2013: A retrospective

2013 was a big year at our house. We all learned, matured, and grew either physically or emotionally.  Here are a few highlights:

Paul entered Kindergarten and Claire entered second grade. We were pleased to learn that Claire's teacher knew her and loved her before she even entered the second grade classroom. Claire loves reading and covers just about as many books as Sarah.  She is also excited about learning to multiply.  She is matter of fact and solid in her opinions and knowledge. She also is perceptive and often makes Sarah pause with her insights.

Paul loves his kindergarten teacher and mostly likes going to school. If you ask him, it's a gamble whether he will answer in the positive or the negative. He definitely would rather be home with Mama, but he is slowly adjusting to the fact he'll be at school every day.  He does have many friends and several girls try to hug him each day when he leaves the building.  He wasn't in any sports this year, but he is by far the most athletic in the family and constantly inventing new sports and climbing walls (literally).

Adam discovered Mark Twain in 2013. He's been working through the biographies, which are at least 1,000 pages each, but taking a break to read short stories. He also found a new love of sharing literature with the children and read them both Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer this year.  They've started working on Treasure Island.

Sarah compiled some of her blog entries into book fashion.  This was a huge step for me for several reasons.
1. I completed a childhood goal by writing a book.
2. I found out that some of my writing is actually worth paying for.
3. I learned how to make an epub.
4. I can google myself and find myself on amazon now!

My book is only available in electronic format. It's my first one and it's a trial run/learning process.  I would be honored if you read, it, though!  If you have a Kindle, you can download it directly to your Kindle device.  If you have an Ipad or other Apple device, you must first download the Kindle App and then go to amazon and get it.  If you have a Nook, like me, I'm sorry, it just won't work.

Here's the link:
http://www.amazon.com/Goofiness-Grace-Sarah-Boyette-ebook/dp/B00HBQUFL0/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_t

At the beginning of 2013 I came up with the idea that going to seminary would be a good idea for me. I could learn more about faith, the Bible, and people and become a theological writer. I planned to get started in 2023. At the end of 2013 I am reading several theological tomes to prepare for orientation. I'll be attending seminary next semester!

If you ask me how I will balance everything, or what my plan is, the answer is that I don't know. I work two jobs, have two kids, two dogs, and a husband. But, just a year ago I hadn't even considered going back to school and I'm just stepping forward on faith.  It's pretty crazy that I don't know how long this will take or where I will end up, but life is short and you have to take chances where you can.

2013 has been so full of surprises that we can't wait for 2014 to begin!

Writing a Book

One of my lifelong dreams has been to become an author. I've written in various forms and forums my entire life. So I am ecstatic to announce that I have a published work!

(Click on the book cover to go to my amazon.com listing.)

You can click the link above, or search for my name on amazon.com. If you have a Kindle, the book will be delivered instantly once you order it.  If you have an Apple device, you need to first download the free Kindle App and then go online and buy it.

The book is $1.99 and every cent raised goes directly to fund my seminary education. So by purchasing my book, you are helping me achieve two dreams at one time!

I know this isn't going to win the National Book Award, but everyone starts somewhere, and this is my starting place.

Initially I thought I'd use this as an exercise in writing as well as graphic design, but that didn't work out. I spent hours laying out my book in InDesign and learning how to use that program. I thought I had it press ready, but then due to amazon.com specifications, I ended up having to redo the whole thing in Microsoft Word. So for any of you that think you might want to create an epub, just create it in MS Word and save yourself a lot of time.

Thank you for helping me achieve my dreams!

Slowing down the holiday hamster wheel

The Christmas season is often a blur to me. The period of time between Thanksgiving and New Years flies by seemingly before I can blink.
This year has been different.

This is what the truck looked like when it was half-way packed.

For Thanksgiving, instead of our traditional drive to East Texas to spend time with family, we went camping. We drove to Glen Rose State Park to see the dinosaur tracks. Adam's godparents brought their RV and we brought our tent and just about everything but the kitchen sink.  We packed long johns, extra socks, hats, coats, and gloves.  We said we were prepared for the cold.  I was not prepared for the cold. The first night the temperature got down below freezing and I was wearing everything I had in my sleeping bag under blankets in the tent and still cursing because I was so cold. The kids were sleeping peacefully. Claire was snoring soundly in her sleeping bag and Paul was enjoying sleeping in my part of the bed. (He was cold.)  I was absolutely miserable and considered leaving in the middle of the night. I didn't.
The next two nights we left our space heater on in the tent, so we were actually warm-ish. During the days we went hiking, sat by the fire, and enjoyed being away from everything.  Overall, it was enjoyable, and funny memories were made.
Two weeks later, we had the beginning of Icepocalypse. It seemed that the weathermen were being overly dramatic at first, but since it's been a full week since it began and we're still sliding on the ice, I guess there was some truth to their predictions.
Solid ice outside means that we've stayed inside.  We were home-bound for four days. This actually wasn't a bad thing.  I was able to take a breath, read a book, clean up clutter, and get Christmas cards ordered. I've been baking banana bread to cover my tuition at seminary this semester and got at least 30 loaves baked. The kids had uninterrupted play for days on end. Luckily, as cabin fever was starting to set in, the ice started clearing away.

Jumping on an ice trampoline.

The ice has humbled me. I have been forced to walk slowly and steadily. I have been forced to use what I have at home instead of running out to the store. For the most part, we kept the TV off and the kids played with toys they hadn't seen in months. During Christmas when I'm just running around with my to-do lists, it was nice to be forced to sit still.  I spent an entire day mostly sitting by the fire crocheting, reading, and getting up to bake or help a kid.  It was wonderful.
I've been listening to our hamster, Snouts Brownie, running in his hamster wheel. He doesn't do it all day, every day. Sometimes he gets off the wheel and explores his world. Both the ice and Snouts have been good reminders for me that sometimes it's okay to step off the hamster wheel of busy-ness and just be.

A Public Service Announcement

Mesothelioma is a hard word to say.  It's also a horrible disease.

Through this blog, I was recently contacted by a survivor of Mesothelioma.  Please click here to learn about her story and help share awareness.

http://mesothelioma.com/heather

Thank you.

Sarah

Human BEings, not Human DOings

Christmas and Thanksgiving are coming! Christmas and Thanksgiving are coming! Christmas and Thanksgiving are coming!

If I'm not careful, the holidays will whiz by without me looking up from my to-do list.

