New Again

This last week I began a new semester of classes. In case you didn't notice summer is peeking around the corner, the days are longer, hotter, and way more relaxed around here. Not that I delude myself into thinking they are going to stay that way, I know better, but after a frantic spring semester with a full load of classes, and so many kid things on the agenda, seven credits and the beach are going to feel like a dream.

I get to venture into the world of anthropology and algebra (nice alliteration) this semester. My algebra is considered remedial, and that is just fine. I've long since come to the conclusion that it's okay to not know stuff. It is simply an opportunity to learn. My anthropology is a basic freshman course, and hopefully will be as easy as it seems.  Both professors are old. We're talking they've already retired and come back to teach once in a while for fun with their hearing aids on old.  And that's okay, too. They've got more stories than I can imagine and with every story I learn a little bit more about other world views, and understanding their stories, or yours, helps me understand my own.


Last semester brought me happy grades. Grades that I worked really hard for, but oh so worth all that work. It gave me a new understanding about what I am capable of, and today, that understanding gives me the best world view I can imagine. The one that tells me I can do anything!

Life Support

It's been a long day, an even longer week, and this semester.....well you can imagine. So in light of my fatigue, this will be short and sweet. I have a wanted to spend this week immersed in my studies, instead I have been the mom. Grocery shopping, babysitting, soccer games, homework, library trips, car pool, prom, and so much more. I've done all the things that support the life of my family.  I've said it before and I'll say it again that the reason I'm doing this is for my family. So in my moments of resentment, the ones when I wish there wasn't so much to pull me away from studying for my finals, I try to remember that. This is for my family, and I am happy to offer life support as needed.

All out

When I was in high school I ran. I was a sprinter, and I loved it. The key to a good sprint is to go all out, past the finish line. If you slow down before the finish line, you will inevitably be passed and lose the race. Last year I accomplished a longtime goal and ran the bolder Boulder. If you are familiar with the race, you know that it is anything but a sprint. It's a ten kilometer race, that's more than six miles. My only goal was to jog the whole thing, and I did just that. I was surrounded by thousands of people yet I was completely alone. It was exhausting and exhilarating, but some of the same rules I learned in high school still applied during this long distance run. Although it didn't matter to anyone else, it mattered to me that I ran all out past the finish line. At this point in my life it wasn't about winning the race, but about giving all I could, and knowing that I gave my all. It could have been easy to dwell on all those that ran the bolder Boulder so much faster than I did. Instead, I tried to focus on what I had accomplished, how hard I had trained and worked to be able to run the whole ten kilometers

It has been a weird few days emotionally. I am counting down to finals. In just over one week I will finish my first semester back to school. It seems to be an odd combination of decompression, depression, and exhaustion.  I've been so crazy busy for so long that as things wind down it's easy to want to walk (or crawl) through the finals finish line. I know much of what I'm feeling is exhaustion, but I know that there is an element of fear as well. Finals are important, they are literally about proving all you've learned, and I can't help but worry that all I've done may not be enough.  If I have learned anything this semester it is this;  I am capable of much more than I often believe. I can't say that I'm running a sprint, I know that school is more of a long distance kind of thing, but my life experiences tell me that if I can hold out for just a little longer, and move past the finish line- past my fears, I won't have any regrets, no matter what grades I achieve.

Counting down....

I have two weeks and two days before my first semester of school is over.  I'm as harried and as busy as I was at the beginning of the semester, but now it feels more normal.  Sometimes I still wonder if I'm crazy as I attempt to keep up with it all, but then I think about how much I love looking in a microscope during Bio lab,  or that sense of satisfaction that comes when I've finished a rough draft even if it's at four in the morning.

My very good friend very delicately asked me if I recognized that my life could be easier if I said no a little more often and yes a little less often. If I said no to my children's extra curricular activities or took less credits, or anything. I know she's right, but the look of joy on their faces, their own sense of satisfaction that comes from being part of a team, and all the rest that comes with all we do, is worth a little extra craziness.

As I wrap up this semester, I look back and hope that I have focused on the good rather than the discouraging. I know that difficult does not equal bad, in fact it's quite the opposite in this case. It has been difficult to go back to school, but every moment has been worth it. Every moment, easy or hard, means I'm a little closer to fulfilling the dream I had to let go of eighteen years ago so that I could work on the other dream. The one that involves a great husband and seven amazing children.

