When This is Over

Imagine...the first concerts, the first stage performances, the first time voices are raised together in song, restaurants are filled to the brim on a Saturday night, churches have full congregations, children’s recitals return, arenas are filled with sports fans, people line up to attend the premiere of a new movie, parties are held, families embrace after months, even years apart, airports teem with people who are eagerly anticipating discovering a new place...

I believe the performances will be more emotional, the harmonies will be sweeter, the reverberation of the bass lines will burn sweetly in our souls, the food will taste better, the atmosphere more deeply enjoyed, the worship and praise will be richer, parents and grandparents will watch more intently, crowds will cheer a little louder for the home team, the popcorn will smell better, the celebrations will be more elaborate, more hospitality will be extended, the nights will be later, the hugs will be sweeter and longer and tighter, the experiences will be treasured deeper, the anticipation greater...

Until then, we wait in joyful, labored, eager, anxious, fearful hope. We wait for these brighter days, knowing the pain, sorrow, and longing we’ve felt up to now as we’ve gone through this storm together. 

We hold onto the hope that better days are to come!

Apple Juice, Toddlers, and God

One of Katherine’s true loves in life is apple juice. She has loved it since the first day she ever drank it. We initially gave it to her after weaning off formula to whole milk to help with her digestion and some minor stomach problems. 

She drank lots of juice for a few weeks because the transition from formula was a trying one at times. I won’t go into detail, but will suffice to say that we finally made it to the other side. After surviving that momentary trial, we have a new battle.

Katherine still loves apple juice. But we know she can’t exclusively drink that. She needs milk and some water so that she stays hydrated and gets the necessary nutrition her growing body needs. So we fight the good fight daily, not giving her too much juice. 

When she finally gets her cup of juice, she happily slurps it down... and requests a new cup almost as soon as she received the first one. When she gets milk or water, she’ll tentatively sip it. Sometimes she’ll throw it down in frustration, while other times she’ll take big gulps just to let it dribble down her face and outfit. (Personally, I think she tries that to get rid of her drinks so she can cycle back to juice quicker...) Then there are times she just rejects it outright. She’ll begrudgingly take her cup, but won’t drink it, even though she’s thirsty and needs it. 

Practically, I know this is all just part of the journey of parenting a toddler. I know that ultimately, it’s my and Thomas’ responsibility to give her what she needs and not cater to her every whim. I take it in stride and put her in dry clothes when she decides to dribble, and we start over. We have many similar situations, like cleaning up messes, eating, toys, and so many other parts of life with a toddler. 

But thinking about this situation made me think of something else. We, as humans, are often like toddlers with God. 

Ultimately God gives us what we need for that particular moment. Sometimes what we need aligns with the desires of our heart, but other times it doesn’t. When things are as we want it, we’re overwhelmingly excited and happy. Conversely, we get upset and can throw our unique style of a fit when we don’t get what we want. 

God, being a loving parent, doesn’t merely cater to our fleeting whims that are ultimately linked to what makes us comfortable and happy. He also continues to dutifully give us our versions of milk and water when we REALLY want our version of apple juice. This is what generally happens when we feel like God doesn’t answer our prayers. We ask, plead,  and beg for x, y, and z. We tell God all about why we need it and how happy it’d make us. We are even willing to make a scene and storm off when he says no, or more typically, when he says NOT YET. It’s not that he’s being a jerk and wanting to make us mad, but he knows that our desires aren’t necessarily what’s best for us in the grand scheme of things. When the time is right he’ll happily give us the desires of our heart. He wants us to be happy, but he also wants to make sure we have what we need. 

And sometimes, your child begs and begs and begs for juice, and due to their unrelenting requests, they get juice sooner. Every once in a while God will do that too, especially if it's a dire situation!

Thankfully, like most parents of toddlers, even though we get exasperated, annoyed, and want to throw our hands up and walk, nay, SPRINT away, while screaming various profanities, we don’t abandon our children (or do most of those things). God doesn’t, either. 

And, like most parents, you smile seeing your child happily enjoying their juice and living their best life. And hearing their cute toddler voice say “thank you” melts your heart. I like to think God also does that when he finally says YES to our prayers!

