January 25, 2015

Hello, friends.

I was on the phone with my mother this morning. I hadn't really spoken with her in weeks--since I'd been home for Christmas. Sure, there was a text here and there, but nothing significant. She delved into recent stories of the new semester (she's a high school teacher and a nana who's somehow taken charge of raising my nephews, but that's another post): the heartfelt words and stories from her students in ALE, the freezing camping trip she endured over the weekend for the boys to get their scout badge, the childhood friends she had recently ran into while visiting Grandma. Several times she would ask me, "well, what's been going on--besides work and school, obviously?"

And I would have to tell her, that's it. There's nothing else to say. 

I work full-time with foster kids, and I'm steadily going back to school, two classes at a time, to earn my Master's in Clinical Mental Health Counseling--and in Arkansas, they don't joke about their CACREP standards. Between both of these responsibilities, there's rarely a quantifiable amount of energy left--and what is left is spent mindlessly absorbing Netflix, throwing scraps of tennis balls for my demon-dog to fetch, or convincing my nearest and dearest man-friend to teach me how to fix something on the 1950s farmhouse I bought a few months ago. 
the cleverly placed blanket on the wingback hides Kafka's separation anxiety

So naturally, I'm very busy, and even more so, I'm very tired. But I am very proud of what I'm currently working on. My career is incredibly fulfilling (if not infuriating at times), not to mention I work alongside an amazing treatment team, and with some of the world's most compassionate, self-less families. And this keeps me sane and motivated enough to continue my education so I can earn that LPC and move on up in the world (and in my non-profit world, any upward motion is appreciated).
So I'm happy with my current plan, it feels right. 


Having said that, it was like a slap in the face to not have any kind of updates for my mom. I hadn't talked to her in weeks, why wasn't it easy to come up with some interesting and/or fun activities I had participated in to tell her about? Something in the near future I'm excited about? Something stimulating I had learned during class at least? Nothing more than my excitement at finding Zachary's vanilla creme drops (and a very large tennis ball I'm hoping my fur-child Kafka will have a harder time destroying than the average size) at a tractor supply store, which I'd already shot her a picture of yesterday. 





I realized I needed to slow down. If I couldn't think of one meaningful thing that had happened to me recently (which unfortunately can't include the delectable pan of homemade chicken enchiladas smothered in sour cream sauce I'd been eating off of all week), it didn't matter if I was content with my current life plan. I need to slow down and take notice of what's happening in my own life, I need to be able to reply with more than "work and school" when old friends trying to catch up ask me what I'm up to. 

So that is my lengthy explanation of why I'm here. That, and particularly dreadful weather is all the more reason to begin a new blog. I hope to explore that which I'm grateful for, share tidbits of and continue to discover my own life philosophy, post silly pictures of my dog and quote ridiculous things I overhear children say, discuss the struggles of belonging to the millennial generation and first time home owner bandwagon, and maybe, just maybe squeeze in the synopsis of an adventure or two.

Welcome. Grow up and flourish with me. 

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