Retrospective

Today is the conclusion of my first year as a school counselor.  Well, unless you count those two pesky work days next week ; )  I feel like I could write a novel about all the experiences I've had in this short amount of time.  I took this job while still living in another town- nearly 2 hours away, having not sold my house there, and with my husband still employed by our old house.  I had no idea what was going to happen, but sometimes you have to go out on a limb because that is where the fruit is. 

I joined the faculty of Liberty Elementary, moving to lower grades than I taught, serving in a completely different position, not knowing a soul who worked there and being embarrassed by how 'up in the air' my whole life was at that point.  After four years in the same place, knowing exactly what to expect and what was expected of me- I experienced baptism by fire in nearly every area of this move. I am grateful that I landed in a supportive place.

August, September, and October were almost a blur as I began to figure out exactly what I did (what it means to be a school counselor and what my job really was).  I learned a great deal in college, but we all know- you can talk about swimming all day long, but you don't know how until you're thrown in the water.  I got to know my kids and learned that big or little, they really have similar needs.  My heart swelled with appreciation of children where they begin their journeys and how they grow along the way.  Meanwhile, I was still struggling to get my old house sold and my family with me.  I was fearful that my leap of faith failed.  I hated trying to explain the mess of my life to well-meaning colleagues, but was blessed to find they were not judgmental and were, in fact, completely supportive.  Some of them even shared similar stories of stressful moves and sacrifice.  In those moments, I could forgive myself a little.

In November, I experienced my first feelings of success as a school counselor.  I organized a can food drive with my club, the Kindness and Compassion Club.  We exceeded our goal and effectively doubled what I originally estimated.  The most important accomplishment of November, however, was finally going under contract on our old house.  There was a lot of back and forth- trying to spend time together as a family, trying to pack, and trying to find a new home.  We placed an offer on one home, only to find out that someone beat us to the punch just minutes before.  While that home was beautiful, I am grateful we were steered away from it.  It was at the top of our price range, not where we'd originally planned to look, and there were no hardwood floors (carpet+kid+dog+live+trying to keep a clean home= set up for failure).  Additionally, we were blindsided with a heavy expense- the furnace in the house we were selling was in need of repair and so old that replacement parts did not even exist anymore.  I held my breath and fought my urge to kick, scream, and cry as we forked $2k dollars of our already reduced profits over to the buyers of the house, who were not exactly the most amenable people.  We returned, a little bruised, but not defeated, to a house we'd considered previously.  There were things I liked about it, but it was taking some convincing.  I just wasn't completely sure.  The day we were going to make an offer, my realtor told me she just wanted me to see this one house she found.  I saw the pictures.  There were things I really liked about the house, but it looked like a total remodel, which I wasn't sure I wanted.  Humoring her, but thinking we would probably still make an offer on the last house, I went.  While I saw that many updates were needed, it had so many bonuses (plantation shutters and a pantry to die for, to name a few!) and the price was low enough that could afford to remodel.  The house was in great physical condition, so it was all cosmetic.  Michael said, "it's go time", we made the offer, and in a whirl, we were under contract.  Boom: under contract as sellers and under contract on the new house.  I'd love to say this was without event, but like I said, the buyers of our old house were none too kind and threatened to back out about a week before closing.  After an incredibly stressful pack and go, we were here.  Tulsa- I never thought I'd get to come home and I was home.

Usher in December, with a closing date on the new house just 11 days before Christmas, I was overwhelmed!  We got busy right away and had quite a bit pulled together and liveable before Christmas.  I'm not saying pretty and nice- I'm saying liveable- and for the first time, I woke up in the mornings in my own home and began to feel like the pieces could come together.  My little wild child started preschool at Immanuel Lutheran, which is adjacent to the neighborhood where I grew up.  I felt comforted and joyful about this small notion. 

In January, all that was missing was getting Michael here, but I feel we did a pretty good job of keeping things together in the meantime.  Claire was convinced she was in kindergarten for a considerable part of the month.  "Mom, kindergarten is what they call school in Tulsa, Okmahoma!" (not a typo, just how Claire says Oklahoma)  January through March were also a bit of a blur.  By April, the monster of state testing emerged.  I'd convinced myself that I was not going to allow testing to bog me down as much as some stories I'd heard.  I was going to smile my way through it- and I did, if by smile- I meant 'cry'.  Okay, I guess I handled myself well.  However, this is what it is like:  imagine a grimy pool at a condemned house and someone handing you a toothbrush to clean it.  Meanwhile, they are standing over your shoulder saying you missed a spot, you weren't doing it they way they wanted, and you only had a certain amount of time to get the entire pool spotless- no room for mistake.  Then, you wonder why you're bothering- the house is condemned anyway.  Yes, my whole life outside of it felt totally neglected.  One insane night, my boss and I were stuck in my office until after 10 p.m.  How amazing is it that my boss stayed right there with me- the entire time.  I will say, we talked all night and it was actually an enjoyable opportunity to get to know one another.  We just would have enjoyed it more if it wasn't followed by being back at work by 7:30 the next morning!