On Finding and Maintaining My Identity

(Did you miss me? Here's a little something I wrote back in March that got lost in the notes on my phone...obviously, some things have changed since then, but enjoy! I'll try to write something new soon!)

Growing up I always heard moms, especially new moms, lament the fact that they felt lost and had no identity, especially after they had their baby. It always troubled me to think about how that could actually happen. I think I also had some judgmental thoughts about why moms HAD to be important when there was a tiny human who needed to be doted on and fussed over.

Fast forward to now, and I get why moms said that. Yes, my baby is cute. Yes, you can hold my baby (as long as you washed your hands and aren’t sick). Yes, she’s sleeping as well as any child their age would. Yes, she goes to daycare. Yes, we like our daycare. No, we're not quite ready for another child just yet...on and on with the answers to the only questions people seem to know how to ask me anymore.

Don’t get me wrong, Katherine is my favorite person in the whole world. She loves me unconditionally. She is the only person I know who always laughs at my dumb jokes! She’s just great! But my life doesn’t and shouldn’t completely revolve around her. 

So this got me thinking about a few things: What do I want my identity to be? What questions do I wish people asked me? What do I wish people knew about me?

I wish people asked me about my job. I know. How dare I leave my baby in the hands of another person 5 days a week so I can be selfish and help pay our mortgage. I’m such a bad human being. (PS: No one ever insinuates the same thing about my husband. Interesting...) 

I wish people asked me about my students. Did you know that a year ago, they were dealing with a math teacher who had created such a toxic learning atmosphere that they lost all confidence in their ability to successfully learn math? This year I was tasked with teaching them. Although their old teacher didn’t set the bar very high, I had to win back their confidence. I had to prove to them that they were perfectly capable of handling anything I threw their way, especially right before they go to college. Talk about a stressful few months. But you know what? Those same kids who freaked out about our first test back in September are now (more or less) thriving while doing online classes. Because they trust me and know that they’re capable of handling challenges.

I wish people asked me to tell them more about my students. I would happily tell them about how awesome they are. How talented they are. How creative they are. How funny and insightful they are. How, despite their learning differences, they’re thriving academically.

I wish people asked me about learning differences. I’ve come to learn a lot about them. I'd begin by explaining that a learning difference doesn't just mean that a student is on the Autism spectrum. I’ve learned a lot about how education needs to be holistic. I can teach all the differential calculus I want, but if a kid is depressed, anxious, or feeling like a social outcast, what good is the knowledge if they don’t feel like they matter or have any purpose in life?

In the same vein, I wish people asked me how I’ve been feeling. And actually mean it. To be honest, I’ve been battling PPD in waves. I’ve always had depressive tendencies, but I was able to manage it pretty well with a combination of exercise, spirituality, and a mostly healthy diet. But no one could adequately prepare me for the battle that comes when you’re physically unable to exercise and you’re too physically or mentally exhausted to pray or eat well. No one could prepare me for battling against hormones that do literally whatever they want WHENEVER they want. September-December 2019 were some of the worst months of my life. It definitely peaked around the middle of October. By Christmas, I started feeling mostly human again. 

When you go through an experience that drags you through hell while having to be a functional adult who has a baby to care for and a job to attend (that severely limits your ability to take PTO), it changes you. One unexpected blessing was my students. Many people helped get me through this time (Thomas, my mom, my sisters, a few close friends, and my doctor), but a few students really helped me push my way out of the fog. How, you ask? By telling me about their depression, their anxiety, their feelings of hopelessness. They reached out to me, in confidence, telling me how tough things were for them. It opened up a dialogue about how I understood. How I really, truly understood because I was walking through the same fiery pit that they were also muddling through. I was able to tell them how I have managed, what healthy coping mechanisms I’ve found, and honestly, how other people can suck and make things more difficult even if that isn’t their intent. By being able to openly talk about my mental wellbeing with the young people who I care about so much, it gave my bad times deeper meaning. I was able to be an advocate. I was able to show them what it looks like to be struggling, but also to be functional. They felt seen, and they knew they had someone who they could talk to. Or even just someone who would understand when they said that it wasn’t a good day; I could read between the lines and know that they were struggling and either needed space or to talk one-on-one.