We're packing for a camping trip. Rather than drive to East Texas for Thanksgiving, we're going tent camping instead. That means instead of packing a few clothes and books we also have to pack blankets, sleeping bags, food, cooking utensils, and clothes and books. We've been getting ready for this trip for longer than we will be gone.

Meanwhile, I'm organizing all our holiday shopping so I can spread it out and not have to buy everything on one pay check.

And I'm still working two part-time jobs.

And I'm trying to find time to be an attentive mother and wife.

And I'm trying to take some time for myself.

And I'm trying to tackle that mound of laundry that just won't go away.

And I've got to take a dog to the vet.

And I'm writing a book.

Obviously there are just too many tasks to be completed each day. As efficient as I am, it will never get done.

Yesterday, time stood still as the kids and I visited a dying friend. Claire and Paul wanted to tell him all about the exercises they know, "Look at this! Jumping Jacks!" Our friend wanted to teach them a few things about local geography and baby animals. "What's a baby dove called? A squab. What are the three forks of the Trinity River?"  (You'll have to Google that one because when I looked it up it said we have four forks.)

True to myself, I made the kids bring entertainment items to amuse themselves with while we sat with our friend. I try to fill each moment of the kids' lives with productive activities. "Here's Battleship! It teaches you math! Claire, bring your crochet materials and let's chain stitch!" We didn't use any of that.

Instead, we attempted to sit still and talk with our friend. Sitting still for me included sitting cross-legged on the floor.  Sitting still for the kids meant climbing on me, doing leg lifts, standing on their heads, jumping, talking non-stop, and aggravating each other.

Entering the final days of his life, our friend is still patient with the children. A retired school teacher, he was still trying to teach. And I was trying to do, do, do.

We were there several hours and eventually I stopped doing. I sat by the front door and watched the birds come and go from the feeders. The kids happily began an instructional workout. When I stopped doing, everything calmed down.

His wife always tells me, "God created us to be human BEings, not human DOings."

This holiday season, I'm going to try my best to BE instead of DO. I'm going to try to remember to breathe and recognize the miracle of life. I'm going to recognize that there will always be more to do. I'm going to try to sit with the kids and just be.

The Domino Effect

The White Stripes have a song called "Little Room" that I've been thinking about lately.  The lyrics are:

Well you're in your little room

and you're working on something good

but if it's really good

you're gonna need a bigger room

and when you're in the bigger room

you might not know what to do

you might have to think of

how you got started 

sitting in your little room

This song represents my life in general right now.  We had water damage in the house so we had to have some restoration efforts.  But it's not as simple as that.  As and example, I'll describe the saga of our cabinets.  We needed to replace half of our kitchen cabinets and were lucky to find matches.  But to replace the cabinets we had to rethink them.  Our refrigerator is about 15 years old and has a freezer on top of the refrigerator.  Most refrigerators sold now are side by side doors.  When placing our pantry cabinet, we had to take into effect the reality that one day we would own a side by side refrigerator which would have banged into the pantry cabinet.  So we had to move the pantry.  And while we were moving the pantry, we could add some more cabinets.  More counter space!  More cabinet space!  Great, but then we had to decide how many drawers we wanted, what the knobs should look like.  Do we want new knobs on the old cabinets or just leave them clashing?  On and on.

We got the cabinets installed, but they are unfinished.  Then comes the next round of questions.  What color do we paint the cabinets?  I wanted light blue but was wisely advised by Home Depot to go with cream and save light blue for the walls.  Why yes, the walls do need a new paint job!  So now we have a paint job to do.  We started making progress on that and then our top cabinets started pulling away from the wall.  So now the new cabinets have to be repaired.  

We have learned in the last few months that home improvement never ends.  It almost makes you want to throw up your hands and move to a new house but then we would have to start over!  What a terrible idea, not to mention one that is no realm of possibility.  We love our house, but we hate this never-ending home improvement hamster wheel that we are caught in.  We see no escaping.  I know that once we get in the floors and once the kitchen is painted, we'll start looking at other walls and realize they need painting, too.  

Housework is the same way.  Scrub a toilet and then notice you need to mop.  Mop and then notice you need to dust.  Dust and then notice the house is cluttered and needs organizing.

Raising children is the same way.  Teach them one thing well and then realize a concept/life-skill that you forgot.  Teach them that one and then the next one and the next one and the next.

Healthy living is another.  A week ago, ran for the first time in about two years.  I didn't get to the end of the block, so the next day I tried again.  The next morning I succeeded in going further, but not far enough, so I tried again.  I was feeling so good about working out that I decided to eat a little healthier.  Once salad led to another and another and then I didn't even order a pizza once this week!

It's the domino effect.  One thing leads to another to another and to another.  If you think you've reached the last domino, you are wrong.  There's always another after it.  But that's life.  I believe that life is not the destination of perfection and reaching the final domino.  That is impossible.  Life is what happens between the dominos.  Life is the reach for the next domino, knowing that there is no end.  Life is putting up your hand to stop the dominos to catch a breath before you immerse yourself in the never-ending labyrinth of life again.

Since I have accepted this fact of life, life is a little easier.  I know I will never, ever, finish the laundry unless my family becomes nudists, so it's okay to take a break to go to the zoo.  I know that I will never teach the kids everything they need to know in life, so it's okay to watch half an hour of TV.  The house won't paint itself, but the pool is open.  

It's officially summer now at the Boyette house and I can't wait to see what dominos will fall next and which ones we can stop in order to play.

A Critique on Criticism

In my Bible study we discussed a passage on criticism written by Catherine Marshall.  You can read the post here.  Marshall decides that she will take a day to "fast" from criticalness.

I decided to try the experiment myself.  I didn't tell members of my family, but designated Saturday as a day free from criticism.  At the end of the day I felt pretty proud of myself because I succeeded.  Upon review of the day's activities, however, I realized that it wasn't much of a challenge.  Saturday was a day full of shopping.  I had money to spend and customer service people wanted to sell me items.  I was a satisfied shopper with no room for criticism.

I was raised in a household where nothing and no one was immune from criticism.  From the size of my feet to the expression on a television actress' face, all were fodder for critiques and jokes.

In college I finally realized that this wasn't a healthy way to live.  Adam helped me with that by asking questions that made me reflect on my actions.  He's always been gifted at making me see the world in a different light.  Once I realized that I was often in conversations that were critiques, I worked to stop it.

