Looking back before moving forward

I have been a sentimental schlep for the last week. Although I still have a final and a paper to complete sometime within the next two weeks, law school is pretty much over. It has been a fast and wild ride, but I am leaving with the same nervous excitement that I came in with. While going through my law school documents on my computer (read: procrastinating studying for my final) I came across my admissions essay:

Two lines. I turned my head in an attempt to make them disappear, but when I looked again the lines were undeniably bold and dark pink. I pressed my head against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, but it brought no relief to my fevered dread. There was no mistaking it. I was 17 and pregnant. Two weeks after my high school graduation, I welcomed my beautiful daughter into the world. As I held her in my arms and looked into her face, a knot within me loosened. With that one look, my fears and uncertainness washed away. I would go on. I would succeed. I would never quit. And I would do it all for us.

I paid for my first two years of college by joining the newspaper staff. On deadline days you could find me in the student publication lab. My daughter was always there with me, napping in a portable playpen or pounding away on an unplugged keyboard. In those first two years of balancing motherhood and college, I was a presidential scholar, Phi Theta Kappa Honors Society member, and editor of a multiple award-winning newspaper. It was never something I thought much about then, simply something I knew I had to do. I chose journalism because it was an area in which I was naturally skilled. While I did enjoy it, as I progressed in my schooling I found that it lacked the passion and purpose I was looking for. I was uncertain of how to change this when the answer came to me from an unlikely source. I started participating in a Teen Moms Program run by a local social service agency. These women were pillars of strength, fighting for survival for themselves and their children, but they were fighting alone. They had been abandoned by their babies' fathers and lacked the financial capabilities to move forward in many aspects. I decided then that I would be that person in their corner. I would join in the fight that they cannot do alone. The first step in that battle was to continue my education, a feat that could not be done where I was located. I had to move away from my comfort zone, the only place I had lived in all of my 20 years. I had no choice but to close my eyes and jump.

Moving to Manhattan, KS turned out to be a wonderful change for myself, my husband and my daughter. Before long we were very active members of the community. We were regulars at the local farmer's market. I shared brownies and ice cream with residents of the nursing home while my daughter performed for them, singing and turning somersaults. We helped to plan neighborhood block parties. We attended football games, plays and community events. It was in Manhattan that my daughter met the love of her life in the form of a grey, fuzzy mascot named Willie the Wildcat. And it was in Manhattan that I finally found my niche; it was there that I took my first steps toward becoming a social worker.

The social work program at Kansas State University kindled my desire to help the young mothers and their children. It ignited in me a drive to help not only these young mothers, but all of thosewho are unable to help themselves. Through this program I learned many skills that will not only help me as a social worker, but as a lawyer as well. I learned that it was no longer suitable to say just what I thought, but to be able to explain why. I learned that asking good questions is a carefully mastered art form. I learned in order to see change, it takes more than wanting; it takes doing. I learned that I am my greatest tool. In the end I learned that the only limits to what I can accomplish are ones I impose upon myself.

It is no miracle I am where I am today. It is instead because of my miracle, my skinned-knee, dirty-faced, pony-tailed miracle, that I continue to strive for more.

I have been thinking a lot about the person who wrote this and the person who will be stepping out in the world with a J.D. displayed proudly behind her name. While I am going in a new direction, my desires and values, at their core, remain the same. I, in no way, could have imagined the path my life would take when I first toyed with the idea of becoming an attorney. Even more so, I could never have imagined that this would be my life on that afternoon in Hays while I sat on the floor of the girls bathroom at Justin's dorm and I saw those two, pink lines.

Perhaps thats a good thing....because while my imagination is good, it could have never dreamed up something this good!

Oh the joys of home selling...

Today went met some friends downtown for a lovely brunch. The timing worked out perfectly because our realtor advised us we needed to be out of the house from 11-1pm while the place was shown. After stuffing ourselves with delish crepes and doing some leisurely window shopping, we had killed enough time to go back to the house and spend the rest of our Sunday relaxing.

When we got home, a phone call modified our plans a bit. The realtor called and let us know someone would be showing our house sometime between 2 and 4. So that we didn't have to go park somewhere and twiddle our thumbs, the realtor nailed the showing down to between 3 and 4...closer to 3:15. It was only about 1:30 at this time, so it gave me a little bit to make sure the carpets were freshly vacuumed and the house was thoroughly fabreezed. Justin says I have a serious addiction to the stuff. I say he is right, but I don't care.

I told you about Addie and her nakedness right? Well during my spruce up, Addison was in the buff enjoying a Dora episode. While in the kitchen putting away my new BFF, Tropical Fabreeze, I here Justin yell out from the living room, "THEY'RE EARLY"

This had the effect of turning the light on in a room full of cockroaches. The four of us started running around like a bunch of crazies, grabbing shoes, jackets and car keys, while three vehicles worth of people stepped onto our porch. It was 2:15.

