How many times do you think you have said good-bye in your entire lifetime?  Have you ever thought of that? 10,000 maybe?  A million?  Surely not.  How many good-byes do you think you have left?  Ee Gads.  Hopefully not that many.

I wanted to say, "I am terrible at good-byes."

But do you know anyone who says, "I am awesome at saying good-bye.  Good-byes are awesome."

Surely the answer is no.

For this particular good-bye, I cried. In fact, I was a borderline mess.  It was the kind of thing where you have said your good-byes and are now talking about last-minute everyday mundane things and yet your voice is still shaking.

As if I'm delivering The Worst News Ever instead of simply telling my mom how to water my houseplants.

I'll WaTer ThEm BeFore I LeaVeeeee......bUt ThEy MiGht....NeED....it...Agaiiiiiinnnnnnnn................

Friends.  I don't want to brag, but I used to be a traveling genius, especially before I got married.  Ok. Not a genius, but still...I was pretty good at it.

Taxis in Las Vegas.  The D.C. Metro.  LAX.  The back of a pick-up truck in Central America.

And I don't remember ever shedding a tear upon my departure.

You see.  It is easy.  It was easy.  It is easy when you have so little to lose.

But now, I am married.  There is a tiny baby niece and two of our own fur-babies.

Truthfully?  I wanted to apologize.  I was embarrassed.

However, I would rather cry because I have everything to lose than cry because I have nothing to lose.

Love and sometimes you just need a minute,
H.

Source: theothereugene.tumblr.com via Holly on Pinterest

On knowing Your Moment

In case you didn't know this,  I am moving to Kindergarten.  In case you also didn't know this, moving a classroom is like trying to move a small country.  There are 1,000 things.  1,000 times 1,000.  


After a week of cleaning/packing/unpacking/cleaning, believe it or not, I'm better now.  


Circa...one week ago....     


     There is something very emotional about cleaning out a classroom.  I fell in love with Tim in that room.  I moved out of my parents' house in that room.  I went from "Bierly" to "Young" in that room, and I don't know that I'll ever be back.  I pitched and sorted all kinds of things- things from college, things from my early years of teaching (or am I still IN my early years?  Please say yes).  Things that really, truly needed to be sorted and pitched.  But they were still Things.


You know?


I'm excited about the idea of teaching kindergarten.  I'm nervous.  I'm excited because I love to read, and that's what we do in kindergarten.  We learn to read.  Words like look.  go.  see.


I see a...


I see a...


I


SEE.


Think of all the things those kiddos will see in their lifetimes, and I will teach them how to get it all down on paper.


However, in these anxiety-filled early days of getting used to my new position, I go from a day-dreamy state of...


"I will teach them how to read."


 to a panic-stricken...


"I will teach them how to read!?!?!?!?"


     It's not that I don't have confidence in my abilities.  I do.  It's just that I'm very aware that we have a lot of work to do in a 9 month school year.  Very aware.


     I have come to realize that whether it's pre-school music class or 11th grade chem. lab, teaching is a lot of pressure.  It is hard, and it is important, and it is hard because it is important.

source

     Yesterday,  I thought to myself, "I am going to put on a record and clean the kitchen."  In The Young House, when the mood strikes to CLEAN THE KITCHEN, you take advantage of it.  Honestly, that mood doesn't come about very often.  Sometimes, it gets done because it needs to get done* and sometimes, it decidedly...doesn't.  


     The first few measures of Hey Jude rang out, and at that moment, I very well could have cried Lake Huron. 


 But I held it in.  


I held it in because I knew that if I started then I might not ever stop.  And dinner wasn't going to cook itself.  Isn't it funny, how we can sometimes control it like that?  


Or so we think?


Stress.  The truth is, change is stressful.  Even the good kind.  


This morning, I got in the shower, and I thought to myself, "Now would be a very good time to cry."  I thought it was My Moment.


But, it was too late.  The tears were, as Sabrina Ward Harrison would say, "stuck too far down."


And they have yet to come out.


So, Dear-Future-Maybe-Daughter, I encourage you to cry.  When Your Moment presents itself**, take it. Because, "I'm crying and I just can't stop."  is a whole heck of a lot better than, "stuck."  Take it because, the truth of the matter is- Yes, my love.  Eventually, you will stop.  


All my love, 
Mom


*Sometimes, I like to use the word, "done" even though I know it is supposed to be the word, "finished."  


**And in case you were wondering, Your Moment will appear when you are alone or with someone you have trusted and loved for a long time.  Be brave.  Be bold.  Do not cry when you don't get your way at work or your boyfriend won't hold your purse at Target and claim it is "Your Moment."  That's a lousy excuse to behave badly.  Do not abuse the incredibly cathartic "thing" that is Having a Moment.  Then again, I'm sure I'll have raised you better than that.