Growing Up

I read this blog about 20 somethings. It's funny, it's interesting, and most of all I'm completely shocked at how accurately it describes my life. Sometimes a post is exactly how I feel on the inside, only I didn't know how to put words to it. Much less thought that someone else could be going through exactly what I'm going through.

This post was especially spot on. With the exception that I'm still living at home instead of moved out on my own, but basically it describes feelings that I didn't know how to explain. Growing up is not an easy thing to do, and no one leads you to believe it is.

But it is also so much harder than anyone can ever tell. You will change in so many ways that at first you won't understand. Not only are you becoming yourself, but your parents are also learning how to let you go.

There are things I don't know how to tell my parents. Like I don't feel like I need their advice anymore, but that sounded too harsh to me. Because sometimes I do need to hear what they have to say. Going back to that post though, it's okay for me to not need their advice. I have to learn to make my own choices, whether they agree with them or not.

Mostly, I really just want to hear that everything is going to be okay. That I am going to make it in this world. I beat myself up enough as it is, and I just want reassurance that things are gonna be just fine and someone somewhere is proud of me. That's not to say that my parents aren't telling me that they're proud or they love me, because they do. And they're awesome at it. Most of the time.

There was a moment in the kitchen the other day between me and my dad. We don't always have the greatest relationship, but he's my dad and he loves me. He's got this thing he does, where if you are disappointed about something he has this fake little crying whimper noise he makes. I'm really good at imitating it if you ever want to hear it sometime. He uses it to make fun of you, because what you're disappointed about isn't that big of a deal. Sometimes his timing is comedic and sometimes it makes you want to punch him.

I was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter talking to my mom. You see, there are these beautiful puppies that we want to buy. Two of them, one for me and one for TheMechanic and TheSister. The little black balls of fuzz are 100 dollars apiece and I'm not sure I have the money to buy my own. This little dog has my heart, guys. She's adorable and I've already named her and now I just need to commit and save the money and do what it takes.

My dad waltzed in to the kitchen during our conversation and I fully expected him to pull that fake crying whimper move like always because I was complaining. I wasn't really excited to hear the huh-huh-huh sniffle sniffle boo hoo hooing so I braced myself and got on the defensive.

Apparently he was only going in for a hug. And he was also somewhat offended that I didn't know that's what he was doing. What can I say? Old habits die hard. But he's trying to change our relationship. It needs to change. We can't keep doing this dance anymore. This dance where we get along one moment and not the next.

I don't need my parents to parent me anymore. But that's what they've done for my whole life, it's what comes natural to them. Changing that is going to be a rough and tumble process. It hurts and it's messy and there's no user's manual or book you can read to magically make everything all better for everyone. There is one thing I know though, it won't be this way forever and someday we'll figure it all out. And then we'll look back on this and laugh. Huge rolling belly laughter. The kind that makes you cry and wake up the next day with sore abs. That's the best kind of laughter, in my opinion. The very best kind.

Two Weeks Notice

I have two weeks left before the graduation service in the Kibbie Dome at the good ole U of I two hours south of where I am currently residing. That blows my mind. I can't believe this journey is almost over. In August of 2008 I was a 17 year old baby, just moved out of the house and into a dorm room and around 8:20 on a warm summer morning I was about headed to English 101 - the first college class I would ever attend.

The sidewalk was full of life. Students bustling to their morning classes, starting off the school year with a bang. I remember walking in the sea of people and thinking that each and every person I passed knew I had just graduated high school and that I didn't belong there. It was almost as if I was trying to fool myself. My stomach was a ball of emotion - nerves, excitement, and that feeling that if I stood still and locked my knees that I might just faint.

With time it got easier. I started to feel comfortable with my life, with being on my own. I could make my own decisions, I was responsible for only myself. My last few semesters down in M-town I was starting to come into my own. And then it was time to leave.

I don't think I've ever wanted to stay at school more in my life. Pulling myself out of that environment, away from people I knew and loved, and starting a new adventure was enough to make my stomach turn and my mind try to convince myself that I didn't want to teach, actually. I briefly considered changing majors again so that I would have to stay in Moscow, but ultimately I made the decision to follow through with student teaching and I begrudgingly packed up my tiny apartment and moved back in with my parents.

That alone brought on a whole new brand of problems and experiences in my life. Moving back into the house with my parents and siblings proved to be a tough assignment and more than once I cried and wished for the millionth time that I could have just stayed in college. It was an interesting transition, but it's all a part of growing up. Learning to make my own choices and reforging a relationship with my parents where I am an adult and not a child. It is a long process in which one or both parties wants to shoot the other one while simultaneously hugging them and holding on tight while also resisting the urge to pull out all their hair.