In the midst of the chaos, Justin scoops up a still naked Addison, yells for Rileigh to grab Addison some clothes, wraps her in a sweatshirt and runs out the garage. I am fumbling around with my shoes, cursing myself for not picking flip-flops. I made a mad dash out the garage and into the car just as the group opens the front door.

I looked in the backseat at my toddler, stark naked, strapped into her car seat as we hauled out of the driveway. Suddenly it hit me at how completely and utterly ridiculous we were. I am not sure what we were running for...or from, I suppose. Guess we didn't want to shatter the illusion that people actually lived in our house.

Ooops, in that case, better jump out and grab those Dora panties we dropped in the middle of the driveway......

Who's that rapping on my napping?

There are few things in life more delightful than an afternoon nap. I had seriously been looking forward to napping this afternoon for the entire week. We had no showings scheduled for the house and I had no school to interfere. Today, I excitedly laid addison down in her bed, plopped down on the couch, and set HGTV on in low volume. I had about 1 hour and 15 minutes until Rileigh was due off the bus. It was the perfect amount of time for a nice nap, but not too much time that I would spend the rest of the day groggy and out of it.

With Color Splash on in the background, I drifted into a wonderful, blissful sleep. About 30 minutes later, I am awoken by a BAM BAM BAM on the door. I jumped straight in the air, my heart racing. Frick! Was there a showing my realtor forgot to tell me about? With my heart in my throat, I frantically toured the house in my head. The house was clean, but not showable clean. My lunch dishes were still in the sink. This was not good. I peeked out the front curtains to see how many people were outside. No cars. I relaxed a little and opened the door to find our 4-year-old neighbor standing outside. I told him we would not be playing and sent him on his merry way. I laid back down, thrilled that was not a showing and even more thrilled that I still had more napping to get in.

Fifteen minutes later, BAM BAM BAM.

I peeked over the edge of the couch towards the front door. I could see the outline of the neighbor boys head through the frosted glass. Screw him. I was not getting up.

BAM, BAM BAAAM.

Seriously, did I not just tell him we were not playing today? And by "we are not playing today" what I meant was, I am not babysitting you as I have done for the last 2 weeks when you ask to come over an play and suddenly end up at my house for the next 4 hours while your parents are doing who-knows-what and never coming to get you and your 4-year-old self and I finally have to send you home because it is time for my kids to go to bed. No, we are not doing that. He moves from banging on the door to tapping on the glass in the door.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The boy kept at it for, I kid you not, a half hour. I am surprised his knuckles were not bloody from his incessant rapping and tapping. Or maybe they were....and that is why he continued knocking...so I could get him a band-aid.

The stubborn streak in me prevented me from getting up, opening the door and telling him to go away. I had already done that once. I figured if I just ignored it, he would eventually go away. I was so very wrong. Next he tried opening the door. Thank goodness it was locked. However, this did not prevent him from trying to jiggle the handle for several minutes. The handle jiggling was followed by him throwing his entire body against my door. The human battering ram would growl as he slammed against my door with all the might a 4-year-old can muster. Between growls he is literally yelling "OPEN THE DOOR. OPEN THE DOOR."

He.

Was.

Relentless.

Finally, after 30 minutes, silence. Sigh. I did a silent victory dance on the couch. I had outlasted him. I laid back down to get in the rest of my nap. But then I hear the screech of brakes outside my house.....which means the bus was home. My nap was officially over.

As soon as Rileigh was through the door, he was back on my porch. OMG, serious? Again, I told him we were not playing. And again he trudged back over to his house.

Oh, and what is that I hear now? Nope, folks, I am not kidding. He is back. A rap, rap, rapping at the door.....

more misadventures of miss addie

oh, the joys of motherhood. short story for your delight....or dismay. its undecided at this point.

my child loves to be naked. she knows no modesty. but, i figure that is okay. less clothes wearing means less clothes washing. i am all for that.

tonight, after her bath, addison was tornadoing through the house, naked as usual. she was playing on the floor next to me just doing her own thing. suddenly, she looked up with me completely distressed.

"momma, my potty is broken! it has a hole in it!"

hmmm....do they make band-aids for that?

Adieu to the Lou, Part Deux

Today, I am less angry. The weather is gorgeous, the house is ready and Cardinal fever is everywhere. Sorry St Louis. You didn't deserve that. As an apology, Here is my list of things I will actually miss when we head on back to the Ol' Windy City....the real windy city...not you Chicago.

1. Cardinals Games. Prior to moving here, I couldn't stand professional baseball. I think this is because baseball doesn't really translate on TV. Nine(+) innings of a relatively slow paced game played for hours and hours just did not tickle my fancy. Then I went to Busch stadium. It was fun. It was more than fun. I loved it. There is nothing that brings a huge city together like a great sports team. The comradery that accompanies Cards games is a sight to behold. Arch enemies outside the stadium root side by side during the games, singing "one.....two....three strikes you're out at the old....ball....gaaaaaaaame!" in perfect harmony. Well, I don't really have an evidence of this, but I am sure it happens. Or if it doesn't, it should.