Unfashionable fashion

Tonight I spent a lot of hours, I mean a lot, drafting a position/ argument paper for my English 121 class. I haven't had to write this kind of paper for a long time. I was incredibly intimidated by it. The assignment is to draft a letter to someone or some organization addressing a specific issue and taking a stand against it. I chose to write to the Fashion Houses.  I vacillated quite a bit as I was trying to figure out who the BEST audience/ recipient of this letter would be. I settled on the fashion houses because all my research indicates that they are the starting point. They build the clothes in impossibly small sizes, then they pass said clothes on to the magazines to use for fashion spreads. They only pass on the runway sample sizes because it is very expensive to make these clothes and they can't sell them once they've been worn on the runway, therefore the magazines exhibit the clothes in those impossibly small sizes, because that is all they are given by the fashion houses. When we are only exposed to one kind of image we get used to that image, and all others become foreign and undesirable. I felt like I was studying this vicious and ugly circle, one that perpetuates itself and we sit back and not only watch it, we enjoy it.

I can not tell you how disturbing it has been to me to research the effects of media, not just on girls, but on women as well. We are all susceptible to the belief that for some reason the girl in the magazine or in a TV show or anywhere, really, is better than we are.  I have said it before, and I'll say it again, our worth is intrinsic. Please be aware of all the ways our society tries to tell us that we are worthy only if.... As the advertising moguls have said, if you want people to buy your product you must first create a problem and then fix it for them. 

Please, never buy into the myth that has been created by this industry, the myth that says you're only cute enough, beautiful enough, hot enough, whatever enough, if you are the same size as the girls on the cover, or if you can wear the right clothes or be the right person because of some external, transient thing. Please remember that every day it is our responsibility to teach our children of their worth. If we don't teach them someone else with a very different agenda will teach them instead.

Totaled

I feel like I talk a lot about perspective in this blog. I got a little help this weekend remembering what is really worth while. While I try desperately to keep up with kids, housework, church, and school my husband works really hard to support us. He has a full time job and a part time job on the week-ends.

Friday night, as he traveled to work, a seventeen year old boy pulled out in front of Jeff.  Jeff had seen him stopped at the stop sign and then didn't think any more of him .... at least not until the impact.  Both cars were totaled, both guys walked away. As I drove that night to pick him up from the sight of the accident a thousand what ifs crossed my mind.  What if it had been worse..... What if I had to do everything without him

 Once in a while I complain. I complain about his schedules, the way he spends his free time, yadda, yadda, yadda. I just complain. When I got to the scene of the accident and saw the shape of his Jeep, I decided that maybe I should practice appreciating more than I practice complaining. Here are some things I appreciate about my sweetheart:

-He's generous. Have I mentioned my brother is living in our basement. He gives of himself in so many ways. He volunteers to  teach hunter-education for the state of Colorado. He volunteers for the CBA and edits the bi-monthly magazine. He supports my crazy life and schedule, and holds me when it starts to overwhelm me.

-He works really hard. When he was in college he worked full time and studied full time. He works two jobs to support us. He always has, and I have no doubt that he always will.

-He irons his own shirts. What this really means is that I don't have to.

-He takes the morning drive almost every day so I can sleep in after staying up way to late to study or to just veg. How grateful I am. If I had to get up and stay up every day at five am I'd be a basket case. Those extra hours of sleep make all the difference.

I'm a proponent of recognizing what you have, but events like this can't help but remind me even more poignantly that what we have could be taken from us at any time. A car, we'll replace that. Replacing the love of my life would be asking the impossible. I'm glad he's safe.

Here's to the end of the perpetual writing block

A few weeks ago our English class had a discussion about what makes good writing. One gentleman titled his post, Writing about writing....it's a viscous cycle.   Yet here I am writing about writing. I find it fascinating to see my children struggle with some of the same things I struggled with as a girl. I remember worrying that I did not have an interesting enough topic, or I couldn't think of anything at all.  When I was eleven I must have complained about being bored one summer day. I remember my mother handed me a legal pad and a pencil and told me to go out and write something, a story, anything. She obviously believed that I could. I didn't believe I could. I must have sat out in the grass for hours. I never got past 'It was a dark and stormy night'. That was probably the beginning of what I could call a perpetual writers block.  When I went to college, the first time, I remember writing to a prompt to see what level of English I would take as an eighteen year old freshman. I had a conversation with the girl sitting at the table with me. She really wanted the 200 level class. I really didn't. I saw her a few months later on campus and asked how she had done, she was disappointed and hadn't gotten into the 200 level class. I had.  As I look back this is a pretty good representation of my writing history. All around me people tell me that I should, could, ought to be, a writer, and I am filled with self doubt.  I don't have the ambition to write for anything other than fun, but if becoming a better writer is about practice, then I will practice. So here I am on my blog because it's part of an assignment, but I also enjoy it!  