But then, everything in my path has led me to where I am now. My relationships, good and bad, have brought me to this place. God has had his hand on my life and He has never left my side, even when I didn't make the choices that I should have. And so, here I am. Two weeks left. One journey is ending and another is beginning. A wave of transition, that honestly feels more like a full blown ocean sometimes.

Scary and exciting. Overwhelming and thrilling. A new beginning. A career instead of an education. A life with a retirement fund and life insurance instead of coffee drinks and homework. A future full of adventures I have never been on and undiscovered possibilities.

turkey season

For the last four years my Thanksgiving break was a week long, but previous to that it was around four days. Since I'm back to public school break schedule, I no longer get a week off. It was a little disappointing, but you know. I survived. I'm just not ready for school to start back up on Monday yet. Someone should award me more time off because I'm so awesome.

I kid, I kid.

Not like this year is different from any other year in terms of what I'm thankful for, but I'm thankful for my family. They are some of the greatest, awesomest, loveliest people I know. I'm thankful for a God who will always love me no matter what mistakes I make or options I choose, and who is always looking out for me. I'm thankful for friends  who will always be there for me and conversations that bring us closer together.

But mostly, I'm thankful for the crazy beautiful life that God has given me and all the adventures that I get to go on with people I love.

And pie. Specifically apple.

Jokes! ...but seriously...dudes, pie.

you never are

I was trying to decide whether I should write a post about my new job that has life insurance, a retirement fund and is the most money per hour I've ever made in my life or if I should talk about what I'm thankful for this year when this song came on my Pandora radio station. And it kind of spoke directly to my heart. I had to stop what I was doing and just listen.

Lost your way and you don't know how it happened
so much time you wasted chasing satisfaction
seems like there's no where else to go please i wish that you would come home

Oh don't be so afraid
you think that you're too far
but you never are you never are
so scared that you're too late
too hidden in the dark
but you never are you never are

Grace is under estimated all you ever really have to do
is take it god is bigger than the times we fail
so why can we not forgive ourselves

Oh don't be so afraid
you think that you're too far
but you never are you never are
so scared that you're too late
too hidden in the dark
but you never are you never are

You will never be perfect oh but you're still worth it you've gotta just believe

Oh don't be so afraid
you think that you're too far
but you never are you never are
so scared that you're too late
too hidden in the dark
but you never are you never are

well hi there

The library is a place for grand adventure. All those books, you know? And yet, here I sit. In front of a computer screen. My right eyelid twitches off and on again, but rubbing it doesn't seem to help. I don't know what to write about anymore, but I feel like there's got to be something out there I can grasp on to. Something that could possibly hold my attention for more than two paragraphs.

Because lately, that's all the farther I get. Two paragraphs.

This library, this place of my existence for nearly two periods of the school day is a safe haven of sorts. It's quiet and friendly. It smells like old books, and I do love me some old book scent. It is a comforting smell in my crazy world. And let me just tell you, my world has been the craziest of the crazy without the whole ending up in a mental institution with a straight jacket and nervous tick. Although I'm probably only one meltdown shy of ending up there.

My students in first period have been the worst. I swear they are going to drive me to drink in the near future. With the throwing things and the crazy comments, you'd think I didn't know what I was doing. And maybe sometimes I don't. Confrontation is not my most favorite thing in the world, but I'll tell you what. I am learning. Be mean, they said. It'll help, they said.

Did I believe them? Not really. Is it true? You better believe it. Am I mean? Not nearly mean enough. But give me time.

It's not only the students that make me want to pull out all my hair though, it's definitely more than that. It's things like making decisions where no matter what choice you make someone will be disappointed. You really have to decide who you are willing to disappoint and who you aren't. What are you willing to risk and what is too important to put off. I suppose this is all a part of growing up, but sometimes things are harder than I think they will be.

I'm wrestling with something I've never struggled with before. Feeling like a failure, feeling unimportant, feeling like I'm no good, and feeling like no matter which way I turn I am wrong. It's almost as if I've been put in this maze filled with fire and you have to figure your way out of the maze while everyone is watching on the television and laughing at every choice you make.

Mostly I don't know what to do, so I just do what I think is correct. Sometimes people agree and sometimes they don't and that's something I'm learning to deal with. I can't make everyone happy. That's hard. But I do know how to make everyone mad. That's easy.

This year was all about exploring life, and well, I guess that means exploring the miserable along with the interesting. But I know that it's not going to be this way forever, and right now I'm just gonna put my head down and keep pushing through. That's about all I can do, I suppose.