The first 35 years of my life

I turn 35 tomorrow.  Here's a short autobiography of my life so far:

I was born at Harris Hospital downtown.  Some could say I was born a Methodist.

My parents went to the Birdville ISD school board and petitioned for me to attend the elementary school of their choice because the one in our area was across from the high school.  As I remember, they said they were afraid high school kids would try to sell me drugs.  I attended Snow Heights Elementary.  In my day, Snow wasn't just the name of the school.  It was an all-white campus.

I received something of a culture shock in middle school when I switched to attend the correct school.  Haltom Middle was a cultural melting pot, and I loved that about it.  I didn't know anyone at first, though, so for my first year, my best friend was a book at lunch.

I caught my social stride at Haltom High where I was friends with everyone and usually succeeded in saying a personalized greeting to every single person that crossed my path.

During my senior year in high school, my father's job moved him to Austin.  I stayed in Fort Worth with my mother so I could graduate from Haltom and she could sell the house.

I went to Tarrant County Junior College and made great friends with a girl who was dating my future husband.  He was extremely skinny and I remember wondering about his nutrition.  We all hung out together for a bit.  I worked for the school newspaper and in my spare time, wrote features for two local branches of the Star-Telegram.

During college, I roomed with my uncle.  He's eight years older than me and a world record holder in wheelchair races.  He was an aerospace engineer starting his own business.  I pitched in on rent and made up the extra with cooking and cleaning.  He also was in a christian rock band and I was a huge groupie.  We had a lot of fun.

At the University of Texas at Arlington I wrote for the school newspaper and magazine, eventually becoming the last editor of the Tempo.  Adam and I became best friends and eventually we shared enough beers and laughs that we found out we were in love.

The week after college graduation, Adam and I married and moved to Fort Worth.  We visited many churches of various denominations but finally ended up in a pretty building on Camp Bowie.  We still attend Arlington Heights UMC.  For me at least, joining the Methodist church was like finding my home.  Although I was raised, saved, and baptized in a Southern Baptist Church, the more I learned about the Methodist doctrines and beliefs, I realized I had been a closet Methodist my whole life.

My final years at UTA, I worked at Half Price Books, but when we moved to Fort Worth, I decided to use my college degree and become a teacher.  The school I taught at was the cultural opposite of the one I attended growing up.  I learned just as much as my students when I worked there.

In 2005 I got my wisdom teeth removed, we had just bought a house, and I decided, while on painkillers, that it was time for us to start having children around the house.  I didn't change my mind when my gums healed.  Claire was born the next year.

Adam and I attended Love and Logic parenting classes, which set us on a parenting style we stick to together.  I continued to teach for a couple of years.

Paul William Boyette was born and I quit teaching for pay to be a stay-at-home mom and teach my own children.

The year before Claire started kindergarten, I began working at church.  Paul still attends preschool there.  Now I rotate between church work and tutoring elementary students on reading.

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I am mother to two kids, two dogs, two fish, and one hamster.  I am wife of Adam.  I am a Jesus lover, a writer, a church staffer, a teacher, a cook, a voracious reader, and a person constantly striving to improve myself.  I love to help others, give hugs, and talk to friends.  My house is a mess but my kids are smart.  I am part of a happy family.  I am content.

Paul and I at the Mother-Son Dance in Grapevine this year.

2013--The Year in Review: January

January wrapped up last week and I thought I'd inventory some thoughts that have been rattling through my head:

1.  Squirrels make nests.
I learned this just last week by observation and then asked friends for more information.  Apparently if a nest is at the very top of a tree and it's messy instead of a nice, structured pile of branches, it's probably a squirrel's nest.

2.  I don't have to "get it together" before I show up.
I got this from Anne Lamott's book, Help, Thanks, Wow, which I highly recommend.  I also read it in two hours, so I figure most people can read it in a day.  She talked about how many people think they have to get their life in order before they start a regular prayer life, but how a regular prayer life actually helps people get their life in order.  I've found this concept true in many parts of my life.  If I can just show up, I often can "get it together" there.  (My eventual hope for this blog is that it will be a place where I "get it together" so I can publish something sometime.)

3.  My body doesn't end at my neck.
I often focus on nurturing my brain with books or my spirit with prayer and Bible study.  I'm not so good on nurturing my body with anything other than delicious food.  Over the Christmas holidays, I threw out my back.  This was fixed when a friend pushed certain muscle points on my stomach to put my back muscles in place.  Honestly, it had been a long time since I had felt muscles in my stomach.  They don't go away just because I don't think about them!  So this led me to realize that I should be more intentional about taking care of my physical body.  I've been doing yoga with my friendly instructor on the Wii.

4.  I am not a garbage disposal.
If others in the house don't enjoy the meal I cook for them, I don't have to eat it all.  If others sit and talk to me and tell me their problems, I don't have to take them on as my own.  I don't have to keep every scrap of paper that might be informative some day or every invention of recyclables the kids give me.

5.  Sometimes my job is to listen.
Our friend, Jason Valendy recently wrote a post about monologues in church (Read it here.)  This caused me to do some thinking and Adam and I have been having discussions on monologues verses dialogues.  At a fast-increasing rate, I am caught in conversations that become just my job to listen.  If you know me, I do often talk a lot, so I when I'm in conversation with someone, I try to continue the dialogue, add comments, whatever.  But lately, and at random places and times, I have become aware of the need to just zip my lips and listen.  At the park the other day, a man was commenting on my dog.  I wanted to tell him the story of Sugar Dot, but it turned out that he needed to talk to someone.  He ended up speaking to me for fifteen minutes about  his dog that had died, and that led to a conversation about broken marriages, custody battles, and moving back home.  When I had to leave, I felt bad for him.  He didn't even know my name, and I didn't get a chance to tell him.  He needed someone to talk to.

In a world where people are increasing their relationships via social media and decreasing their face to face contact, I am consciously trying to pay attention and listen where needed.  I am trying to recognize the places where dialogue isn't needed, but an audience for a monologue is.