I wish people would ask me what upsets me. I would likely say it is the complete sense of unrest that has taken hold. The continuous battle of those in power thinking they know what marginalized communities need most. (They don’t, btw.) I ache seeing the bigotry that still exists. People of privilege can say what they will, but it’s still there. It has morphed into a more stealthy approach, like decisions of where you live, where you do business, where you send your kids to school, how you speak to people of different ethnicities, who you hire, on and on. As humans, we all possess natural biases whether we want to or not. However, especially people of privilege, (Aka straight white people who are above the poverty line...aka most of our country) we need to do better! Educate yourself. The best education you can gain is to listen to anyone who looks, speaks, loves, worships differently than you do. Listen to their problems. Don’t try to solve them through your lens of privilege. Learn about their culture...anything that’s important to them. Ask the tough questions, but be aware that sometimes those questions come with difficult truths. Most of all, understand the privilege you possess and use it to help whenever and however you can. 

I wish people would ask what’s it’s like to live away from my family. I’d tell them it sucks. It’s awful, and I hate it. But I’d also tell them I’m proud of the life we’ve built here. I’d also tell them that having infinite means of contact via technology doesn’t take the place of physically being with them. Especially now that I have a baby... if anything, it’s worse now. I’d tell them how out of place I feel most of the time. I’d tell them how people down here really don’t understand the art of hospitality like people did back home. I’d tell them that there’s only a select few people down here who feel like home to me. I’d also tell them I’m happy to have the new opportunities that I may not have ever have otherwise. 

I wish people would ask me about actually being a mom...not just my child. I’d tell them how awesome it is to walk into your child’s bedroom and see them waiting for you in their crib. The way their eyes light up, and they smile a smile so big it makes you forget about all the bad things going on. When you see them reach a new milestone for the first time...that’s pure magic. The way that they cling to you when others come around...it can be momentarily frustrating, but actually it's okay because you really didn’t want to share them in the first place. I’d tell them it’s okay to need a break for yourself...even if you were home all day...ESPECIALLY if you’re home with them all day. It’s okay to relegate parenting duties to your partner...you aren't the only one, in case you forgot. Don’t make yourself a martyr. At the end, there is no trophy you’re going to win for only serving your child organic, non-GMO food served on a Pinterest-style charcuterie board while devoting your every waking thought to them. There is no parenting police who’s going to ticket you if your child refuses to eat anything besides Goldfish and yogurt. Don’t expect perfection from yourself...extend the same grace to yourself that you would to your best friend. As long as you do right by yourself and your child, you’re doing fine. The thing that seems the most intuitive to do is probably the best thing for your family. But it’s also okay to not know what to do. It’s okay to guess. It’s okay to frantically Google search, though I don’t advise it after 9 PM... that usually leads to decision fatigue, questions that cannot be answered at that hour of the day, and mommy blog-induced anxiety that no one needs in their life. It’s even okay to call your own mom, if you can. In fact, she’d love to be able to help, even if you just word vomit and she just tells you what your options are. Sisters or friends who are also moms are another safe bet. Chances are at least one of them is awake with a restless child and would love to know they aren’t alone in that venture. Which leads me to restate the fact that you aren’t alone in anything you face! Don’t be a hero. You don’t have to handle everything all by yourself. Even on the tough days, being a mom is still pretty awesome. 

I wish people would ask me about being a wife. I’d tell them about how being with the right person will single-handedly either make or break your ability to navigate anything that’ll ever happen to you. If you choose correctly, it’ll make your life infinitely easier. I’d tell them that it’s important to know that you’re both human and will make mistakes. I’d tell them how important it is to choose your words wisely when upset. 

Looking at this, I now realize that all of these things I've babbled on about are the things that matter most to me at the moment. This is a glimpse of who I have become and what my identity is. I'm not the same person I was years ago, which is a good thing, in my opinion. I've evolved and grown and stretched far beyond how I've ever expected to. I know I'll continue to evolve and grow and stretch more as I experience more life. Yes, I'm a mom. That will always be one of my most important roles, but I can't allow myself to let that be the only thing that I am. My family needs me to be all of these things, because that's how I can be at my best. When I'm at my best for myself, I can be the best wife, mom, daughter, sister, aunt, friend, etc. to everyone else. 

Thoughts on a Quarantined Monday

Doing a random "brain purge" of all the thoughts bouncing around my overly-caffeinated mind...

