my pink life, mi vida rosada

Yes, it's already Saturday morning. That doesn't mean anything, really. I'd still like to link-up at the Gypsy Mama , so I'm going to. The word of the week: voice. My voice rises, gets louder, then at the breaking point, gets really quiet. "No te escucho," my students say. They look at me, quiet down, and I begin again, with my volume so low that they must strain to hear me over the hum of the air conditioner. It's so loud that most of the time I can't hear myself think. Between the excitement of doing science experiments and the fair and halloween and birthdays and the promise of so many fun things, it is not until I am very quiet that my students finally start to hear me. My voice; when I use it the right way, is a tool for learning. It is a tool for encouraging, a tool for loving. When it gets loud, no one can hear it. When it is quiet, people lean in to listen. Not only in the classroom, but in life, in general. I don'...

In January, I set myself the New Year's Resolution goal of running an organized race at least once every month in 2012. I can't believe I'm actually 10/12 of the way there! In August, my running buddy spotted a groupon for "Color Me Rad" -- one of those trendy races where people start out all dressed in white and people throw color at them until they are all sorts of rainbow looking. I agreed to run with her, thinking it would be nice to try something different, and the groupon made the price of the race really affordable. And then, school started, September happened, I more or less stopped running. Oh no! Except I was still running a little teeny tiny bit. Coaching Girls on the Run, occasionally meeting up with running buddy for a walk/jog, rarely heading out on my own. So not running much, but running a little teeny tiny bit. Last Saturday, it was time to put on a white shirt and find out what I would really think about having people throw stuff ...

I have been in a slump. A self-deserving, self-pitying, ugly place. I'm trying to get out. I'm trying to appreciate the little things, to look on the bright side, to find the silver lining. It's hard. I want so badly to make big changes in my life, but it is overwhelming. I want so badly to be satisfied with what I have, but I live a life of coveting. I want so badly to be a giver, to let go of what I have, and to know that I will always, always have enough. I want to put my faith in God, and the promises Jesus told us of, and have those promises as my rock. I want to clean out the house, simplify, and be satisfied. But somehow, I am always wanting more, and not of the right things. I want more stuff. More pretty clothes, more pretty dishes, more food in the refrigerator, more furniture, more bedding, more. And more, and more, and more. I want children. I want babies to fill up my house and my heart and my time, rather than just my thoughts of how...

enjoying a Lori McKenna song that I don't know all the words to. a little cold on this rainy, cloudy, super grey day. listening to sweet hubby start the supper preparations....his mama's lentil recipe, and sopaipillas....yum! hungry for that delicious supper. ready for my crazy kids to come back to school tomorrow, after their long weekend, parent conferences, and my work day in the classroom today. sad not to be at the beach, where the weather was amazing this weekend. And the company was even better (thanks to both running buddy and roommate!) hopeful that the next round of fertility medicine will do the trick, but trying not to be *too* hopeful. overwhelmed by my schedule...directing a wedding this weekend, traveling to pick apples, going to see Pilobolus perform, and all within about 36 hours. expecting the kitty cat to snuggle up tonight, since it's actually pretty cold out, and therefore in. not using facebook anymore, and hoping it helps me to be m...

That I have definitely been avoiding dealing with real life. I'm not coping well. I wish I could just be pregnant, already. I wish that the fertility drugs would work. I wish that it wasn't so ingrained in me and everyone else that babies are the natural and expected next step. I wish that it wasn't so socially awkward to be married for more than 5 years and still not have kids. I wish that I wasn't jealous of the random women I don't even know that I see in stores who are pregnant. I wish that I wasn't sort of happy that the pregnant teacher on my hallway will probably be out for the rest of the year, and I don't have to see her waddle and be jealous all day long. I wish that I could talk about it without crying, because I think it would help me feel more normal. I wish that I didn't feel like such a disappointment to friends and family when they'd like to hear happy news. I wish I didn't feel like my body is failing me. I...

I did things my way, in the middle of a group trip. It felt good. Like I'm a grown up. I know, it's ridiculous....but at 31 I finally feel like it is ok for me to say, "I'm too tired for this activity; I'm going to bed." And no one complained. I mean, I get up at 5:30 every morning. It's not unreasonable for me to be tired and ready to sleep around 9:00. I wanted to skip the fire? I skipped it. I wanted to skip the silly games? i skipped them. I wanted to skip the ball game? I skipped it. There was too much other fun to be had. Like, naptime fun. Or sitting in the sun, fun. Or swimming in the lake fun. Or running the trail around the lake fun. Or adventures finding walmart fun. It was a great trip. Lots of fun spent hanging out with the college students. Lots of fun singing praises to God. Lots of fun eating and eating and eating. Lots of fun talking about what it means to be an outsider, and how we are called to this li...

Life lately has been a little bit sad. Ok, a lotta bit sad. My travel buddy's dad passed away on my second day of school, so I quickly made arrangements for an awesome substitute teacher and a last minute flight and was able to spend the day before the memorial service and the day of the memorial service with my travel buddy, her mom, her brother, and her sister. Although it was hard for me to make the decision to leave my classroom and my new group of students so early in the school year, and for three whole days (the most I've ever taken in a row!), I have no doubt that it was the right thing for me to do. When I got back to the airport, my mama told me to run, go hug David, because he was picking up his daughter to take her to the hospital to see her mama, Sister, who, after three long years of awful, awful bone cancer that had spread to lots of other places, had a heart attack in the hospital. I hugged his neck, told him I love him (he's been my boyfriend all m...