Today I finalized a profile I wrote about a good friend. The profile had to support my thesis from a previous assignment. As I interviewed her she said something so good I had to share, “Being a perfectionist is really about insecurity; being insecure is about fear; and fear is about not having faith.”   As I write this I recognize the need for me to have faith in myself. That's a tall order for me, but I'm working on it - everyday. When I logged on I looked at my last post from March 13. I was trying to get ready for a couple of big tests that day and felt really overwhelmed. I know without a doubt that what I said was true, my worth does not come from my grade, but I'm happy to report a 98% on my lecture exam, and a 100% on my lab practical. Hard work pays off, and so does believing in myself.

Worthy

Today this is where I'm starting because it's the least stressful item on my to-do list.  I have a big lecture exam in Bio 111 tomorrow. I have a big lab practical in Bio 111 tomorrow, as well. For all my efforts to let go of perfectionism, this is the kind of week I struggle with the most. Intellectually I know I just have to work hard and let go, but I have goals that depend on how well I do in classes like Bio.  If I want to be accepted into a nursing program a B just won't cut it. This is a tough concept for a recovering perfectionist.  In some moments I feel overwhelmed with the sheer volume of information that I need to learn. It can be difficult to move forward. In other moments I think I've already spent so much time on trying to learn everything that deciding what to do next becomes an enigma because I don't know what will be the most valuable. 

I know I will figure this out. I felt similar before the first test, but it was smaller, and on easier concepts, I worked hard and got an A. This is a  like so many things in life. It's relatively easy to not be a perfectionist if your opinion is the only one that matters, it's a lot harder when your work will be graded and used to demonstrate not just your proficiency, but also quite possibly your worth, at least in this  capacity. 

There is the bottom line, the thing to remember. My worth doesn't come from my grades any more than it comes from having a clean house, or a small butt (never have, never will). My worth is intrinsic. In the end I will get it all done, or not, I will pass with flying colors, or not, but my worth won't change. I won't be defined by my successes or my failures.  My worth is already established, this test won't change it.

Happy Birthday

Tomorrow, or if we are to get technical, in two hours, My baby girl will turn five.  Her due date was February 28th. She was born on March 5th. You could possibly imagine how uncomfortable I was. She was my seventh child. On a pretty regular basis I had to say things like, "She'll be here by May" (said with a smile- OK maybe it was a grimace) just so I didn't panic about her being overdue. When you're more than a week overdue every day feels like eternity. As I look back on her birth, the blessings I received are so apparent.  I was in the hospital for eleven minutes before she was born. That may not seem like a blessing to you, but it was for me. I wanted a birth with as little intervention as possible. I got it. I labored slow enough at home that we weren't sure she would be born on March 5th, but my contractions sped up for a little while and then slowed down again. That meant that my Mom and one of my best friends could be present for her birthday party. And man, what a party we had! I brought my four oldest children to see their baby sister be born. She was healthy, and we were all happy and in awe of that timeless, amazing process.

We still are. Happy, I mean. In so many ways happiness comes down to the basics like health. It also is about recognizing the good things. I know, I know, we all watched that Oprah 10 years or so ago about gratitude journals, but really, good principles never go out of style. Gratitude is a good principle.

Tonight my heart is full of gratitude for each of my sweet children, not just our baby. I have a lot of blessings: my marriage to a man I'm so in love with, my home that I waited seventeen years to buy, a house full of laughter,  good friends that offer supportive shoulders to cry on and listening ears and fun, a God that loves me and helps me feel that love everyday, a really good mind that I can expand and grow. And so, so, many more things.  On this day to celebrate my baby's birth and hopefully on many other days, I can see these things SO clearly. I hope you, too, are blessed with this kind of clarity, the kind that produces smiles and an increase of love for all those around you.

Happy Birthday.