Why in God's name is everyone hoarding basic household goods? This is like the 2017 gas crisis all over again, but it's everyone across the country. I'm holding out hope that a day will come in the near future that people will reach a limiting factor in terms of their ability to "stock up" and I'll be able to buy the basic goods (like flour and sugar) that have legitimately been on my grocery list since this whole ordeal broke out. Excessive buying from consumers is creating horrible supply chain issues that retailers are struggling to keep up with. Stop it! Take only what you need and be mindful of those relying on government subsidies to keep their family fed and nourished! I also hope that the supply hoarding doesn't lead to tons of needless waste in the coming months. If you legitimately have more than you need, please please please share the wealth with a friend, neighbor, or a food bank!

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Growing up on a farm has its perks in times like this. Only going shopping for absolute needs once every 1-2 weeks was absolutely normal and expected. We kept a good stock of shelf-stable and frozen goods that sustained us in the event that going to town wasn't an option. It required lots of creativity and planning, but we never went without. We had to be mindful of our resources and try to avoid being wasteful with anything we bought since we didn't know the next time we'd go shopping. We weren't always able to have lots of fresh goods, but we always had a rounded meal. We made sacrifices, like getting creative with freezing things or "repurposing", especially starches. Sandwich bread could serve as a makeshift hamburger bun, tortillas could make makeshift sandwiches. Any sort of pasta was used as needed. Buying in bulk and freezing was a way of life, not only to save money, but to save time. Even if something sounded good, we had to use what we had to make a meal. Takeout or delivery services weren't readily available, either. I'm happy all of these ideals have stuck with me as I moved to Dallas. I'm even happier that Thomas agrees and has embraced them as his own. 

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Yard work, as it turns out, is a phenomenal stress reliever. I've found that few women in my neck of the woods contribute to yard work or anything outside, for that matter. Most people tend to outsource those tasks to outside companies. I have found that I feel the happiest and most productive when I have outdoor work to do. It reminds me of simpler times back on the farm when I was tasked with completing more complex and strenuous jobs. It also makes me feel accomplished to know that I'm willing to do the work that few women are. I have hope that Katherine will learn to appreciate this as she gets older. I also realized why my dad spent so much time tinkering around in the shed. Oftentimes he had lots of tasks to do to keep the farm afloat and on schedule, but I think it also did him good to combat all the things bouncing around in his mind. Sitting idly doesn't come natural to me, just ask Thomas. I always have to have a project to devote my excess energy to or else I'll feel like the world is ending! 

When I was younger, my dad and I often butted heads. I always assumed that we were just too different in terms of personality and that's why it was tough to work alongside him. As I grow older, I realize it's just the opposite. When I am completing any sort of manual labor, I find myself defaulting to the things Dad did. The Bernard Hladik method of work mostly consisted of working efficiently and quickly to accomplish the task at hand. Minimal breaks were allowed, and only for the restroom or sips of water from a big jug. He would work until he was done with something, that way he could fully revel and sit in the accomplishment of being done and not having much more to hang over your head. Or he wouldn't want to have to get re-situated with supplies on another day. When tackling projects with Thomas, this becomes obvious to me. His family was more strategic in taking breaks, so to me it seems like we're wasting time. He thinks I'm a madwoman, I'm sure!

This manifested itself when we decided to randomly redo our backyard this weekend. The project entailed digging up a section of standard-sized bricks and some 12x12 concrete blocks, all to be replaced with grass plugs. In a surprising turn of events, I did all the brick/block removal, and Thomas did all the grass planting. It worked pretty well, all things considered. I think Thomas was mildly shocked by how quickly I hefted all of the heavy stones into stacks strategically placed across the yard. It was no more challenging than single-handedly bucketing up a pickup bed full of cattle feed or helping build fences. I genuinely hope I can raise Katherine (and any future children of ours) to be the kind of girl who won't shy away from the honest work and satisfaction of manual labor. I know my father-in-law is always astounded and impressed by my willingness to tackle these sorts of jobs. I'll spare you my spiel on how there's no such thing as "men's work" and "women's work", but only work to be done by everyone who is able-bodied enough to do it. 

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Going for walks is also good at relieving stress. Movement = medicine for most of the issues that plague my anxious mind. Having a great playlist seems to help, too. Old school R&B has been my preference as of late. Lots of great artistry as well as emotion went into those timeless classics. 

