deciphering the days

 I turned thirty! And it was as I predicted, quite thankfully.  No mid-life crisis. No guilt over the things I haven't done or the person I haven't become. No desire to cling to twenty-nine.  I saw an internet statement (can't find it now) that said a thirty-year-old is only a ten-year-old adult. If twenty is the age where we become "adults" (cause eighteen is still pretty young, but you can count it if you want), then we haven't been adults for very long. I'm only a ten-year-old adult. I have accomplished a lot in a mere ten years. I have changed a lot. There is still a lot to do, but it's exciting! Not weighing me down or depressing me. I can't do everything, and I don't want to. I will pick a few more things and enjoy them in the next few years.  So here's to being thirty and being ten and living a life that I like.

 You can always depend on me to write during the holidays.  This year's "discovery" was how strange it was to meet my siblings as adults.  We spent SOOOOO much time together as children, but then when we left, we really  left. At least I did.  I guess my older brother stuck around, but he got married and had kids immediately. I moved three hours away. My younger brother joined the military. That left my little sister still at home.  I go back for the holidays. I see people I recognize but I'm not sure I know them.  The older seems to have changed religions since last I knew, but I didn't ask.  The younger brother is married, has dogs, and isn't active military any more. Seems I missed an entire chapter of that story. The youngest is fifteen and now she is quiet and hyper aware of personal space. Being a new development, I don't know if these changes are a result of age, personality, or anxiety.  And there I am, married, only pseudo-religious,...

Forever on my journey toward sanity and healing, deconstruction and restoration.  ******* I stumbled across these two sayings during my internet scrolling:  “People will say this made me stronger, but I was a child. I didn’t need to be stronger. I needed to be safe.” (Stacy Kaiser, I think) "Father said we are not to cry." "That is because father is incapable of human emotion. You are ten. You can cry if you feel like it." (Vampire Dairies)  ******* I was retelling a childhood story to some friends the other day and made the statement, "and despite having never done anything particularly interesting in my life, somehow I am the black sheep of the family." They found it quite surprising that I was a "black sheep." Later I pondered if it was more of being the least favorite, rather than an outcast. I soon decided that was not worth my time or thought, and let it go.  A few days later, I was talking to my older brother and he mentioned his IQ score....

I am starting my sixth year teaching. That's not many years, but it seems like a lot at the moment. If I could go back and change the teacher orientation speech that I was given, here's some points to include: Every year is the exception. My first year was difficult only because it was my first year and I was building curriculum and learning classroom management. My second year was difficult - but only because we changed gradebook platforms, moved all of our assessments digitally, and because I had to fill in for the teacher next door who was on maternity leave. My third year was also difficult, but that was only because we changed assessment platforms and Covid hit that spring so we were digital. My fourth year was difficult, but that was during a pandemic and we were hybrid digital/in-person and that's not likely to happen again, so a different school year would be easier. My fifth year was difficult too, but that's because we changed assessment platforms (again), kid...

I have been drowning since watching someone else go under water.  The other person is fine; it was intentional. It was a baptism. Technically I'm fine too. I'm drowning in memories and emotions, not water.  The preacher talked about finding home in community and finding life in Jesus. We sang "How Deep The Father’s Love For Us." The peacefulness of the event was pulling me under as quickly as was the absence of fire, brimstone, and hell.  Was this what baptism was supposed to be? People were hoping the sun would come out just for a moment, as the North Sea was cold and those getting baptized would appreciate the warmth. I was hoping that the water from the sky hid the water from my eyes.  Or maybe others would assume my tears were of joy, because I knew one of the people being baptized.  I went about the rest of the day, telling myself that I wasn't that bothered. But night came, and the pressure I felt suggested it was the darkness of the ocean floor rather tha...

Do I get this risqué? Do I say these thoughts? Or do I always leave this post as a draft? ******* At this age and stage of life, most of my friends are married. But there was a time where I was going to back-to-back bridal showers and engagement parties. A common party activity was to write a note to the soon-to-be newlyweds, giving them advice on marriage.  My husband and I dated for four years and have been married for five. So at the time of all these parties, I didn't know much about marriage (not that I do now) and, per my usual social anxiety, I could never think of ANYTHING to write on those dumb cards.  'Don't go to bed angry.' 'Write each other love notes.' 'The couple who prays together, stays together.' Um...no. Absolutely not. I will not be writing those things. But I could never think of anything better. Until now.  Now I would say to the women (assuming I have the courage), "do not feel guilty, live and learn, and talk to each other....

There has always been a societal pressure for my husband and I to procreate. When we say we are not ready, the responses range from "you will be soon" to "no one ever is, you just do it anyway." But what if we aren't ready because we aren't going to get ready? As an adolescent, my mother regularly left me to tend to the younger children (to the extreme amount). I fed them, bathed them, watched them learn to crawl and walk, listened to their first words, taught them my name was 'sis' and not 'mom,' taught them to read and play games. My mother crowed about how she was teaching me responsibility and that "babysitting is the best form of birth control." Well maybe it was.  Here I am, about to turn thirty, without even a whisper of plans for children.  Occasional we are reminded that we will regret it if we don't have kids. For instance, who will care for us when we are older? And isn't it important to us to keep the family name...

It has been two years since I posted. Since I wrote.  I told myself that Covid was not affecting me that strongly. I don't mind wearing a mask. I'm not anxious about the vaccine. I am not very social anyway so there were only a couple of events cancelled that I cared about. The Kentucky Derby, my overseas trip, a family reunion or two.  Teaching digitally was what it was. Not my favorite, but it gave me enough time to complete a Master's degree. A lot of experimental learning was lost, but most of the chemistry content was translated to a digital platform. I was proud of my curriculum, and it felt infinitely superior to the chemistry lessons in my homeschool "course." It's been two years now and Covid is still around. I received a call from my school district saying we are still wearing masks, at least for now. That's fine - I don't mind. Life hasn't changed that much for me.  But I haven't written since a month or so after Covid first came int...