By May, I encountered the end of year drag.  Any educator can tell you, the last couple of weeks of school feel longer than the entire year up to that point.  As a counselor and as a teacher, I have officially gone on autopilot in May. 

What I truly learned is that a counselor is a wonderfully strange position.  You're not really a "teacher", but you are.  You're not really an "administrator", but you're important to the administrative team.  It's a bit of an identity crisis, so I found it essential to define myself, the way I wanted to be a counselor.  Overall, I feel pretty good about how everything went this year.

I learned that each day on the job, you're like a celebrity.  When I had older students, they tried to act indifferent, but the love was there.  With my little loves, I felt like I walked a red carpet each day.  When I passed a line of kids, I got hug after hug after hug- as though I was famous.  Where else do you get that?!

I learned that a year is enough time to truly feel like a collegial family.  In one year, we laughed, we cried, we shared concerns about kids and joys for their successes and everything in between.  For that, I am so grateful.  I am not sure I could have made it through the tumult of my changing life without that support.

I learned, above all, if I put my mind to something, I can accomplish it and that I think I may be more capable than I even knew. 

Happy to close this school year, feeling successful, learning so much about myself and life, and knowing (after a restful and enjoyable summer) I will be ready to roll up my sleeves and go again next year.  But this time, I am smarter : )

Random Whimsy- Vol. 1

On prayer...
My daughter goes to a Christian preschool and they may be doing too good of a job on her Christian education.  The other night, Claire asked to say the prayer before dinner and we encouraged her to go ahead.  She started by saying the prayer they say before eating at her school, "God is great, we love him, let us thank him for our food...." and then proceeded to launch into a diatribe about how it was wrong for those soldiers to kill our Jesus and he should have been alive, not killed.  Whoa.  Intense stuff for a four year old.

Claire drew this- she says it's Jesus.4

On intact masculinity...
As a part of Claire's birthday celebration, we took her to Build A Bear with some lovely friends.
Exhibit A:

From L to R: Amykate, Masyn, Claire, Isaac, and Hope

 

Photo credit: Misty Tharp

And the mommas- with Mindy Russell

with Misty Tharp

As part of their party package, they ask you to build 6 bears, so you can get the free signature bear (you know, to be signed by a bunch of preschoolers who can barely write their names ; ) ).  We only had five bears to build, so Michael grabbed a ready to make bear and proclaimed, "let's do this thing". 
Exhibit B:

Photo credit: Misty Tharp

 Now, witness what happens when my husband builds a bear.  Apparently, it's German and no one can own it?
Exhibit C:

On cutting my first LP...
If I was a rapper, I swear my name would be A/C Killa (east or west coast affiliation not yet established).  Yet again, I killed the A/C in a car.  It happened first in my Sentra. 

Stock photo- but basically what the Sentra looked like.  It was so cute : )

I loved that car, but we sold it low and sent it on it's way when the cold air failed to blow and the repair cost exceeded the car's value.  Now, it has happened in my Corolla.

Boo. Michael says we can fix it cheaper- may be use used parts?  Sigh.  Did this really just happen again? Oklahoma summers will not permit this.

Free, cheap, and Occasional Splurge Summer

My mind is on summertime.  It's what keeps me sane through the torments of state testing.  That being said, I would really like to keep costs down this summer.  I'd like to repay some of the savings I borrowed during our move and I am facing the need for a newer 'mom ride' (which means a car payment, where I have enjoyed being payment free for 3 years now).  So, I am starting my list.

FREE

1) Tulsa County Library's Summer Reading Program- Claire loves reading and this will keep her in the mode as Pretty-K approaches.
2) Riverside Splash Park- zero depth place to splash and keep cool.
3) Kids' activities classes at places like Michael's, Lowes, and Home Depot.
4) Washing the car- Claire loves a chance to squirt me with the hose
5) Porch time- my house has amazing porches!  I am thinking mornings on the front porch and evenings on the screened in porch in back.
6) Figure out the free days at Philbrook and Gilcrease and be cultured!
7) Visit the Guthrie Green and see music.  Claire loooooves to dance
8) Visiting friends' houses- so many lovely friends close by!
9) Visit the Linnaeus Teaching Garden- also allowing Claire to tend to some plants that are hers in our yard.

