I've had one of "those" days when I was seriously tempted to go back to bed at 11:30 and not wake up until the sunrise tomorrow morning. Something within me was just a little of kilter. I couldn't explain it. I didn't even realize it was there until I snapped at my husband while he was home for lunch. He gave me one of those, "I'm really glad we don't have a loaded gun in the house" looks as he went back to work. I washed dishes. I cried. Loudly. And dripped tears in the dish water. The dogs and I went out the front porch and sat in the breeze. I cried. Longer. Louder. Harder. I prayed. I'm a little ashamed of some of what came out of my mouth, but I believe that God understands better than anyone both my heart and my humanity. When my tears traded themselves for a pounding headache, we went back inside. A few hours later I finally realized what was wrong. Someone in my family is giving birth today. I go through this anytime a baby is born to

We... Have... Internet... At... Home...

Some people collect coins. Others collect books. I know a few people who collect ex-spouses. Apparently, I collect exercise DVDs. I have enough DVDs to do a different workout each day for six weeks. I'm not entirely sure how this happened. Each time I go into a Ross or Big Lots, I scan the DVDs. They snuck up on me, really. But at least I have a quick reference for those moments when someone wants to know the difference between Mountain and Cobra poses or just the right way to sway hips during a hula dance. These are the important things in life, you know. This obsession will come in handy starting tomorrow. I sat down at my computer and created my own gym schedule. My "gym" is closed on Tuesdays. Sundays are reserved for Qigong and Tai Chi. Mondays will be yoga and Pilates. Wednesdays is conditioning. Thursdays will be dance of some sort. Saturdays are for hardcore cardio. Then I dutifully organized all my DVDs in chronological order. It's the only piece of my life t

“This is the best Christmas ever…yep, ever!” “How did they know you wanted that?” “This is the best Christmas! I finally get my first Christmas present!” We had our “party” yesterday. The students all thought they were selected to take a test for the state. As they sat there with their pencils ready, the pizzas arrived. Then the chips. Then the cokes. Then the presents. I can’t remember ever seeing smiles as broad as these. Some kids tore into their gifts. Others wanted to keep them wrapped so they had something to open Christmas morning. I cannot begin to explain exactly how it felt to witness such a display. We all dug deep into the wells of our souls, both to give and receive. I know for a fact that one girl had not ever received a gift before that moment. (She screamed when she heard she was getting a stocking filled with candy.) One boy ran around the room chomping pizza and telling us, “I don’t know how you made this happen, but thank you.” Another girl literally stopped breathin

My sweetie stormed through the front door Saturday morning asking me if I knew where the shovel was. When I asked what was going on, he yelled, "You don't want to know" and stormed back out. I knew this wasn't good, and I continued scrubbing away at the bathroom counter while I made a list in my head of what could be going on in the pre-dawn darkness that required a shovel and my blissful ignorance. When he finally came back inside, my never-miss-a-meal husband washed his hands, sat down at the table, and told me he wasn't hungry. It turned out one of the cats outside had been hit by a car sometime during the night. It's moments like that that make me so appreciative for that certain quality this man has. He took care of something gruesome because he knew I'd need a mega dose of valium to get through it. And then he fought back the tears at the thought of what he had just seen. I love that mixture of masculine strength and humanity rolled into his broad sh

The weather outside is just the way I like it. Gray. Dark. Drizzly. It's kind of the way I've been feeling lately, and that's okay. I was musing just a few days ago about how much we complain about the rollercoaster of life. We always seem to be either up or down. And yet, isn't that what life really is? We're either up or down or somewhere in between. And that's okay because wherever we are, there's a purpose. So there must be some poetry or essays buried within my soul right now. I woke up yesterday with the wonder that goes along with not going to work. (Even though it was for a dentist appointment). In that wonder, I sat at my computer and wrote the beginning of two essays that I will be sharing soon and read The Federalist No. 10 . It felt so liberating to surround myself with words, and I know I've missed that. Sigh. I chopped off my hair yesterday. And my coloring fiasco is mostly repaired. I feel free-er. And it's pay day.

Yesterday I went home and wrote in my journal: My heart has cried and filled my soul with its tears. I work with some of the most amazing people I have ever had the opportunity to know. (And for those of you who know me, that's a pretty high standard.) The school I'm at this year is an interesting place. Just take the pieces I've shared and put it together. It's one of the lowest socio-economic areas settled next to one of the wealthiest sections of Florida. Most of my students are the children of farm workers. The parents work in the fields or packing houses from before sunrise to well past sunset and even into the wee hours of the morning. This back breaking work often provides for them a government-assisted duplex, Habitat for Humanity home, or a single-wide trailer shared with another family or two. During our meeting yesterday, we discussing some rather disturbing information about some of our students. In the process, we decided to throw a small holiday party for