sweet escape

At the end of a crazy day, I read with my children, said prayers, and put them to bed. Then, I hot-tailed it to the grocery store with my neighbor for a wild night out on the town. We laughed and talked while we picked up a few things, like grapes and bread and stuff. It was a good time unwinding in a nerdy sort of way. But something happened as we were leaving that made me smile a little extra.

We were stilling laughing and talking as we left the store, and as we were loading the trunk, a guy who works at the store was walking past us and he asked if we needed some help. We said no but held a bit of friendly conversation before getting into the car. My friend got in last, and told me that I'd never guess what just happened. And I was like, huh? She then said that the guy we had just chatted with told her, "Don't tell your friend, but she is really cute." So, needless to say, she told me within a nanosecond of getting into the vehicle. And it made me smile. How sweet. 

But it also made me think about some of the idioms that we say. They don't always make sense—at all. Or maybe this one isn't supposed to. Is it a cue to do exactly opposite of what they say?  For any guys out there, know that if you use that opener "don't tell your friend, but . . . " the friend will definitely tell. Within a nanosecond—or less—of being out of your earshot.

our first dance

Twirling
as
if
in
the
glittering
light
of
day
in 
the
midst
of 
the 
smoky
night
as 
you 
talk
with
me
dance
with
me
and 
hold 
me
as 
we 
move
in
whirl
of 
purest
delight
in
wave
of
happy
times
wish
to 
repeat
again
and
again
until 
we 
know 
nothing
but
the 
comforting
hum
of
our
swirled
souls
and
want
for 
nothing
more

On the stairwell in Decatur, Texas 

taffy happy


Having sweet thoughts brought on by sweet thoughts. 

It is a good place to be on days when you don't know where you're headed because the watchword is patience and you have to trust that everything will be better than okay in the end—even before the end. Hopefully. 


entirely insufficient



How can the words I miss you be
Too much and too little all at once?
I shall tell you—
They are too much when you feel
Your heart upon your sleeve and the tears
That come from missing are too much
To take because you are unsure
If the sentiment is mutual between
The two hearts at hand
When fear whispers like a devil in your ear
That this person does not care
Enough to miss you in return . . .
That this person never will
Because you can give him something more
And he is potentially afraid
Most likely unaccustomed to your way
Because being different from the rest
Might not be what anyone is looking for

And those three words, I miss you, are
Entirely insufficient when the adventure
Calls for all you've got plus more
Because you only have words to give
For now; however,
Missing him is something to rejoice
In because you discover that you can feel again
That your heart recognizes
Someone special when it comes across
A soul so wonderfully matched with your own that
Life before his presence is difficult to imagine
And the thought of him ever leaving
Only makes the missing double worse
A poignant pierce upon the heart
A terrible twist of a knot in the throat
And still the words are too much and too little
Because it is part of yourself that is the missing piece
That you gave away from the very start



on thin ice

One month. I have just one month until student teaching overtakes my life for a time. And the worst news is that I am unprepared for it. I feel as if I am skimming the surface, trying to find a rhythm that isn't there. My only thought is to throw in the towel and put it off until my life slows down a little. I can't see how I will be able to do all that is required and take care of my family and everything else that is going on right now. However, if the past eight years is any indicator, I have been able to make it through some rough spots, and I don't believe my life will be any less insane come January. I weigh this all out in my mind at least twice a day, and I convince myself that quitting is not an option. When I talk to my friends and family, I speak of this quitting option as if it were a real option. I think everyone is just sitting back waiting to see if I'll actually go against my nature and quit or keep on going as per usual.

To be completely transparent, this is not a joke or exaggeration. I honestly contemplate pushing off student teaching for a semester. And I'd totally do it, except I also worry that I won't ever go back and finish if I stop (or even press pause) for now. I don't feel strong enough or smart enough or resilient enough to do what I dreamt I would do when this time came. There is not enough of me left to give at this point.

I feel like an ice skater slipping on thin ice, and if I fall just right, I won't ever get back up because I will have fallen through, into a perilous abyss.