a letter from an old friend

Today I got a letter from my friend Sarah Ruth. She and I have been friends since we were 4 years old. That means we have been friends for two decades people. When I saw her name on the return address I quickly tore into the envelope just dying to see what it held. I was reading along and there it was: "I wanted to let you know that I'm getting married this summer..." I was beyond thrilled. Sarah is amazing girl and I have been dying to find out what lucky guy would snag her. At the end of the email, she gave me a website for the wedding. I of course promptly checked it.

That's when it hit me. Sarah Ruth was getting married. I scrolled through the pictures of her fiance looking at her adoringly, of Sarah looking so beautiful and happy and my eyes teared up. There she was, my best friend through those endless years of childhood that have now ended. We are no longer 12. We no longer watch Anne of Green Gables 40 times a month. We don't play house. We can't ask her parents if we can please stay up a little longer. We are women. It made me feel so old. Not in the normal way. Not in the "man I am ancient" way but in the harsh realization that childhood is done. Sarah represented all that is childhood to me - making up games together, impromptu slumber parties, getting in silly fights, all those glorious things of friendship in those early years.

I am so very happy for this friend and I would want nothing more than the perfect romance I saw flashing before me, but I just wish we could go back once and again, you know? Go back to when the biggest care we had was how to convince her little sister Bekah to not play with us or begging her mom not to put half the amount of sugar in the koolaid pitcher. I don't know. I guess when I saw Sarah looking so grown up and beautiful and in love, I realized that childhood is over. I know this is incredibly silly. I mean, I have been married for almost 7 years, I have a 4 year old and a baby on the way, and I am a teacher. I have been "grown up" for quite some time. But seeing your best friend all grown up smiling at the love of her life is different. It means we are all growing up. And there isn't any going back.

Until I see my son. His childhood is just beginning and I get to experience that with him. I get to be the mom who puts half the sugar in the koolaid jar or who lets him have a friend over on a school night. I get to watch him make up games with his friends and learn what a best friend really is. It's not the same but it's just as great.

I am a grown up. I may make up games with Mason and I might still watch Anne of Green Gables enough to have it memorized, but it won't ever be the same as it was. I will never again be the lanky 12 year old who did cart wheels in the living room or giggled for hours about the latest Baby Sitter club book. I miss childhood. I do. I miss its innocence, the carefreeness of it, the perfection of a summer afternoon spent with a good friend. But it's still there. The innocence, the carefreeness, the perfect summer day still happens just in different ways, with different friends like my husband, my son and my other "grown up" friends.

To Sarah,
I love you - for the memories, the laughs, and the friendship that taught me what friendship meant. I am so very happy for you and Michael and I pray your life be filled with carefree hours, the innocence of love and a million perfect summer days even in the dead of winter. Congratulations!

6th period

What is it about my 6th period class?

All day long, my classes have been doing a websearch. Every class, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th has come in, gotten to work, asked just a few rare questions. They all completed the assignment and were content to browse the website if finished early.

Then comes 6th period. They come in loudly. They have asked a million dumb questions like
"Do I get on the internet to see the website?" and just don't get it. It is amazing. It's like after about 2pm brains just shut off.

Thank the Lord I don't have a 7th period.

foot steps

Yesterday I was looking for quotes on love, marriage etc for this lingerie shower thing I am doing. I found one by Ronald Reagan that brought tears to my eyes.

"There is no greater happiness for a man than approaching a door at the end of a day, knowing someone on the other side of that door is waiting for the sound of his footsteps."

I am so thankful that I still listen for my husbands footsteps and the sound of the garage door shutting behind him fills me joy and security.

I remember when we were first married and we lived in our apartment I could tell he was coming by the sound of the car locking, and his pounding footsteps coming up the stairs. That was my favorite sound then.

I think his footsteps approaching may still be my favorite sound...

My rant against McDonalds

I have a bone to pick with McDonalds. It's not about calories, changing the french fry oil or trying to make me feel guilty when I still order a quarterpounder with cheese when there are good salads on the menu now. It is about their placemat.