With this time of experiment this past weekend,  I was feeling pretty proud of myself.  During conversation in the car, Adam reminded me of silly, brainless, and admittedly hilarious remarks I've made that have become inside jokes around the house.  "But those jokes started years ago!  I've tried to avoid doing that."  Darn it if he didn't say one I came up with a couple of months ago.

I'm not perfect.  It's hard to shed a habit you were raised with. 

Monday was an especially difficult day for criticism.  I took the kids to the zoo and met a friend there.  I found myself criticizing a slew of things and people, including those "other moms" who wear those skin-tight running/yoga tights.  As soon as I said it, I realized how dumb I sounded.  Who cares what kind of pants people wear?  Seriously, do I have nothing better to do than to make fun of pants?

In Bible study we discussed where we find ourselves most critical.  One said that we often make critical remarks to fill a void in dialog.  Another said that we do that when we know that the person we're saying it to will agree.  I found both insights to be true.

This week I am going to try to be less critical of both myself and others.  If there's a void in dialog, I will attempt to be comfortable in silence.  I will strive to keep my unhelpful comments to myself.  I know brainless criticism doesn't help anyone.  Also, surprisingly, it is not my job to critique and fix the world.  I am not the Messiah.

Exciting Excitement from Exciteland

Last week I was accepted to Brite Divinity School. I hope to enter in January. I'm very, very, very excited about seminary and learning, being around people, and becoming a professional Jesus-lover.

I'm also very excited about the Be the Change book. My friend Rev. Jason Valendy blogs regularly and decided to compile some of his best work into a book format. I had the privilege of communicating with him along the way to watch his process and help him edit his work. A couple of weeks after he started, he now has an epub book!  It is available for all platforms free, at the link here. I like Jason's writing because it challenges me to look at the intersection between scripture and the world in a different light. He co-pastors Saginaw UMC with his wife, Estee.

Once I got my acceptance letter to seminary, I had a conversation with Adam where we realized I need to raise about $1,000 to pay for my first semester's tuition. I anticipate having more scholarships in the fall, but if I want to attend this spring (I do) I need to raise some funds.

So I figured, why not write a book myself?  I had never thought I could do it so soon.  I did some research and it turns out that I have all the software I need and almost enough material.  So that's what I'm doing. I'm writing a book! I'm going to sell it for $1 or $2 to raise money for tuition.

My book is tentatively titled "Goofiness and Grace."

I'm very excited about having a "necessity is the motherhood of invention" drive to create my first published work. Stay tuned for details!

My Feet

“Thus, when you wake up in the morning, called by God to be a self again, if you want to know who you are, watch your feet. Because where your feet take you, that is who you are.”  --Frederick Buechner

I have big feet.  Sometime around middle school I hit a size 10 and they stopped growing, thankfully.  My mom used to call me "clodhopper" and my grandpa always said, "You've got a firm foundation there."

(For the record, I just now found out what clodhopper means.  You can click here and find out, too.)

When I was pregnant with Paul, my feet swelled up to Pillsbury Doughboy proportions.  I had to go to Payless and buy size 12 flip flops, the only shoes I could wear.  There was much drama when I had to show up on campus to teach in flip flops because they were against dress code.  I ended up borrowing Adam's Birkenstocks and adjusting them to the last hole.  Luckily after Paul was born, they went back to their normal large size and I don't have to special order shoes.

My feet get no respect. They are neither pretty nor pampered. But these are the only feet I have. Just this week they have taken me to on several beautiful fall walks. They have accompanied the kids and I as we walked home and they burst with excitement about the day. These feet took me to church and school and the store.  These feet took me to Bible study where we laughed for an hour and a half. These feet sat behind my desk yesterday as I listened to funky music while typing out the words of the church.

I always think of my hands as tools of service. I use my hands to hug, to shake, to write, to work, to help, to cook. I forget though, that my feet are there also. If I started recognizing my feet as useful as my hands, would I walk different? Would I get more pedicures? Would I wear better shoes?

Today I am thankful for my ten toes that keep me balanced. When I have full hands, I'm thankful for my heels that close doors behind me. I'm thankful for that bone that juts out and reminds me of my grandmother. I'm thankful for the large, firm foundation I'm standing on that keeps me from swaying easily and keeps me grounded.

In this season of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for my hard-working, often overlooked feet. They might be big and they might not be pretty, but they take me everywhere I go.

Honoring My Commitment to Creation

Last summer I read the book, Where'd You Go, Bernadette?
For those of you that haven't read it, it's the story of a mother that goes missing and the daughter that pieces together emails to find her. I wasn't drawn into the plot like I assumed I would be. I was drawn into the theme of creation.

In the book, Bernadette loses her sense of self when she stops creating. Before she became a mother, she was a famous architect. Then she has a daughter, the family moves, and she begins worrying about things like her status among the other mothers at her daughter's private school. She has a need to create art and when she isn't creating, she's losing her sense of who she is.

Last week when Anne Lamott was in Fort Worth, one audience member asked her about art. She said she was an artist but has become busy focusing on one activity or another and hasn't had time for her art. Her question was along the lines of, "Is this okay? What should I do?"

Anne replied with her classic responses of working at the same time every day, allowing yourself to make crap sometimes, and just doing it. She told the woman not to let her life pass by and to find time for art. All of that was nearly scripted. I'd heard it all before from multiple sources.  But then she said something profound that is still rolling around in my head.

She said, "You need to honor your commitment to creation."

On the surface, she simply meant that if you identify yourself as an artist or a writer that you need to make space in your life for your art. If that is what you are, you need to make sure that is what you do. Not necessarily as a full-time job, but as an integral component to your life.  Just like in the book Bernadette eventually realizes that she is not her best self when she doesn't create.  This is a good message and one that can resonate with all of us.

But then I revisited it.  What if I thought of those words in a different way?

"You need to honor your commitment to Creation."

Creation, as in the world, as in being part of the world, as in recognizing your role as a cog on the great machine of life. Since I call myself a writer, I have made a commitment to Creation, the world, and all the people in it, that I will create writing.

When I look at the phrase that way, my commitment takes on another level of meaning. Somehow this little blog is important to Creation. Somehow my creating helps the world be a better place in a small, sometimes microscopic way. But how awesome is that? When I create, it's honoring my commitment to be a writer, but it's also honoring my commitment to give back to the human race. No matter how small, when we all give back with our gifts, together we make it beautiful.