 

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I hope you're staying well, wherever you are right now. I'm now in week 2 of an unknown amount of time of online schooling my students. So far so good, but we also have only being completing a basic project. Teaching new material will come next Monday. I'm extending lots of grace to my students and allowing them to "feel all the emotions" as so many people have aptly put it. I teach almost exclusively seniors who are mourning the loss of so many things they've looked forward to for their whole lives. So far graduation is still scheduled, but I sit in fear of what may have to happen. I've also been doing what I can to advocate for them and their desires while being mindful of what's necessary right now. Being a young teacher is helpful in terms of having empathy for my students. After all, it wasn't that long ago when I was in their shoes. The challenging thing, I've found, is adequately communicating all of their needs/feelings to the much older powers that be without sounding like a whiny millennial, as I'm sure those people often see me. Gen Z gets a bad rep so often, but people overlook all the good they're trying to accomplish. They have grown up in a world so decidedly marked with constant upheaval and unrest. I firmly believe they will work to make the world a kinder, gentler, more equitable place to live. We have to have hope in the youth or else they won't want to rise up and take the place of so many who've come before them. I'm glad I held out and kept teaching thus far. I wouldn't trade my students for anything! I'm even more glad that I found a school that aligns so well with my teaching philosophy. That truly makes the difference. Though it comes with its own set of problems, I wouldn't trade them for anything. 

COVID Craziness

It's been a while, I know. I have lots of good things to tell you about my sweet baby and other parts of my life, but right now I have other things on my mind. Other bloggers are using this time to write about their world in the midst of the COVID crisis. I guess I'll follow suit.

There have been many times in the last few years that I've realized I'm not in Oklahoma anymore. The first time was during the "gas crisis" following Hurricane Harvey. I realized that I was surrounded by a huge crowd of people and that major world events would hit harder here. I thought everyone was nuts because they lost their minds buying all the gas. Then a week or two later, it passed.

A couple of months ago, information came out about COVID, and I honestly blew it off. I really didn't seem too worried for an embarrassing amount of time. Then I was forced into dealing with it. It began for me with one of our admins sending an email that seemed somewhat dramatic, asking us teachers to have 2 weeks' worth of emergency lesson plans submitted to the office before 3/13/2020, AKA the day we left for spring break. I was a little annoyed with the request when it came out. I haven't had to submit formal lesson plans in years, but suddenly we have to do this. Getting this request a couple of weeks before the end of a grading period and right before the first major break we've had in months felt really inconvenient. We weren't going to close anyway, so what was the point?

Nonetheless, my crippling OCD went into overdrive, and I crafted a project that'd: A) be easy to use at any arbitrary point in time, B) be easy for me to explain via technology/email, C) not be a huge imposition on my students' time, because I'm a realist like that, and D) wasn't new material, because I knew my students would melt into heaps of anxious goo if I even tried to do that. It took a while and lots of creations from the Google Suite of products, but I successfully turned my plans in a week early. I turned them in, almost feeling stupid for even having done them. I felt like I spent a few hours of my life creating this intricate project for no reason. But I did it anyway, because I was asked to do so, and I did a damn good job, too, if you ask me.

On I went with my week. My students kept asking me about if we'd ever have to close the school for concerns of coronavirus. Or they made jokes about it. Or showed me memes. (The latter two were the most common, by the way. Young adults tend to use humor as a coping mechanism.) I blew it off, not wanting to feed into their anxiety. I told them I had "a plan", but said I doubted we'd even need it. Done. End of story. That was Monday, 3/9/2020. The next day, our principal sent an email saying that our IT department would be conducting trainings on video conferencing systems and online classrooms, alternating on the half hour, all day for the entirety of the week. She said it was highly recommended, but not mandatory we attend one or both trainings. Eh, we wouldn't need it anyway, so why bother?