I teach English. Every day, almost, I battle 7th graders over silly things like capitalizing proper nouns or spelling words correctly. I even have noticed this year more than ever(or just last year since this is only my 2nd year teaching) that capitalizing the letter i when using it in the first person tense is not happening. Teaching the conventions of our wacky English language is a challenge, let me tell you.

So, about three weeks ago Troy and I were eating at McDonalds when I looked down at the placemat. This is what it said more or less, exactly written this way.

"i like eating at mcdonalds. i can always find something to satisfy my hunger. i like..."

Not one single word was capitalized. Are you kidding me? Doesn't McDonalds know that kids learn from environmental print and that if they see on a placemat at McDonalds that no letters are capitalized, they think that's normal? It's bad enough that I have to fight my students about im-ing versus real English, standards for emails versus essays, but for an actual advertising campaign by one of the biggest worldwide companies to ignore all conventions of the English language is too much. I was livid. My poor husband got the brunt of this rant right there in the restaurant.

So the placemat was bad enough but then I remember the slogan. "im loving it." No caps, no apostrophe. What the heck?!!

Then I was driving down the street and there's Taco Bell with a big ol' sign plastered to their window that says "grilled stuft burrito." My 7th graders will actually think that is how you spell stuffed. Is it that much cooler, Taco Bell, to have stuft than stuffed? Is it worth ruining the minds of our future doctors, lawyers, teachers and leaders?

Okay, so I know this is a little over the top, but seriously. What you see is what you do. Kids have little impressionable minds and this is not the impression we should be giving them.

I will never write my blogs in all lower case or with cheesy abbreviations or no punctuation. I will have mistakes but not intentionally. I am fighting here, people! I am an English teacher to the death...or at least until I can find a part time job that pays well.

Okay, I am done.

I want March to be over

Yesterday Troy and I were eating, no, that's a lie. I was eating (Three of those frozen burritos that are three for a dollar at Wal - Mart. Yes, I said three. And I am going to go buy more today if I can. They are so dang good!!!) and Troy was just sitting there(probably wishing I would cook a real meal) and we were talking. I was thinking about all the things going on this month, showers, weddings, mason's birthday party and the big one - end of the first trimester on the 29th. I looked at Troy and said,"I can't wait for March to be over." It was February 27th when I said that. That is pretty sad. It was mainly because I want to feel better and I am just believing with all my heart that I will once this first phase of the pregnancy is over. Oh, well. I stand by my words. What's amazing is how I keep forgetting about Spring Break. Only 7 teaching days until then. Holy Cow. That is wonderful. I can make it. I can...

The Ick Battle

Some of you may have noticed the lack of posting lately. I know one of my friends REALLY has. :) Well, here is why. I feel so darn ickish all the time and for whatever crazy reason, writing on my blog makes me think about being ickish. Maybe because the last blog was titled Ick. Anyway, I have decided to push through! I may want to hurl at the sight of food while being nauseously hungry every second of every day, but alas, I shall persevere and blog away. I have won this battle but the war of ickness continues. Let's just pray it ends with my first trimester on March 29th.

Ick

That is the best word to describe how I feel. Ick. Not completely sick, just ick. Nothing sounds very yummy to me except for food you buy at restaurants like Spinach dip from Cheddars, Margarita Chicken from Chili's or Fajitas, or Steak. Holy cow. I think I just started drooling. Steak....But what is weird about these foods is that if I were to eat them, then I would, immediately following consumption, never want them again. Like, the other night I was craving pizza. So my sweet husband let me order it. I ate it, loved every second I ate it but now, not so much. Don't want Pizza Hut for a good while. Other pizza is okay but Pizza Hut sounds gross. Really gross. That is so weird. I am having a really hard time finding things I want to eat. Fortunately I feel like I am craving healthier food, like real meals. Not junk food. Anyone who knows me, knows I am a sugar addict. But not any more. I almost want to hurl at the thought of chocolate. I wish I wasn't so dog tired at night so that I would want to cook something real for dinner.

Now that was an exciting blog.