The wee hours

I wonder what the allure of the wee hours really is. Is it the quiet. Is it the last vestiges of childhood; certainly I'm not the only one with memories full of the dreaded bedtime. Is it that I'm so used to having my head full of to do lists, chores, assignments, budgeting, kids schedules, menus, shopping, writing, cell membrane transport systems (yes, that is what I'm studying in bio) and so, so  much more that it's hard to turn my brain off.  I can't blame school work tonight. I got it done hours ago.

Tonight I picked up a book I bought months ago, and I just finished it. I try really hard to live with acceptance of, and to take responsibility for, all my choices.  I think guilt is a useless emotion that hinders more than it will ever help, but I feel a little guilty for reading for the past few hours instead of doing something "productive". Now, if you and I were having this conversation face to face, I'd be able to say all the right things. "I know it's good to do something for myself", and "One night of reading will not make a difference in the long run", things like that. I can't help but wonder though, will it make a difference? Is this the best thing I could have chosen? The answer to both is, probably not. It's one a.m. again and that's okay. My day tomorrow will be a little less stellar because of course I'll be tired and  I will eventually have to do that which I put off. Sometimes though, it feels good to do what I want to do, not what I have to do, even if that want is just reading a silly novel.

Twitchy me

Time heals all wounds, and almost all stresses.I feel much better than I did a few days ago. I'm not deluding myself, this next week will bring it's own set of challenges. But, in retrospect last week's challenges weren't that bad. The kids and I tackled the house, and made living here a little bit more pleasant.  I got a 93% on my bio test, yay me!  I took my Spanish test, and although grades aren't back yet, I think it went OK. I'm settling into a groove and the studying doesn't seem quite as foreign. Last week I joined a gym and even went four times. I was tired of talking about stress management, and not doing anything. I actually wrote my English paper. It was totally intimidating. Not because I don't think I can write, but because I want to do well, and when there are specific parameters for a paper I get concerned that I can't or won't be able to follow directions. Did you know that about me? I really despise doing what I'm told. I collect cookbooks, but make my own recipes. I try to eat healthy, but can't go more than three hours trying to follow a "food plan". For reasons that have not been fully explored, I really hate being told what to do. So, It always feels like a big accomplishment when I follow directions. I even submitted my paper. I almost forgot to do that, there is probably a profound life lesson in there somewhere, but I haven't dug that deep quite yet. I hope this week I can add another positive habit, and that the twitch in my eye goes away, but I'm kind of afraid that it will be a while before that happens!

Doubt is part of the process, I guess.

Today I feel guilty. My house is a wreck. I'm torn between cleaning it and writing my paper and studying for my Spanish test. I have a stupendous headache, and I'm sure many of the emotions bubbling to the surface are hormone induced. If you don't know what I mean, well, lucky you.

I went out for valentines day with my sweetie last night and had a great time until I let those feelings of guilt and worry about being away from the kids, again, filter in and turn things a bit sour. It's tough for me to reconcile two things I know are right, but seem to conflict. Logically I know the kids are doing fine. My oldest children are able bodied and willing to support me in this endeavor I call school. I worry a lot about putting too much on their young shoulders. Will too much responsibility turn into a burden, or will it help them learn life lessons that only responsibility can teach?  I imagine this is what every mother struggles with ultimately. The need to teach our children and the desire to protect them.   I worry about the things that only a mother notices. If I'm so caught up in tests, papers, class, discussion boards and assignments am I really capable of catching those things that only a mother notices. I worry about the things I will inevitably let slip through the cracks and won't realize until it's obvious, and obviously way to late.

In about a weeks time I'll feel better. I always do, if you know what I mean. I'll be more optimistic and less whiny and worried.  I even feel better having gotten some of this out of my head. For now though. I'll just thank you for listening to my hormone induced worry. I'm grateful to my English professor for the assignment to blog. Until I sat down to write this I hadn't even acknowledged exactly how I was feeling. I used a dozen tissues, and cried for a while as I processed emotionally. Maybe you all know exactly what creates your anxiety, but I am usually to busy to stop and just feel.  Writing about these things forces me to feel them, and while I know they are deeply personal, I don't begin to imagine I'm unique in my worries.

For anybody who has gone through this journey, or is going through it, I'd love to hear your stories, advice, and encouragement.

Thanks,
Brenda

What's really Hard.