The next day, I decided I had time, so I better make use of the trainings, "just in case". I scheduled my trainings. An hour later, our principal sent an email to me and everyone else who hadn't yet attended saying it was MANDATORY. Well...it just got real. Glad I was ahead of the curve! The trainings were simple and worth my time. I decided I'd show my students how to use both the next day, just because. The students picked it up easily, because kids just get technology. An hour or two into the day, we received an email stating that all students must stay in their midday homeroom to learn the program quickly. My fears elevated as the day went on. I did my best to show my students how to handle the situation. I told them we were being "proactive, not reactive". They liked that a lot, so it became our mantra. At the end of Thursday, we received notice that there would be no classes on Friday. It'd be a teacher inservice day for us to plan for possible closures. Cue my anxiety settling back in. I was glad I received the news after I finished teaching, because I wouldn't have kept it together as well. In a matter of 48 hours, the situation escalated big time.

At this point, I was glad I took the time to make good lesson plans in the first place! It was seeming more and more likely that they'd be used by the minute.

Oh, in the midst of this, I was informed that I had some abnormalities on routine blood work that had required me to go have more tests done. We were on the verge of closing school indefinitely AND I might have a major health issue? Lovely. Did I mention that my birthday is coming up?

Soon came the bishop of the Diocese of Dallas waiving the Mass obligation for "vulnerable populations"...followed by a complete cancellation of public masses for a couple of weeks. Everything was changing quickly. I made a huge mistake of visiting Sam's Club for things I actually needed. Aldi's wasn't much better. I wondered what this social distancing was about, because it felt like it was going to be a challenge whatever it was. I continuously second-guessed anything I felt like I needed to do. I was at the beginning of spring break, and I felt more like I was beginning a prison sentence. Thomas found out he was to work remotely until the beginning of April, at least. I found out pretty quickly that we're going to teach remotely for at least a week. I think it'll be two weeks. Thomas' parents are both working from home. Thomas' sister and cousin who are in college were sent home for the semester, moving to online classes. God bless their professors who figured out how to make nursing and physical therapy classes go online in a week's timespan. That wasn't an easy feat, for sure.

At this point, I'm still a few days out from beginning my stint as an online teacher. This is an interesting time, no doubt. I'd like to say I'm staying hopeful, but that's a bald-faced lie. In general, I'm scared, I'm anxious, and I'm hopeless. I have plans to visit my family in OK for Easter, and I have no clue if that'll even happen. I'm scared because I don't know the next time I'll get to see them. I'm feeling guilty because I feel like I'm getting screwed out of a birthday, which is this Saturday, thanks for asking. Everything is closed, so I can't go shopping to treat myself to anything. I feel like getting my hair or nails done is an ill-fated endeavor. I can't go eat anywhere. (I can get takeout, but it seems like more of an ordeal than it's worth.) There's not much to be had at the grocery store because everyone has lost their damn minds and thinks this is the beginning of the apocalypse, so they've bought everything in sight. I had to delete Facebook off my phone so I could slowly regain sanity. Instagram isn't too far behind, if we're being honest.

I'm trying to find the bright spots, I promise, but this is a lot. It is nice getting to see Thomas more. I've been able to walk Katherine to and from daycare. I won't have to deal with a commute. I still get paid. Thomas still gets paid. My health concerns were all for naught. My students have the resources to make online schooling a reality. They should be safe and well-fed while at home. There's a chance we'll still get to go back to school. I've been able to catch up on things at home. We can still watch Mass on TV. We have more than ample technology to stay in touch with everyone. We have a well-stocked pantry and freezer. Hopefully we can attend an Easter Mass. No one I know has contracted any illnesses. Hopefully this will pass soon. Pray for me and my mental health. I'm praying for y'all, too!

Thoughts on Fitting In

(Something I wrote long before the COVID madness descended on the world...)

Lately, I’ve had this nagging feeling that something is “off”. 

You ever get those feelings? I do, from time to time, and they’re difficult feelings to shake. 

It all began at an event for my students. I was there with some of the other teachers, and it seemed like any conversation I fell into with my coworkers just ended with me feeling like a lesser person who somehow didn’t belong there. 

I’ve noticed that throughout my life, I’ve often felt this way. In most social settings it would seem I’m the odd one out for one reason or another. It seems like I’m either “too much” or “not enough” for many of the people around me. 

Perhaps I’m too inquisitive, deemed to be too intelligent, too bookish, too quiet, too boisterous, too crass, too talkative, too simple-minded, too altruistic, too worried, too compassionate, too cultured, too young, too old, too liberal, too conservative, too bossy...