Creating community, Anne Lamott, and Hugs

Yesterday my favorite author, Anne Lamott, came to Fort Worth.  She was here in April and I was excited about that for weeks before the event and weeks after the event. When you love an artists' work and then get to meet that person, and even connect with them through a hug, it makes your connection to the work even stronger.  This time was no different.
The talk started at 7, but I assumed there would be thousands of people there, so I showed up at 5. I did this at her last appearance, too, and ended up making a new friend.  This time I knew what to expect, so I was less anxious and nervous and just buzzing with enthusiasm.  The only people at the event when I showed up were the organizers, who were arranging chairs, cookies on trays, and fall displays.  They all laughed at me and my excitement.  That's perfectly fine. These people were somehow responsible for bringing my favorite author to town, so I wanted to show them my gratitude and excitement.
Shortly after I arrived, another crazed fan walked in. I had positioned myself by the door so I could see everyone coming in and introduce myself.  I greeted the people who came in the door to be greeters, which was pretty funny.  The new crazed fan was Carol and she had driven for nearly two hours to see Anne Lamott.  We became fast friends.  As more people arrived, I introduced everyone to everyone and pretty soon the entire atrium area was laughing and smiling. As 7:00 approached, everyone was respectful of Carol and my wait and excitement and they all lined up behind us to go into the church's sanctuary.
By the time the doors opened, I had made at least 20 new friends, and had been a part of at least five meaningful conversations about faith and life.  All my new friends ended up sitting with my already friends and we filled a pew before we even had finished arriving.  As more people arrived that had planned to sit with us, we scooted down and talked with each other, swapping bits of our life stories.
This is what I love about church. This is a huge reason why I am headed to seminary. I believe in the gifts of community and I love connecting with people.  By the time the event began, there wasn't a distinction between new friends and old. We were all friends together. We were surrounded by love and were sharing infectious caring with one another.  I put on my jacket and I had a close friend plus the lady behind me helping me put my arm in the sleeve.  Just a simple action like putting on my jacket was infused with love.
Of course we all loved hearing Anne Lamott speak. My new friend Carol cried several times and then another new friend passed a kleenex box down the row.
After the event I said farewell to friends as they left and then I got in line to have a stack of books signed.  I gave Anne a gift of pens, a pencil pouch, bluebonnet seeds, a copy of my blog post about her, and a card that says, "You are beloved, precious child of God and beautiful to behold."  She loved, loved, loved it and even hugged me a good, long time.
***(I got the card idea from my friend Rev. Nancy, who passed them out during Bible study one night. I passed them out this year during Bible study and had leftovers. I was handing them out to my new friends like trading cards. Everyone loved them.  One of my new friends even had Anne sign her card so she could put it on her mirror.)
So on the day after the event, I am unsure what I loved most. Was it the excitement and anticipation? Was it the connection with new and already friends? Was it the sense of community we created? Was it Anne's speech? Was it the honor of speaking to her and offering her a gift? Was it knowing that some of my writing will be read by my favorite author? Was it getting a hug from so many people, including Anne Lamott?
I'm not sure, but I am sure I will be happy about this for a good, long time.

My Grandmother's Quilt and Anne Lamott

I found this quilt at my grandmother's house when my grandfather moved to an apartment.  It's hand made and hand-stitched and sturdy and beautiful.  This summer I let Claire keep it on her bed as a "summertime" comforter and the quilt survived jumping on the bed and forts and two children giggling.  Now that fall is here, I got Claire's regular blankets out of the closet and reclaimed this beauty.

It's got some gaps in it right now where stitches came undone, but I've been repairing it stitch by stitch while watching television or praying.  I know my grandmother would be delighted that my kids are loving and using this blanket, even though that meant needed repairs.

This week my favorite author Anne Lamott will be in Fort Worth again.  This is her second appearance here this year.  Her book tours often haven't made it to our area, so for her to come back to my hometown is an exciting honor.  She's currently promoting her new book, Stitches, which is supposed to be a companion to Help, Thanks, Wow.

What I love about Anne Lamott is her transparent honesty and strong faith.  She knows she's imperfect and needs regular divine intervention and she shares that.  So many people try to look good or sound right.  Honesty in imperfection is like a breath of fresh air.  I strive for it as well, but I'm still practicing being transparent about my shortcomings and all the grace I receive on a daily basis.

While I've been sitting on the couch stitching the holes together in this beautiful quilt, I've been thinking of the rich metaphors that action brings.  

I have to sit down to repair the quilt, just like sometimes I have to sit down to be repaired.  When I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I miss hands trying to help me or hug me.  I have to sit down to be repaired.

The string the I'm using to patch the pieces together is stronger than the original thread.  Similarly, when I fall apart, I come out of the repair stronger than before.  When I get overwhelmed with work, motherhood, or life in general, I have to be pulled back together.  Sometimes a friend helps me, sometimes a quiet prayer helps me, sometimes a walk by myself helps me.  Whatever it is that pulls me back together, though, patches me up stronger than I was before.

Each patch of this quilt has a story with it, just like each part of my life is a story.  Everyone's life is full of color, alternating between bright and dark, dull and glittery, busy patterns and calmness.  If you look too closely at one part you miss the beauty of the entire quilt of life.  When I miss the big picture, I miss beauty and how every part of life works together to weave a beautiful story.

I can't wait to meet Anne Lamott on Thursday and share with her what her story means to me and my grandma's quilt.  I can't wait to see the addition of new patches on my life quilt and how they make the blanket of life even more beautiful.

Why I keep my nametags

At the places I go, I often end up with nametags.  I always keep them.  Not forever; they often wear out and I have to toss them, but as long as the memory of the event is fresh in my mind, I keep my nametag.

This fall I travelled with a group of ladies to the Church of the Ressurection Leadership Institute in Kansas. At the end of the retreat, most people turned their nametags in so they could be recycled or repurposed.  I didn't.  My nametag hangs in my office and is a visual reminder of what I learned, how God worked in my life that week, and how lessons and techniques learned there are still being implemented and not forgotten.

At church I have a nametag that says "Communications Coordinator."  I wear it often, but not often enough.  It reminds me that I have a place of belonging, that I am part of a team, and that it is not my job to communicate everything that happens at the church.  It is my job to coordinate the communications.  When I'm overwhelmed, that makes a big difference to me.

At my school, my nametag shows that even though I'm only on campus two days a week, I am part of a staff.  I am an educator.  I don't have to attend faculty meetings, but the nametag gives me entry to every classroom in the building and respect from teachers and parents.

