadequate as they may be. You can find them here, in part 2.
There is always this hope that when I sit at the keyboard the words will flow from my fingertips with the same flourish and style that they carry when they are simply thoughts, but unfortunately I find myself stumbling and backspacing again and again. I am constantly aware that my brain is telling me to write...so now I think it's time to listen. My goal is that I will start to make time to clear my head while sitting at the keyboard...not everything I write will be as refined as finished as I would like it to be, but that's going to have to be okay. After all, I am only writing my blog, not my first memoir...yet.
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