Or not smart enough, not important enough, not popular enough, not loud enough, not quiet enough, not cultured enough, not assertive enough...

I could continue, but will spare you the litany of faults others have found in me. If you’ve ever been in this situation, you know what I mean, and if you don’t, then you’ve probably been a person who has made other people feel this way. We all probably have at least once. So many social settings seem like they have the “inner circle”. If you’re in, you’re in. If you’re out, you’ll never get in. The only way in seems to require you to completely change your whole self until you're unrecognizable.

So what is one to do if you find yourself “out”? Like I said, you can try to get in, but chances are it will be to no avail. You can have a pity party, which is satisfying for only a little bit, until it turns into full-on miserable wallowing. You can try to change yourself to fit the mold of the circles. 

Or you can find happiness as a square. Or a trapezoid...or maybe a decagon. One of the best ways to do this is to find others who are in your shoes and love them hard. And if you don’t know where to find these people, look on the periphery of social events, because you’re definitely not the only one. Listen to their story. Love them for who and what they are. For me, my life improves one hundred fold when I can be around the right people. I am more myself, more authentic, and less anxious. I can laugh loudly, sing along to music, dance awkwardly, and do all the things that make me who I am. 

Beyond finding the right people, I think happiness can come from accepting that which makes you who you are. The beautiful, chaotic mess of contradictions and intricacies woven together in the image of a loving god. You are just right exactly the way you are. The people who matter will think so, too. If places and people make you uncomfortable, don’t spend any more time there than absolutely necessary. Your energy is far too precious to waste on people and things that don’t feed your soul. 

10 Years... (pt. 3)

So, I've considered all I've done in the last 10 years, so now I want to take a look at where I am now and where I hope to be in 10 more years.

Profile of Amanda in 2019

(This isn't as insightful since you could easily read about my life right now. Even so.)

I'm now married with a baby, a mortgage, and a decent job. I still live in Dallas. I'm learning to navigate my new normal of life as a working mom. Some days are easier than others, but all in all, I am still quite blessed. I realize that the life Thomas and I have built together is a luxury that many people our age aren't afforded. We know what a blessing it is to be in our mid-20s with a baby and being homeowners. We try not to take any of it for granted.

My job, though frustrating and stressful at times has allowed me to fall back in love with teaching just for the sake of teaching. I still have days where I wonder if this is the correct career path for me. However, I'm practical enough to know that I'm young and have time to keep working through this path until I'm presented with a different option at the right time. Teaching at my current job is a new and different challenge that is so much easier for me to manage than at my old job. My students are one of the best things about work. (Okay, maybe not every day, but most days they truly are.)

I'm slowly adapting to living away from all of my immediate family. Adjusting to that has been a tough pill to swallow, especially since Katherine was born. I hate that she won't get to grow up with my nephews as much. I also hate that her time with my family is always at a premium. Believe it or not, Thomas and I have discussed options of moving away from Dallas. Much as it can feel like the easy choice at times, sadly, it isn't. No matter what we choose, someone or something is losing out. So, our options are to live close to one family or live close to no one. None of those are options we like, but it's a fact of life when you marry someone who grew up in a different place than you did. Ultimately, we have landed on the fact that we want Katherine (and any future children of ours) to grow up near at least some of her family. I think this will be a conversation that we have to continue throughout our marriage, constantly evaluating our current life and family circumstances. And so it goes...

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If I had to sum up the 2010s, for me it was a decade of coming into my own. I've figured out who I want to be and what kind of life I want to have. I've figured out who I want in my life and what kind of people I want to spend time with. I've figured out what's important to me and where my morals and faith fall in all of it. I've also tried to be better about making time for my people. I've developed my career, and I'm proud of what I've accomplished in my first 5 years of working. I'm proud of my marriage and family. I never could have imagined finding (and marrying!) someone as wonderful as Thomas. I wish 2009 Amanda could have understood who she would eventually find, but then again, I'm glad I didn't. I believe that all the heartbreak and pain I went through made me especially appreciative of Thomas and the genuine love he has for me. I never could have imagined the journey I'd take in this decade, but I'm proud of it. If I had a theme from the 2010s, I think it would be discovery. Discovery of faith, my ideals, love of family, and friends. I feel like I came into my own and decided what kind of person I wanted to be. The 2010s, even with all of the pain and loss that came, were good to me. 