A few years ago, some friends of mine started a non-profit group. Adam and I attended the first Fort Worth Dish Out and I still have the nametag to prove it. It reminds me that I played a role, no matter how small, in the start-up.

This past week I attended open house at Brite Divinity School. My nametag there was simple; just my name on a stark white background, suspended on a string around my neck.  It was perfect in it's message.  Here's a place that is expecting me.  Here's a place that I belong.  I have no idea what this place will look like with me in it, but here is my name.  The future is a blank slate.

Nametags are powerful. I can't wait to see where I get my next one.

The Joys of Motherhood

In conversation with a friend recently, she marveled at my motherhood. "I don't know how you do it," she said. Being a parent seems like a daunting task to her.

It's true. Being a parent requires everything you have and more. In this day and age, parents are becoming more honest and more vocal about the difficulties of parenthood. Perfect facades are being laid down for real discussion about struggling to raise children. Books and blogs focused on frustrations of parenthood are published daily. I'm glad that parenting conversations are shifting toward more truth, but this shift also seems to shift toward more negative discussion. I want to be an honest voice to remind us of joy.

When complaining about the struggles of potty-training, we need to remember the joy and hilarity of the Potty Dance. Potty-training was the hardest parenting task I have faced yet. I was often frustrated and downright mad. But I also laughed until I couldn't breathe when my children made it to the bathroom in time and started succeeding. Everyone in the house stopped what they were doing to dance in celebration.

Homework is hard and some days my daughter comes home not wanting to do it at all. "Can I please just have some play time and then do my homework? Why do I have to do this?" Sometimes I have to firmly redirect her back to her task. Without homework, though, light bulb moments often escape my notice. When we regularly engage in educational activities, I get to see the light in Claire and Paul's eyes as they grasp a concept for the first time.

Having kids is like being members of an exclusive club. My husband Adam and I have shared private jokes for years, but now we have four people in on the joke instead of just two. At the grocery store Paul can say a line or make a face and as soon as I understand the reference, I find myself laughing out loud. In the church pew, Adam often says something to us that makes us all shake with laughter.

Without children, reading is a solitary activity. At our house, even if Adam is reading his own book, he will soon find at least one child in his lap. Bedtime stories are a sacred ritual. Snuggling while reading a good book is ecstasy. On times when I have a few moments to read my own book, I feel strange if there isn't a little person next to me or in my lap.

Being a parent adds newness to every aspect of your world. Items on a shelf that I have long overlooked now spark wonder and curiosity in a child. My daily routines are examined and discussed. Nothing escapes notice. It is exhausting, and sometimes I just want to complete a simple task like getting a glass of water without explaining how the water filter works. But if no one is there to ask, I sometimes forget the magic of everyday life.

I love being a mother. I overwhelmed with love and gratitude when I am walking and suddenly find a small hand clasped in my own. I often wake in the middle of the night to find someone has sneaked in and a little arm is draped over me in affection. I regularly have reason to jump on a trampoline. I
pick dandelions and blow the seeds from the stem. I've always been goofy, but it's much more socially acceptable to be goofy with children. Yesterday I was in a sword fight that didn't have any bloodshed. Outgoing children means friends are collected everywhere, and it is rare to leave Wal-Mart without a new acquaintance.

The list goes on and on. Motherhood adds a layer of intensity to all aspects of my life, but it also adds a huge layer of joy.

Thankful Tuesday

It's officially fall weather around here, and I'm savoring it for the brief moment it's around.  Spring never sneaks up on me; I am always anticipating it beginning in February.  Fall, however, always arrives when I'm not looking.  One weekend we'll be splashing in the pool and the next weekend without warning, the pool will be closed until next summer.  Without fail, I'm surprised every year.  Our pool floats still wait hopefully around the pool, but they are about to start collecting fall leaves.
Today I am thankful for:
1. Fancy hot tea that makes me feel warm inside and luxurious.
Last summer on an impulse, we accepted some samples from a Teavana store.  We walked out $50 poorer, but rich in tea and accessories. Now the whole family is hooked on delicious fresh tea. I start brewing it every afternoon in our special tea brewer and the kids and I get started sipping.  Adam comes home to a fresh, hot cup most days.  It's a luxury we all share and relish.
2.  A handy husband.
Last week we received much rain and the roof started leaking.  I put a bucket under the leak and called it a day.  Adam, however, knew that wasn't good enough and crawled through the attic and on the roof multiple times to stop the leak until a professional can come fix it.  He also left work to rescue me when my battery died.
3.  Happy kids
Nothing warms my heart more than to be in the kitchen cooking and listening to the kids jump on the trampoline laughing so hard they lose their breath.
4. A plan in place
Now that I know I'm going back to school, I can start preparing for my next great adventure.  I'm doing a little bit on my application every day.
5.  Friends that I really love
I am so blessed to have several people in my life that I truly love.  Thank you for being my friend.
6. Laughter
It seems that the last week has been extra giggly around here. Adam has the power to crack me up just by saying one word or looking at me strangely.  Paul is working on his funny faces, too, and on the way to church, Sunday, we were all rolling at his sense of humor.  Claire has the ability to make hilarious connections between seemingly dissimilar people and events and she stops me in my tracks laughing.  I am thankful for joy that interrupts my routines.
7.  Halloween costumes
We've all got our costumes around here and we've been wearing them already.  A friend stopped by the house two days ago and I answered the door in my fox ears and tail.  He didn't even blink.  I love that no one thinks twice when I'm wearing something ridiculous.  Want to know why I'm a fox this year?  Click here.
8. Trick and treat
We've been "booing" the neighbors on our street.  Claire and I made a giant double batch of chocolate chip cookies on Saturday.  Claire and Paul have been secretly delivering them plate by plate to neighbors with a sign that says "You've been booed!"  It is so cute to see them sneaking up to the doors to deliver the treats.  Walking down the block and noticing all the posted signs from recipients of our treats makes me happy.
9.  Casa Manana
We had the opportunity to go see Dora Live! on Saturday at Casa Manana. The kids loved it and have been running around the house singing songs from the stage production.  Of course they don't sing the songs normal; there's always a goofy twist, but that's what makes it hilarious.
10. Grace for missing shoes
This morning Paul's world was coming to a crashing halt as leaving time approached and he couldn't find a matching pair of shoes.  We all looked in earnest but no pair was to be found.  His room is a disaster area and he was suffering the consequences.  Claire looked in her room and found three shoes, all different pairs.  Paul found several single shoes in various parts of the  house.  I started picking up and sorting toys, finding a few flip flops, but no matching pairs.  Just when he was lacing up one yellow and one black shoe, I went to the car and found a pair for him.  This afternoon he'll be cleaning his room, but at least his tears were down to a sniffle by the time he walked into the school building.