I wanted to feel sorry for myself yesterday.  I was feeling overwhelmed. I have two papers to do, one needs to be written in Spanish, thank you very much. I also have two exams on Monday, and a ton of everyday work for each class. OK, a ton is an exaggeration. I found myself thinking, THIS IS HARD!

Then I got to thinking about what is truly hard. Going back to school to fulfill a lifelong dream isn't hard. It's an opportunity. Not living your dreams, now that's hard. Writing a paper, no matter what language isn't hard, intimidating yes, but not really hard. Never overcoming fear, that's hard. Cooking dinner every night feels hard, but it's not nearly as hard as having nothing to cook. Balancing my family life and my school life, well it's kind of hard. Not as hard as not having a family, though. That would be truly hard. 

You see where I'm going with this don't you.  Enjoying life is all about perspective. Yesterday I had to chose which perspective I wanted to see life from. I hope I chose the best perspective. It takes a little bit of introspection, and a lot of letting go, but I really believe it's worth the time and effort to figure out what's truly hard, and what's an opportunity waiting to be recognized and embraced.

Discovering....myself.

My English text says that we write to discover what we have to say. I hope this is true as I wonder if what I have to say means anything. Of course the person it means the most to is me.  I'm learning a little bit more about myself every time I sit and contemplate what I should share, whether it's here on the blog or in the discussions we have in class. 
This week has been a little easier than last week. I've made myself go to bed earlier. I watched an episode of a favorite show. Today I took kids to the park, instead of starting on my Bio assignment. If I let myself I could become totally obsessed with all that I have to do. What I've decided to do is to let go of the obsession and shoot for consistency. Hard, I know! I think being consistent is always going to be harder for me than being obsessed.  If you've ever been obsessed with something you know as well as I that it brings fabulous short term results, exhaustion and burnout relatively quickly. I'm here for the long haul, this is going to take 4 years.  I can't afford to get burnt out, and I can't live the rest of my life if I'm always exhausted, and if  I get right down to the heart of the matter I'm doing this to enhance the rest of my life. Not to replace it, not to overwhelm it, not to forget about it, and certainly not to hurt it.  I know that things will have to change in my day to day routine, but some of those changes are long over due. I've read enough novels for a life time. It's OK to replace those with textbooks for a while. I've watched way more TV than is probably healthy. I can check out discussion boards for a while instead.  The time I have available now is precious, so I'll spend it on precious things, like outings to the park, conversations with teenagers and family dinners. The old stand-byes are still going to be there when I finish,and even when I'm desperate for an alternate reality for an hour, but if all goes as planned I'll have other things to do with my time after I'm done with school.

Do you have a credo?

For my English class I had to research and share my thoughts about credos. I liked the whole idea of a credo as I read about it. I'd like to think that underneath the layers of me, the mommy, the wife, the friend, the reader, - all of it's influenced by my core beliefs about the world and why we are here, that although I haven't written one yet, you can look at my life and see what my credo would say. The following is a portion of what I wrote.

I think a credo is a fascinating way to look at belief. As I did this research it was interesting to see so many different belief systems, working toward good things, but different end goals. 
As I interpret my research a credo is a statement of religious belief. I really enjoyed this statement by Jaroslav Pelikan "But, at some point, you have to be who and what you are in the only culture in which you're ever going to live, the only century in which you're going to live and die, and, in that century, you have to answer with whatever linguistic and philosophical equipment you have, you have to answer the question: "Who do you say that I am?"" This embodies the idea of a creed for me. We have to decide for ourselves, as some point in our lives, what is really worth spending our time, energy and resources on. Without some kind of belief system we can be buffeted about by any change in the political, social, or emotional climates that are all around us.
If we use the definition that a credo is a religious belief then it's hard to imagine bad intent. That being said, I have no doubt that countless people have excused their bad behaviors or choices with their so called religious beliefs.  In that way credo can be divisive rather than positive forces for good.
 In an interview on "The Need for Creeds," Jaroslav Pelikan suggests, "in the darkest hours of life, you've got to believe something specific, and that specification is the task of the creed, because, much as some people may not like it, to believe one thing is also to disbelieve another. To say yes is also to say no." Would you agree that human societies need creeds?
I do agree with his assertion that we all need creeds. Because what I think he is really saying is we need something to believe. Nor do I argue with Pelikan's statement that to believe in one thing is to disbelieve another. I think that this is a universal truth.  The key for me is to understand my beliefs, and to share them as they are welcomed, but to let go of judgement for those that do not believe as I do.  Am I always successful? No. I wish I was. Will I keep trying? Yes. Because that is part of my unwritten credo. 