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I have no idea what to expect from the 2020s. I anticipate this to be the decade in which I have all the rest of my babies. I also anticipate it to be the first decade of being solidly an adult. It's hard to imagine that in 10 years I'll be in my mid- to late-30s. I know the world will be incredibly different. My family alone will be hugely different. All of the boys will be graduated or in high school by 2029. While I have lots of hope for the future, I also have lots of fears. I worry about who from my family will die in the coming decade. My extended family, in particular, is getting older. The thought of dealing with a major death while living away from my family is not one I want to even think about right now. I'm not ready for that to happen, but I know it's only a matter of time before I get one of those phone calls. Thomas and people down here probably think I'm attached at the hip with my cell phone, but the sad fact is that it's my lifeline to Oklahoma. It's the only way I can instantly communicate with my family that is, at minimum, 4+ hours away from me. I just know that a red-eye drive, spurred by caffeine and adrenaline, will happen at one point or another. Thoughts like this, dark and dismal as they may be, really bother me. My mind has been fast at work fretting about all of it for the last month or two. I know that I should, instead, focus on the good and all the fun times that will come, but that's just not how my mind operates. 

Speaking of that, I want the 2020s to be a decade of better mental health for me. I've always been a worrier. There have been times in the last few years that I've felt incredibly anxious and/or depressed for long spans of time. I know it seems like the buzzword for now, but it's also getting easier for me to talk about it since many other people are so open and accepting of it now. There have been times in which either have inhibited my ability to function, especially within social settings. Pregnancy and postpartum has sparked a lot of these feelings back in me, unfortunately. I've also found that it can be particularly challenging for me living in a different environment than what I grew up around. There are many different social and societal expectations living in Dallas. So often I feel that everything has to be "just so". The house has to be decorated and arranged in a particular manner. All white or taupe interiors and upholstery...if your home doesn't look like a showroom at Pottery Barn or Crate & Barrel, you're doing it wrong. The food has to suit every possible dietary restriction known to man. God forbid anything is fried or contains cream of something soup. You can't leave the house without at least a little bit of makeup on. And don't even think about going to the doctor in plain jeans and a t-shirt, lest all the ritzy moms in their designer clothing look down their noses at you in your Plebeian attire. Children always have to be dressed in nice clothing and remain polite and relatively silent, lest they make you appear to be a neglectful or inept parent. And don't even think about the horrors of sending your child to public school. 

Compared to the simplicity of growing up in rural Oklahoma, Dallas is its own animal. It may not be as extreme as I put it out to be, but some days it feels like it, especially as a woman/mother/outsider. In the last few years, it has been a big source of frustration for me. This is another conversation that Thomas and I have on a regular basis. The good news is that this frustration is one-sided. Thomas is well aware of these "social norms" and loathes almost all of them. He hates how stuffy and uppity many people can be around these parts, so he's perfectly content to keep living in a way that is simpler than most around us. He's fine with saving money and not trying to keep up with the proverbial Joneses. In fact, he thinks the "Joneses" are...well, maybe I won't say what he thinks just to keep this post family-friendly. He is more forward-thinking than many men are. He believes women are just as capable as men, but he also reminds me that chivalry isn't dead. He is loving and accepting of all creeds and cultures. He is fiercely loyal to me and Katherine, and he won't allow anyone to treat us as lesser, despite what the social norms may be. He isn't afraid to tell people to "buzz off" when I'm feeling especially down or anxious. So many of the fears and worries that consume my anxious mind seem to be vanquished when Thomas gets hold of them. He listens and soothes me in a way that no one else could. In this spirit, I am trying to remind myself that God has given me Thomas to help me, regardless of what the 2020s may bring. 

I'm interested to see what positive changes will come our way. Be it new jobs, a new house, or, God willing, new babies to love. We'll get to be part of many weddings for friends and family members. We'll get to travel to new places and have lots of fun as a family, not just as a couple. I'm trying to embrace the fact that a new decade doesn't have to mean bad things. And to finish up a thought from a little bit ago, I am actively working to improve my mental health by trying a few different things. My goal for the coming decade is to be able to sustain those efforts and build on them, not just for me, but for my family as a whole.  

For better or worse, bring on a new decade!