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.

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.