How I got here and where I'm headed

Growing up, my sister and I often chose occupations to role play.  I distinctly remember being a teacher and a fashion designer for two.  When I grew up I was going to be a comedienne.  No, I was going to be a
fashion designer because I was really into fashion.  My sister and I had a few scraps of fabric that we re-purposed over and over as a dress, a skirt, a veil, a hair tie, and on and on.  Plus, I had the super-awesome fashion designer play kit where you create a fashion with plastic plates and then place a piece of paper on top and rub the design onto the page with a crayon.
Early on I discovered writing and that I had a knack for it. Some stories I wrote in elementary school won a few campus awards.  So in middle school I was an honors student, and honors English was my favorite.  My teacher, Mrs. Bell, encouraged us to write, and write, and write. I had already been toting around a diary with a half-broken lock, but now I started writing in a journal.  Mrs. Bell also started a school newspaper, and I was a reporter.

www.sxu.hu

In high school, I took journalism class for all four years. My teacher Miss Hale taught me everything from how to write a lead to how to lay out a newsletter. We were just converting from taping down a layout to designing it on the computer. I loved journalism so much I remember staying up at school voluntarily until 11 p.m.  The night custodian, Lewis, was a special friend of mine.
In college, I continued on the journalism track. I was a reporter and editor for the Tarrant County Junior College paper.  With my associate's degree in hand, my best friend Adam and I transferred to the University of Texas at Arlington and I continued my journalism major and found my home in the student publications office.  Adam majored in engineering and we stayed best friends; enjoying the world through our vastly different viewpoints and weird senses of humor.  Then our relationship shifted and the week after we graduated college, we got married.
Just as we were approaching college graduation, the newspaper industry halted. Even though I  had contacts who would gladly hire me at several of the local papers, no one could. I was working part time at Half Price Books then, and I loved it. So I stayed there for a while until Adam encouraged me to do something with that degree I had earned. I ended up going back to school for an emergency teacher certification.
Then I taught first grade for six years.  When I was pregnant with Paul, I realized that I didn't want to be a teacher while my children grew up, and Adam and I decided I could be a stay-at-home mom.
Two years into being a stay-at-home mom, I started looking at part-time jobs to help make ends meet.  Nothing was fitting; I couldn't get an interview.  I also couldn't figure out what I would do with the children when I worked.  Adam came home from a church meeting one night and said that the church had to eliminate the communications position and they didn't have anyone to do a church newsletter anymore.  Immediately I knew that was the job for me.  A deal was brokered where I would be paid the exact amount I was seeking to pay bills and my children could attend the church preschool for free.
When Claire went into first grade, Paul started attending preschool full-time and I started working as a literacy tutor on my days off.  I love tutoring because it's pure teaching.  I have a several small groups who listen intently to what I say and work hard.  If anyone starts slacking or not paying attention, I send them back to their homeroom.  Tutoring two days a week let me know, though, that I don't want to be a full-time teacher any more.
Now Paul is in kindergarten and I've been restless.  I'm still working two jobs, which suits me well. I spend alternating Fridays with my grandfather at his retirement home.  Adam and I are finished birthing babies, so I'm looking forward to the next phase of my life.
I seriously considered getting a masters degree in library science and becoming a librarian. I did research and contacted various schools and districts about it.  It just didn't feel right, though, and the more I thought and prayed about it, the less appealing it seemed.
What I love, what makes me feel like a better person, what fills me up, what gives me something to think about for days on end, is talking to people about the intersection between faith and real life. I joyfully recognize God's presence and the power of love in common situations. I love listening to people tell me about their day; and what they struggle with.  I love reading the Bible and making sense of it.  I love recognizing all the ways that God is involved in my life and how people can complete everyday tasks with a sense of doing something holy.  I love seeking people out to encourage them and building relationships.  I love the power of story and the parallels between modern life and the struggles Bible people had.
So where do I go from here?
I've been doing a lot of research, praying, and consulting people in different jobs.  I've been weighing my options. I've discovered a couple of jobs that I didn't even know existed.  After a hard struggle, I decided that I want to go to seminary.  Last week I toured Brite Divinity School on the TCU Campus and I felt like I was at home.  Now I'm starting to work on my application to enter into a program to earn a Masters of Divinity degree.  I'm not sure what I'll do with that yet; the world may look different when I graduate.  I could be a communications specialist in the United Methodist Church.  I could be a pastor.  I could be a writer.  My job could be to write about the intersection of faith and the real world.
Of course I'm a long way from being accepted into the program; the application is no small thing, but at least I know what direction I'm headed. I smile when I think back on all the roads I've traveled to get to where I am and how they all have helped develop me into the person I am today.  I gratefully step forward into this new phase of my life filled with hope and excitement.

I'm not in Kansas any more

Last week I had the opportunity to attend the Church of the Resurrection Leadership Institute in Leawood, Kansas.  The Church of the Resurrection is possibly the most famoust United Methodist Church by itself for its 18,000 members, but also for their phenomenal, well-known pastor and author, Adam Hamilton.

I went with five other ladies from my church.  We all attended our own workshops and took notes to report back.  My workshops centered around church communications. Besides reading books and blogs about church communications, this was my first time to attend an education class specific to the church.

One day I was gulping my coffee the group had to leave me behind while they went into the sanctuary for morning worship. I realized I was the only person in the booth area, so I decided to go ahead an peruse while the crowd was inside.  I went to the United Methodist Communications booth, which usually was surround by people.  There the representative opened with, "I have a heart for communications in the United Methodist Church. How do you feel?"  We became fast friends and shared stories. 

I learned so much and enjoyed my time away so much.  I am so grateful for the experience.  I am also extremely grateful to Adam, who took care of the kids without me for three days, and our friend Ashley who picked them up from school every day.

Special thanks to Adam who even had to take care of a sick kid and clean up illness.

Here's a photo of me and my new friend Neeley.  I'm so happy that my eyes aren't even open!

I am an avocado

I am an avocado and my life is an avocado slicer.
Depending on the day or season, my skin is either thick or thin.  I'm either bruised or healthy green on the inside.
By nature, I am a giver.  With two jobs and commitments all across North Texas, I often feel like a sliced avocado.