Brenda

Lessons from week one.

It's been almost a full  week since I started all three classes. I'm tired but feeling encouraged. Points to take note of:

-I haven't been to bed before midnight once this week, but if I'm being totally honest that's not very different than before I started school. The difference is how I'm spending my time when I stay up. 
-I finished all the assignments due for the week so that I can have a relaxing sabbath focusing on my family, and revitalizing my spirit. Hopefully recharging enough to do it all over again next week.
-Doing my Spanish assignments and understanding them are 2 different things.
-Most things are not "spelled out" for me. There is a lot to figure out on my own.
-My kids are going to need to practice their cooking skills more often. Glad I've taught them!
-Three nights away from home in a row is hard, I may have to give up some of my extras, like book club until this semester is over. Possibly longer.
-It's OK to take a day off if you are caught up. I didn't study a thing on Thursday and it was good to focus on family.
-I could let myself feel guilty about my cute 4 year old watching to much TV while I did biology homework, but I won't because guilt doesn't change anything. She and I will need to balance homework and regular life.
-Chocolate doesn't make the studying any easier. It just makes it feel less hard.



Our ability to learn

 Last Wednesday was my first day of class, and my first homework assignment. At the end of that night I found myself scared witless and wondering if I was smart enough to figure out what was being asked, forget about the answers. It took me what seemed like hours to do that assignment- which was worth 5 whole points.  Today I also took hours to do this weeks assignment-another 5 points thank you very much- but it felt different. It felt a bit more like a treasure hunt, looking for that perfect nugget of information that would answer my question. OK, it was the professors question, but I really wanted to know the answers as well. It's so amazing that in a weeks time, I've turned a small corner, that what felt so so difficult became less difficult.
Spanish is similar. My children have been speaking simple phrases to me for a couple of years now. Sometimes my response would be frustration, the I don't speak Spanish so answer me in English please, kind of frustration. Sometimes my responses were more inquisitive, what was that word-how do you spell it-how do you say it again, kind of inquisitive.  After just 4 days of working on assignments some things are starting to click.
I would have said that I was a learner. Books are, and always have been a daily part of my life. I like brain games like sudoku. I have discussions about books and life with friends, but being back in school is teaching me that I am capable of so much more than I ever thought I was. I think we all the ability to be more than we ever though we could be.  Going back to school has unlocked a small portion of my potential, what could unlock yours?

It's one a.m. again...

I knew going back to school would be a challenge, but this feels a little bit crazy.  This is the third night in a row that I've stayed up past one am.  It's just so quiet, and there is just so much to do.

I have 13 credits this semester. I needed three classes no matter how I sliced it, so I went for a full load. I'm not regretting it, not at all. I just had no idea what it really meant in terms of time. I also forgot what it's like to use my higher thinking skills. (is that real, or did I just make that up?)   Reading a Bio textbook is so....nap inducing, yet I feel so excited when I stay awake AND understand it.  Perhaps this will change. I have a few friends who tell me that this enthusiasm for good grades will wane with time, I'm not sure I believe them. I have a lot of future plans that depend on doing this well, and I've waited too long to be here to give it any less than my best shot.

I still think sleep is a really good thing. I may or may not figure out a different study schedule.  If I don't I may crash and burn, but right now, this first week, this is working. I'm keeping up, and I'm getting it.
That feels really good.

It's been a while...

Here I am. Thirty eight years old and I'm back in school. I got married when I was eighteen, and we went off to college together. We had a baby, I took a break for a semester and then re-enrolled. I  had to quit when I almost miscarried a second time.  I was 12 weeks pregnant and on bed rest when we decided I would finish finals and not enroll for the next semester. What I knew, and promised myself was that I would go back someday when the time was right.  I've waited half a lifetime for the time to be right, and here I am 18 years almost exactly since I made that decision. I like my life. My husband and I have been through so much, and we're still very much in love.  We now have seven children. I'm busier than I ever imagined I could be. Despite every blessing, I've never stopped wanting to get my education. It took almost that full 18 years to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, but I think that's finally clear as well.  When I'm finished with prerequisites, I'll apply to the nursing program. That's all a ways away.  This blog will fill an assignment for my English class, but perhaps it will also serve as inspiration and support to someone else who also wants to take this journey.