CHEAP

1) Season passes to Big Splash (which is practically in my backyard).  Initial cost is not cheap, but cost over time and use- a bargain!
2) Tulsa Zoo
3) Cool off at the movies!  We'll be able to take in matinees and Claire is great in movies.  Her dad will really love this option!
4) Have dinner on a patio on Brookside or Cherry Street.
5) Garage sales and flea markets
6) Check out the Cherry Street Farmer's Market
7) Blue Bell Ice Cream's Taste of Summer tour in Broken Arrow
8) Woolaroc Kids' Festival in July
9) Going to the lake
10) Visit the Philcade
11) Enjoy nature at the Oxley Nature Center

OCCASIONAL SPLURGE

1) Trip to Texas to see my Jill and Claire's cousin Mara!  Love, love, love this time- and our trips to IKEA : )

So- what are you doing this summer?  No really, I'm asking!

How a girl fell in love and never fell out

My home sweet home.

Cherry Street

Blue Dome

Brookside

When I say "there is no place like home"- I mean "there is no place like home".  I come from a very small, yet tightly bound family.  I have no siblings; I grew up without cousins.  My mom was one of the few, and the strongest constants in my life.  For that reason, I feel I have cleaved to my hometown, as its familiarity and comfort were and are familial to me.

I feel my town resembles me- in parts boisterous and bustling, in parts- quiet.  Quirky and bold, yet refined and varied.  Since returning home, I feel there are so many places to explore- with my family or on my own.  I feel I am constantly coming across places I did not know existed or forgot existed and it is like finding hidden treasure.

It feels like a ghost of me growing up lingers and mingles with the me of today.  I feel more like me that I have in a long time and hope Michael will enjoy the city in his own way as we settle in.

Truthfully, I am an urbanite.  I relish being close to things and to people.  I have to laugh sometimes because I always hear people talking about their dream of "buying some land and building a house"- yet,  as much as I feel that is a beautiful dream, mine has always been the opposite.  I wanted a nice lot in an established neighborhood.  I wanted an older house with character, where I could mix new and interesting with the charm and vintage of the house.  City lights are like glitter and a little noise never hurt me.

Philbrook Garden

Welcome back, Lindsay.  Welcome home.

The Other Anniversary

This morning, I woke up haunted.  Michael left for work extra early and I was home with our girl, who threw up the night before.  In the 1.5 hours between when Michael woke me up and when Claire bounded in and asked for cartoons, I was stuck- fixated- focused.  You see, tomorrow will be my eighth wedding anniversary.  I'm not haunted by that.  I am haunted by my cousin, who was supposed to be there.

My cousin Tim, who is my mother's first cousin's son technically (but family is family in my book), lived outside of Chicago, the middle of three brothers.  As kids, the two of us clicked well and played together at family functions.  I felt a tight bond, in spite of living twelve hours apart.  So- eight years ago, Tim was graduating from the University of Oregon and- rumor had it- proposing to his girlfriend, Katie, at the end of the month.  It was exciting!  I was getting married, he was getting married, his older brother, Nick, had just married a wonderful girl named Eva.  I was thoroughly excited thinking about all this family coming down for my wedding.

As it stood, Tim was unable to attend.  He was unable to manage the travel expenses, like many college students, was my understanding.  On March 5, 2005, I had a lovely wedding- with a honeymoon to London planned a week later.

In the interim week between my wedding and my honeymoon, I returned to work.  I cannot even recall what day it was when I received a call from my new husband.  He told me to drive straight to my aunt's house, instead of driving home. I was quite concerned, actually thinking that something may have been wrong with my mother, who was going through cancer treatments at the time. When I arrived, my aunt and husband sat with me in my aunt's living room as my aunt leaned into me and said, "Tim has passed away".  Passed away?  That is a term associated with an elderly person at heaven's gate.  That is a term associated with the ending of a long illness, resulting in going toward the light.  That is not a term I associated with my then 22 year old, as far as I knew- completely healthy cousin.  My aunt's words are indelible in my head.  "Tim passed away".  What the hell?  Why is my 22 year old cousin dead?  Why didn't he get to propose to Katie and have babies, drive a minivan and live in a house in the suburbs?  Why did all of this extinguish in the blink of an eye?

The night of my wedding, Tim and some friends had climbed to the top of a multi-story apartment building to look at the stars- the same stars over my sky as I danced at my reception, when one unfortunate step took his life.  He stepped into a chimney shaft and fell several stories.  He died instantly.  It was such a freak occurrence.

For the next several days, I was a lunatic.  My family had to assure me that I needed to go on my honeymoon, and that it was what Tim would have wanted me to do.  I felt so guilty leaving my family.

Now, each year, I share my anniversary with the anniversary of the passing of my cousin.  Each year I am married, I know we have lived another year without Tim.  While I think of him often and have done pretty well on past anniversaries, today, I felt seized. I felt gripped.  Maybe it is because I realize he would be thirty now.  Maybe it was because I saw his girlfriend's facebook page (she's friends with my family members still) and saw that she is married with a baby now. Of course, I wish her all the best and could never imagine going through this on her end.  However, I admit to tearing up when I thought about how that could have been Tim's baby, if one step would have been different. (again, I am very happy for Katie and her family)

And now that I have spilled my guts in blog form, perhaps, I can go on and have a wonderful anniversary tomorrow.  Of that, I know Tim would approve.

