Blogging.
I've just forgotten about it. Almost completely. Excepting for the occasional guilty nag, it's simply not on my radar. I intend to remedy this. But it's going to have to be a revamping across the board. Blogging isn't the only thing that's taken a hit. We've also neglected to take pictures. Or film. I don't notebook as much as I use to. Been super lousy about contacting anyone outside of my immediate vicinity.
I'm just feeling a little bit buried in the every day. It's only now, that I've looked up and gone "Good heavens, it's June," that I've realized that I should probably take my blinders off. Work has been busy. Our little two year olds have officially moved up to the older class and we now have a brand new set of two year olds. And lame little me is a bit heart broken. I have to see my kids in a different classroom. Who knew this would be so hard! At least when you leave a day care you can kind of use the out-of-sight, out-of-mind approach to missing the kids you teach. But I have to see them! And they run up to me in the hallway and give me big hugs and shout "It's my real teacher!" while their new teacher has to rush them along to whatever it is they're doing. Without me now.
I know, a tad dramatic.
I'm sure I will have no problem adoring these new little ones. But it's making me wonder if I'm really cut out to be a teacher. Can I handle falling for these kids only to have them go away? Can I toughen up that much? Maybe it's not fair to base my future teaching job on this, because I'm also in mommy mode-- and just want one so badly for my own. But it's something to consider right? It's rough to recognize that their new teacher is just going to have to figure out how to help them now. Like today when one of my favorite favorite kids started crying during lunchtime. I could see her from across the cafeteria and I'm pretty sure my heart dropped and I got teary eyed. I have never seen her cry like that! And I know it's because she's not use to her new room. Her new classmates. Her new teacher. And I also know that she's a great kid, and that she'll be okay. But. But, but, but. Do I have to just sit there and watch?
So this is going to be one of those blog posts. Just rambling about whatever the heck comes to my mind right now, because that's what I'm going through. I've learned to not worry about chronology in my journal writing. Nine times out of ten, I'm just glad that I wrote at all and didn't spend all my time trying to catch up on what I'd forgotten to record. Can't I do that in the blog as well? Who cares that I haven't written in months. I'm writing now, so there.
I finally figured out what Both Sides Now is about. I think I can say that it's my favorite song. Is that allowed? Can I have only one favorite song? I have billions of favorite songs. But in a certain way, Both Sides Now is my favorite. The first time I really listened to it I was 17 and silly. And I felt a connection to it. But I didn't understand it. Not really. I thought I did, but every time I listened to it I felt as though there was something I wasn't grasping. Something she was saying that I wasn't hearing. And then this week, out of nowhere I started singing it to myself on the way home from work. The radio wasn't cutting it and I needed to sing. And as I was singing... I started bawling. I get it. You have one idea of how life is. You have a pretty picture in your head, or you figure out some special thing about life's joys and pleasures and you feel as though you know what life is all about. And then something down the road happens. Something hard. And you see another side of life, or those previous lessons you've learned. "I really don't know life at all," she says. I get it!
I think I understood the concept before. But that feeling that Joni Mitchell emits in the song, the thing I wasn't grasping; I feel it now. It's growing up. It's letting go of your naiveté and realizing that the older you are, the less you know. We've come out of having a tough year. Our pretty plans, that picture in our head, was completely dashed as we came to Ashland, KY. Ian's job was going to be perfect. I'd start having lots of babies. We'd have a house and a garden. We would be happy and glittery and all of our dreams were going to come true. But then the job thing didn't really happen. And I was still apparently broken and kids didn't happen. And we got by on my little government volunteer job. And we scrimped. We figured out the value of money and how far it can stretch. We gained testimonies of tithing. We learned to rely and trust each other more than we had ever had to before. And then we moved to Lexington and things began to pick up. We're still scrimping and getting by, but with more comfort and ease. I'm still not pregnant, but I have been blessed with job after job where the mother in me is being worked.
I think I've learned more about life and living in the last year and a half than I ever had before. And a part of me misses that naiveté. I miss the pretty images in my head. I miss my ability to daydream. I'm a lot more careful than I was before. I've had to really watch my emotions and hopes, because I can't rely on those things. As much as I would like to. The last verse of Both Sides Now goes as follows:
Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say 'I love you' right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way
But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well, something's lost
and something's gained
in living every day.
And you know what's the greatest? In all that rough and beautiful time I've become. I'm so much more patient that I use to be. So much quicker to trust and ponder. I've been thinking a lot about that 'something's gained' line. And I know without a doubt that what I've gained in this important trial far outweighs what would have happened in an 'easier' scenario. For instance, if we had received that glittering picture right away. HA. Can you imagine? How would we know how to manage the expenses of a house if we didn't know the value of money? How would I be doing right now, watching my little babies, without the patience I have now? Without first having this understanding that my greatest desire, will most likely be my biggest trial? That taking care of children every day is hard. work. And that it's not until you open your heart to them that you truly see them. That that glittering picture from your imagination does not exist. And relying on it only inspires disappointment. How grateful I am to know that! And to hold my hopes close to my heart, and trusting only God to make those hopes true. I am so glad that He has a plan. So glad that I'm not in charge of it.
Oh my goodness, I have really rambled on, haven't I? I'm pretty excellent at that. This is a pretty accurate description of where I'm at right now. A little wiser, finally realizing that I know squat. And that I'm glad for that. Still hopeful for a baby, but not so obsessed with the timing anymore. Grateful to be learning good things in the meantime, even though I have days where I wish I could see the whole labyrinth, rather than just the hedges surrounding me. Grateful to be living in beautiful Lexington in our 1800s house. Grateful that I have a job I can put my heart into. Grateful that Ian is doing what he loves and that he's getting stinking good at it.
And grateful to realize that our glittering image seems to be happening, just not in the way we planned.
Don't know when I became so open on this thing. Probably just feeling guilty for the absence. Just letting you know that all is well! We're learning to live life every day. Now we just need to incorporate some more fluff and less work. And then the fluff will be what I post, and you wont have to read all the way to the bottom of this long mess.