A slice of me volunteers at the kids' school.  A slice of me goes to church to work.  A slice of me goes to church to worship. A slice of me takes care of my grandfather. A slice of me serves on committees at church and at school.  A slice of me socializes. A slice of me tutors children at a different elementary school. A slice of me leads a Bible study. Another slice cooks, cleans, and folds laundry.

I have other slices that go to different places, but my pit remains intact.  My core and my faith are always there, no matter how many slices of myself I hand out.  The trick is to teach myself to transfer the pulp from the other half of the avocado to support my core.  I have to learn to refill myself after handing out all the slices.  Otherwise, I just become a bowl of guacamole.

The best frozen pizza ever

Yesterday I went to my grandfather's apartment to visit him and complete any Sarah/honey-do tasks he had for me.  This was the first time I've been without the children, and the atmosphere had changed because of it.  I was more relaxed, not worried about the kids being too loud or disturbing him and not worrying about needing to be a referee if the situation arose.
The first honey do I did was check his medicines to see what refills he needed.  Then I cleaned up his mail-order papers.  He had several empty envelopes around the house, so without speaking, I picked them up and threw them away.  One of them had some wetness on it, and I commented.  My grandfather was icing a swollen knee, so I understood the wetness to be from his ice pack.  I threw away the envelope anyway.  Five minutes later, when I was about to step out to go buy some tea, he asked where the wet envelope went to.  "It was on the floor," I explained, "So I went ahead and picked it up for you and put it in the trash."  Big mistake.  The next minute I was in the trashcan, digging it out.  Luckily the trash was clean.  I put that envelope right back on the ground following directions: "A little to the left.  Now up some.  Now flatten it out."  He was using the envelope to protect his carpet from the sweating ice pack.  I had forgotten that every single item, even something I consider trash, has importance in his world.
After I returned with his tea: "Make sure it's Nestea, because that bottle fits in my hand easier." he told me he had a pizza in the freezer that I could heat up for our lunch.  When the kids are around, I just drive through for all of us and the kids and I have a picnic on the floor while he eats in the tiny kitchen.  Today he wanted pizza, and I was happy to oblige.  It was a freezer-burned Totino's, which is by nature, absolutely disgusting, but who cares?  An old man wants a pizza, I'm happy to cook it for him.
I tried to preheat his oven, but I couldn't.  I didn't know if there was a safety button or latch that I needed to use.  He lives in a retirement apartment, so I thought it might be likely that the oven had some precautionary button on it.  All I could do was hit preheat and then the oven started beeping loudly and incessantly.  I got that to stop and tried again and again to no avail.  I told my grandfather, "You want pizza, so we're going to have pizza."  I went to the front desk and asked if they could tell me how to preheat the oven.  The ladies at the front desk assured me that they didn't know how to preheat the oven in their own kitchen, much less the one in my granddad's apartment.  They called the head of maintenance to come down.
Juan met me at the apartment.  I explained my problem and he looked at me confused.  He said, "All you do is press this and this" and then he started the incessant beeping.  The next thing I knew he called backup, was pulling the stove out of the wall, resetting it and eventually replacing the electronic panel.  After all that, we were able to preheat the oven.
The oven preheated and the pizza in, the next thing was to set the table.  My granddad has a tiny kitchen and no extra chairs.  He eats on a TV tray with wheels, but he arranged his walker and the TV tray so I could join him.  For my chair, I backed his electric scooter into the kitchen and swiveled the chair backward.  This took about 10 minutes to set up.
A broiler pan as an improvised pizza pan, a knife as an improvised pizza cutter, both of us hunched over a TV tray and some soggy, freezer burned pizza.  It was the best frozen pizza I've ever had.

Putting Facebook in the Corner

My normal routine is to get up at 5 and suck down coffee while reading email, Facebook, and my Bible study lesson, and then write or workout, depending on the day.  Then all the family wakes up and we all start rolling together.
On Tuesday this week, I was checking Facebook and before I knew it, I was feeling grouchy and realized I had just spent 40 precious minutes reading superficial accounts of my friends' lives.  I counted backward and tried to remember a time when Facebook had brightened my day, and it had been a long while.  It was time for a change.
I do see the value of Facebook.  I can keep all my friends and family near and far updated on our lives.  I can offer some love through electronic means to a friend who is depressed or overwhelmed.  I do use it for that, but when I allow anything to take up nearly half of my alone time and I don't feel better afterward?  It's time for a change.
I decided on a Facebook fast. So the rest of the day Tuesday and carrying on to Friday morning, I stayed off of Facebook. I had to have a few exceptions. Social media is my job at work, so without looking at the news feed, I updated our status.  I received an alert that my sister wrote me and I logged on to reply. A friend of mine invited me to her book club, and I needed to RSVP.  Other than that, I stayed away.
This morning I broke the fast and logged on. I decided that since I hadn't been on in several days, I would allot 15 minutes to reading the news feed.  After 7 minutes, I was done.  Of course there were updates that I missed, but I'm okay with that.
Adam and I choose not to have smart phones, so the allure of checking Facebook at a restaurant when real people surround you is lost to us.  However, we have WiFi in the house, and lately, I've found myself updating my news feed while I was cooking dinner.
I categorize and prioritize my activities into levels of life-giving and life-draining.  Making dinner in my beautiful kitchen with music playing and kids dancing is life-giving.  Stopping this to check Facebook is life-draining.
This week, I put social media back in the corner where it belongs.  It has some value in my life.  It has some life-giving aspects, but after stepping away, I realized that I had inflated the value.  Now it's back to a small corner of my life and I can spend more time on activities that fill me up rather than drain me.  I think I'll go read a book.

My Magnolia Tree and Faith

I have always loved Magnolia trees.  I love their scent, I love their flowers, I love the strength of their leaves. 

 To me, a tree is always a metaphor.  A tree with a strong trunk represents inner strength.  A tree that has survived a drought represents perseverance.  A tree's roots grow deeper as the tree ages, similar to my own discovery of my spiritual depths.  Depending on the season of my life, I feel like a sapling or a California Redwood.  I can be blown over with a gust of wind or withstand anything thrown at me.

Last Thanksgiving we went to Adam's godparents' house in Texarkana to celebrate the holiday.  Kaa and I spent an afternoon gathering pine cones and magnolia cones to create a beautiful wreath for our front door.  The kids and I asked what would happen if we planted one of the magnolia cones.  She supposed it would grow into a tree but wasn't sure.  As an experiment, I saved one and planted it in my kitchen window.  