((Disclaimer- this post is only my point of view.  I cannot even began to express the feelings of other family members, nor do I intend to portray my perspective as superior in any way shape or form))

The Great Eight

It seems like an eternity since we met in 2001 and began dating in 2002.  Sometimes I really wish college Lindsay and college Michael could go out on a date, then magically bean back to our current station.  He told me he didn't want us to get in engaged until I graduated, so he proposed on the day I walked.  I suppose I should give him props for doing so while driving and popping the box open with one hand.  Less than one year later, we were married. We traveled a little, visiting London and New York, before inviting our own little person into the world, just after our fourth wedding anniversary.  I am still saddened that we haven't had a number two yet, but God has a plan for that. 

March 5, 2005

On our seventh anniversary, Claire threw up in my car on our way home.  Our plans changed to staying with her and eating takeout. When we tried to reschedule, I was on a field trip with kids and received a call that Michael was headed for the hospital.  If you want to know what follows puke, it's an appendectomy.  I judiciously decided I did not care to find out what followed puke and appendicitis, so we called our celebration a wash and went on.  Perhaps it was foreshadowing- because year seven proved to be our toughest.  It was layered in best laid plans, some of which came to fruition, some of which did not work out as planned.  If you ever want to know what your marriage is made of- move. It's been a tricky year, but a lot of the most challenging pieces of the puzzle are coming together.  Before us, we have year 8.  I think we've earned it.  It seems crazy to even think that we are at the better part of a decade as we proceed- and that's just of marriage.  We've been together eleven.  Here's to a great year.  Here's to looking back on our eighth year of marriage and calling it 'the great eight'.

The Best Laid Plans

Where have I been?  See, I started this blog to live out some sort of journalistic fantasy.  I love to write.  Maybe I write inspiring notions, maybe I write humorous tidbits, or maybe what I write is simply my audience humoring me.  I started this blog to document a journey- long before I was anywhere near any goal I wished to accomplish.  I started this blog knowing I was stuck, in need of some changes, and, frankly, pretty depressed. 

I decided to return to school and complete a graduate degree in 2009 and began my program when Claire was only 9 months old.  I finished in 2011 and began turning the gears on my career goals.  In 2012, I surprised myself, by making a move to elementary and I began my school counselor adventure here:

This is Liberty Elementary.  I so seriously believed that I was meant to be secondary.  Whenever I interviewed,  I felt God was telling me to look another direction.  It is a pleasure to broaden my horizons by trying something new.  I find that I am enjoying the kids just the same.  When it comes down to it- be it first grade or twelfth, kids just want to be heard, accepted, nurtured and loved. 

In months leading up to this point, some tremendously difficult situations arose- in terms of selling our old house, living arrangements, family separation, imposing on loved ones, and the pain and stress related to feeling like everything was up in the air.  I was embarrassed.  If I weren't such a fool, this would have gone so much better.  Well, that's how I felt at the time.  Some of what life dished out was unexpected (go figure).  'The best laid plans,' according to Robert Burns, 'often go awry'.  I was living a complete and total leap of faith.  I began to really invest in faith at that point- and perhaps, parts of this journey were meant to draw me closer.  In the end, we sold our old house for less than we'd wanted (which is pretty typical, I think), bought the new owners a new furnace- as a fun surprise- about a week before closing, then bridged a homeless gap of one week- moving into our new home eleven days before Christmas. 

... and we made this house our new home.  It is a cozy post-war gem nestled in the heart of midtown Tulsa.  Finally, I am here.  Tulsa is my hometown and truly the place where I feel like me.  I've worried that people may think I am crazy- going through all this.  However, I know the clearest path to failure is the one aligned with trying to please everyone else. 

This story is not all about me.  If it appears I just made a decision and leaped, that would be an oversimplified assumption.  My husband has supported me, even when this was all wearing on him as much as it was me.  I can't tell his story though.  That would be unfair and impossible.  I can only tell mine. 

I thought a lot about how to restart my blog.  I've wanted to write again for quite sometime, but, admittedly, much of what I went through to get here was painful for me and for my family.  I am so grateful to be coming through it, stronger and better.  The adventure is not complete, so I will continue to be prayerful for the coming future and excited about new opportunities.  For instance, Miss Priss (shown here):

 will be enrolled in pre-k this month!  She loves school and learning and I am enjoying watching her thrive in every aspect. 

So, on this note, I officially welcome myself back to blogging.  More to come- this journey is still in motion.