2. The Zoo. I adore the zoo. What I really adore about the zoo is that it is free. It is huge and awesome and keeps my family entertained for hours upon hours. Unlike the concrete jungle that is the Dodge City zoo, the animals are housed in actual habitats. Once when I took the girls to the zoo, we joined a crowd outside the orangatang habitat. Addison was pretty young at the time. There was a newborn among the crowd. Her parents held her down by the glass so that they could get a picture with the orangatangs in the background. Ooohs and awwws spread over the crowd as the momma orangatang held out her arms and tried to hold the baby through the glass. I wanted to get the girls pictures too. I held addison close to the glass, expecting the same reaction. Instead the crazy thing pulled back its fist and punched the glass, right behind Addison's head. Awww, the memories.

3. Chipotle.....or Noodle Company.....or Dewey's Pizza.....or Ruby Tuesdays....or just the variety of restaurants in general. There are so many restaurants extremely close our house. And even more within driving distance. Although I have complained about this before when trying to narrow down a place to go eat, I don't really mean it. I love food. I love variety in food. If you do too, this is enough of an explanation. If you don't, you are weird.

4. The variety of culture. Last time my inlaws were in town, we went down to the Soulard farmer's market. On the way home, she commented that she thought it was so neat to be surrounded by so many accents and so many different languages. It was so true. While living here I have met people from Russia, Bosnia, Egypt, Brazil, Iraq, Ethiopia, Kenya......and many, many more. I have been able to expose my children to the food and the celebrations of many of these groups. I feel like it is such an important part of raising well-rounded, open-minded children. And the cultural aspects they have been exposed to are not just limited to ethnicities. Every year since we have lived here, Rileigh and my mom have gone to a musical at the Fox during the Thanksgiving break. She has adored this tradition. I suppose the Depot will have to suffice, but somehow I just don't think it will compare to the Lion King or Cats.

So I left this list for a while to try and think of some more things......and I didn't. Shoot. Is that really it? Sorry St Louis.....

Adieu to the Lou

Yes, I know I have used that line before, but I think its pretty clever and I am going to get as much use out of it as I can before the actual adieu.

Due to various contributing factors, I am not feeling the love for St Louis this week. I have the "we-have-a-plan-so-lets-get-the-f-out" itch, so my non-likes about St Louis have become particularly irritating. I have decided to let go of my frustrations in list form, entitled "Things I will not miss about St Louis." So here goes:

Things I will not miss about St Louis:

1. (and although these are in no particular order, this is truly #1) The traffic. For someone who is habitually late, it is a cruel trick that traffic makes going somewhere less than 15 miles away necessitate leaving an hour in advance. Also, I am a non-morning person. Morning traffic is horrific. I have to get up and leave an extra hour to hour and a half early to get where I need to be. And most of the time I am still late. On top of that, I despise most of the morning radio shows so I spend the hour pushing my radio presets trying to determine which station I despise the least. Audiobooks used to make commuting tolerable, but I can only buy so many audiobooks before the hubs starts noticing the cost. Twilight got me through some of my most horrindous traffic moments.

2. Stepford wives. I adore my daughters school, but I have always feel like a troll. To be involved with the school, you must carry your calendar with you at all times, be able to know your schedule 6 months in advance, master being incredibly perky and yet incredibly icy all at the same time, and always carry a set of jumper cables incase your internal wiring goes on the fritz. Seriously. The latest source of my frustration--during spring conferences, the latest available conference time was at 4:30. Four thirty?!? Of course I would have known to pencil that in in between viola lessons and horseback riding if I would have brought my calendar with me last year like a good little Stepford.

3. My driveway. It is steep. I am not sure this would have made the list had I not just spent the weekend walking up and down it repeatedly while holding heavy objects. But I did. And so I won't miss it.

4. Waiting. I think it is clear by now that I was not graced with patience. I think I have improved in this area....begrudgingly. However there are so many people here that waiting is something I have to do a lot of. Want to go to Olive Garden at 7pm on a weekday...there is a wait. Want to go to the grocery store in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday...there is a wait. Really anything you think that you may want to do immediately, think again. Think while you wait.

5. Lack of freedom for my kiddos. Perhaps that is a severe categorization but let me explain. Last summer Rileigh stayed a week with my sister-in-law in jetmore. She got to walk to the pool, go to the store, get snow-cones, ride bikes....whatever....independently. It gave her such a sense of maturity and responsibility. When she gets back to St Louis, she is really only allowed in the backyard by herself. That means lots of QT with mom, great for a while, but I think she gets tired of me.

Relief in the form of list-making. I feel better already.