Last December the pot was just a pot of dirt with something inside.  I faithfully watered it and watched little green sprouts come up.  I was ecstatic until I realized that the little green sprouts were actually weeds.  I yanked the weeds up but held onto my faith and waited for a tree.

Close to a year later, we have one.  It's a tiny, three inch tall magnolia tree.  It reminds me of faith every time I look at it.  Right now it's still small, but it took 10 months to get this big.  I can't wait to watch it grow and develop into a tree with deep roots and beauty.  Faith or trees don't grow overnight, but it seems that the longer it takes, the more beautiful it is.

Our School Year Thus Far

I have always been a proponent of moving New Year's Eve to the week before school starts.  I haven't contacted the international calendaring committee but to me, this just makes sense.  January is in the middle of the school year.  That's not the time to start anything. The time to start routines and healthy habits is the first day of school.
It's the second week of school and we're settling into our new routines.  Paul has now realized that kindergarten won't be all fun and games and he'll actually have to do some level of work.  He's disappointed in this and yesterday started sniffling as we approached the school.  He told me he didn't want to go to school because he didn't feel like working that day.  He would rather go home and play all day.  I assured him I would also be working and to let me know if his teacher bit him.  "You tell me if Mrs. Alvarez bites you and I'll come up and take care of it."  That made him giggle and away he went.
Claire's enjoying second grade.  She has a good teacher as well and is having fun.  Her biggest disappointment so far is that she had to write so much she got writer's cramp.
Each day the kids come home with competing voices, trying to tell me details of the day.  Claire's daily report involves EVERY detail of her classroom life from the fullness of the soap dispenser in the bathroom to the reason so and so got into trouble.  Paul's reports cover his perceived injustices (he still didn't get a particular sticker he hoped for) and quotes from his teachers.
When Claire entered Kindergarten, I started the practice of sitting down with her daily to talk about all the events in her day.  I wrote up her answers in a blog.  Not only is it funny and honest, but it helped develop our relationship and teach her to communicate better.  She started out the same as Paul, not sure which details should be conveyed and spewing out a jumble of randomness.  Now she can have a more coherent conversation and with open communication lines, I am able to hear about everything that goes on in the classroom, good and bad.  This is reassuring to me because the complaints I'm hearing are minor.  Without being in her classroom I know her teacher is competent and that she has creative a positive learning environment.
Paul is still working on learning to tell me about his day.  I am writing down all he says as well but it's often one or two word answers.  He has the same kindergarten teacher as Claire did and our family loves her so much we consider her family.  Last year she asked us for a tree stump and so Adam got her one, putting the giant 100+ lb trunk on a two wheeler and rolling it a mile to our house.  We love Mrs. Alvarez.  Her mixture of left and right-brained activities help make her learning environment productive for all children.
Adam is glad for us to be back in school because it helps him get up earlier and get off to work easier.  All four of us walk to school together each morning.  Then he leaves for work and I have a miniature break where I can take a breath before I head into the office or school.
Typical of me, I set my self-expectations too high.  For my new year resolution, I planned to write on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and workout on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday.  I still think it's a good plan, but I also am so thankful that I can give myself some grace when I don't live up to my own expectations.
Last week I had Friday off and was getting bogged down with all the chores I had assigned myself.  Instead, I threw caution to the wind, had coffee with a friend, went to lunch with Adam, and spent some quiet time by myself.  I bought groceries later and cleaned house the next day.  This was much more fulfilling than checking off my to-do list.
So we're all learning. We've all got our new year's resolutions and we've all got hope that we can carry them through to June.  In any case, we all have a sense of humor.

Mapping Unchartered Territory

With school back in swing, I have a small sense of being adrift in unfamiliar waters. Getting up early and getting the kids to school is something I know how to do and am good at.  But that time between dropping them off and picking them up is unchartered territory for me.

Of course I still have two jobs; split between working at church and tutoring, and once I show up for one I know what to do.  It's the little details that have me confused.

How do I get to work?

For the past several years my school routine has been drop off at school followed by the trek down Hulen to get to church to take Paul to preschool.  Monday I didn't need to go to church but found myself driving there anyway.  I can take a more direct route to school but was mixed up on how to get there.

When I was a teacher, I learned that voicing your thoughts ( called thinking aloud) was a strategy that helped children develop their own thought processes.  I am so used to "thinking aloud" that I have forgotten how to "think silently."  I find myself in the car saying, "I'm going to need to turn right when I see the green sign."  On Monday I took a wrong turn and felt like cursing but kept it under my breath.  The empty car just might get offended.

Yesterday as I finished my church work I kept waiting for the little knock on my office door.  Paul didn't come to tell me preschool was over for the day and I kept on working.  I discussed to an empty car whether or not I would have time to buy a frozen pizza at Kroger before school let out.  I did and the car agreed.

We are all so happy to have school back in session.  Both children adore their teachers and Adam and I are thrilled.  Adam's routine remains the same.  Mama, however, has to relearn how to think and arrive at locations without children.

Back to School!

Yesterday Paul kept asking me, "Why do you keep hugging me and saying, 'My little kindergartener'?" I told him, "Not too long ago you were a baby wearing diapers and learning to crawl.  Now you can read books and you're going to kindergarten!"  He replied, "I can crawl now, too."

Today was the first day of school for Claire and Paul and it's 2 p.m. and I'm sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee and eating Trader Joe's trail mix.  It has been a good day.

We all mostly got up on time.  The kids excitedly put on their new clothes.  I took them to pick out school shoes a month ago and we've been  holding them for the first day of school.  Paul strapped his on and announced they were too small.  His feet grew a size in a month!  Thankfully the shoes haven't been worn and I have my receipt.  We'll be stopping by Academy today to get some new ones.

Both kids entered their classroom without fanfare and we took photos and left with no tears from anyone.  I had anticipated that I might cry, but I was so excited I was able to hold it together.  I can't wait for 3:00 to see how the day went!

Claire was ready to pose, but Paul had to stop and inspect a bug before he got in position.

In front of the Little Free Library.

Loaded town with supplies and teacher gifts, we headed to school.

Adam and the kids in front of the school.

Evil kids or silly ones; you decide.

Claire got to sit by one of her best friends, all the way since Kindergarten!

Paul at his table.

Mia, on the left, is our neighbor from down the street.  Now she's Paul's neighbor in class, too!

Adam offering last words of advice before Paul gets to class.