A Call for Grace

Craig and I ran into an old friend of ours last night at the local sports bar while watching Game 7 of the NBA Finals. It had been awhile since she and I had gotten a chance to catch up and since we had last REALLY talked, many changes had occurred in her life. Changes that seem to be ultimately beneficial for all parties involved, but while in the process were extremely painful, shameful and destructive.  As with many little-big towns like the one we live in, I had heard rumors through the grapevine about everything that had happened...but like when dealing with middle school rumors, I believed only half of what I heard.  I figured that if she wanted me to know the story, she would fill me in but I owed her a listening ear and an unbiased heart.

As we sat at the table and cheered (and then groaned) our way through the basketball game, my friend turned to me and said something to the effect of "I thought you were disappointed in me or mad at me for what happened." I nearly spit out my beer. "Why on Earth would I be upset with you? You don't owe me an explanation or an apology.  That's between you and God...your forgiveness and reconciliation has nothing to do with me."  She immediately relaxed, smiled and mentioned that giving grace was one of her favorite qualities about me. I thanked her and tried to brush off her compliment with a remark about my own checkered and wildly sinful past while we refocused on the game. 

But my thoughts kept churning through the rest of the evening. 

Grace. I've been chewing on that word ever since Natalie was born. Our children must have boundaries, rules and expectations to live by in order to become productive members of society. But in order to be a compassionate and considerate person....they must also have a healthy dose of grace extended to them from the people who love them the most. 

But I think it's such a misunderstood word. Grace is not a free pass or revoking consequences. It is not blindly loving or wearing rose-colored glasses.  Extending grace doesn't mean condoning or supporting the negative behavior but it does mean acknowledging the frailty of the human condition, the fact that we are all sinners while providing an example of Jesus' most important command...love one another. 

The moment I extended grace to my old friend and shook my head at her concerns of my disapproval, I saw her spirit lift and her shoulders perk. I wasn't another person condemning her or brandishing her with the scarlet letter. I was another sinner struggling through my own misgivings and missteps saying "I will love you through this." 

And why should we extend grace to one another? Because it is the greatest gift that God gives to us everyday as we trip, stumble and fall along the path we are trying to walk with Jesus.  Every day as I speak too harshly and lose patience with Natalie, get frustrated and snap at my husband or envy the owner of the brand new Lexus down the street....God provides me with grace and forgiveness. If I want to truly be an example of how I was made in His image, I must afford those around me the same grace and forgiveness that He provides me. 

But also from a practical point of view, I also don't believe in kicking a dog when they are down serves any useful or productive purpose and I tried my best to demonstrate this with my athletes. After a loss, whether it be hard fought or an easy defeat.....my girls' faces were filled with disappointment, frustration and even shame. Berating them in the post game huddle would have squashed their burgeoning love for the game and made the entire season miserable for them and for me.  My job as their coach was not to yell at them and make them feel worse but instead to teach them how to pick themselves up and focus their eyes on the next game while figuring out how to avoid tripping in the future. Of course I would go home and vent and fume about the game to my husband, but it was never about the girls' performance....it was about what I could do as their leader to help them overcome the obstacles they faced. In order to get the best out of people they have to know you believe in them and that belief Is conveyed through grace. Period. 

And that is what I think we are called to do....not discourage one another from living a Christ-filled life by judgment and condemnation, but instead help our friends along the treacherous path of life through grace and encouragement. 

I'm sorry I'm not sorry

Last Thursday was just a tough day.

Something stupid set me off because it was a reminder of so many other times when boundaries have been crossed and disrespected.

I'm not perfect in any sense of the word.

I know that I have a temper.

I wield words like a shield and sword, putting up a defense while simultaneously aiming for the jugular.

Perhaps it comes from being the youngest of two brothers growing up - I knew that I was no match for them physically so I had to find a different kind of weapon.

Regardless of the reason or the source....when I purposely use my words to inflict pain and suffering, it's simply not right.

It would be easier to brush off my hurtful remarks and apologize if I truly said them in the heat of the moment and that they didn't come from my heart.

But I don't feel sorry because I meant what I said, it came from straight from my heart.....and I think that is what scares me the most.

I am capable of loving so deeply and whole-heartedly. I give selflessly to Craig, Natalie, friends, students and my family. But on this subject and with these people I am hardened and unforgiving.

A friend of mine used to joke about my love of justice, which stems from my strong sense of right and wrong.  And although it was a "joke," as with any teasing, there was some semblance of truth in her statement.

I might not *love* justice, but I do hold grudges.  I do struggle with unencumbered forgiveness.  If I am going to truly forgive someone I want an apology first.  I want the offending party to understand what they have done wrong and then to acknowledge it to me.

How self-righteous I am.  How self-important I feel.

Ugh.  How ugly this characteristic of mine seems when printed in black and white.

Who I am to believe that I am a true judge of other people's flaws, mistakes or intentions?

I need to learn to forgive like God forgives.

Social Media

As of Monday morning, I am no longer present on Facebook or Twitter. I didn't delete my accounts but instead deactivated both of them.

And as itchy as my hand is to click on that little button at the top of my browser in order to catch up the latest "news" from my "friends," I'm feeling a bit more calm and relieved.

Why?

I had to shut off the chatter.

The chatter floating around on Facebook and Twitter was (is?) affecting the chatter circulating my brain and heart.

Social media has become a film reel of everyone's best moments. No one posts pictures of a dirty house littered with toys or posts a status update about how in debt they are because of that fancy new car they bought. We tend to edit our lives to only the GOOD parts when we put ourselves out there for the world to see. Putting your best foot forward one might say.

And you know what? For the most part, that's okay. I want to see pictures of my far away bestie's gorgeous kids in homemade Halloween costumes. Before my brother moved back to Texas from Maine, Facebook was the easiest way for him to be able to view her first few months of life.  Through a status update and accompanying photograph, I was delighted to find out that a close friend of mine from college finally put a ring on it. Social media can be a wonderful tool to keep in touch with faraway family or reconnect with old friends.

But as with most things in life, it can have a dark side. When you begin measuring the quality of your everyday life based on the best parts of everyone else's, you might end up feeling like you got the short end of the stick.  Or you can use misfortune in other people's lives in order to give yourself a pat on the back because in comparison, you're doing pretty great.  But regardless of the matter in which social media changes your perspective, the fact remains is that it takes your focus away from where you should be receiving your self-worth.  For me, that place is from the knowledge that God created me and to paraphrase the Bible - God don't make no junk.  It does my relationship with God no good to be comparing the body, mind, gifts and life that He so graciously gave me to the body, mind, gifts and life that He provided to someone else.  He created me the way that I am for a reason and it's through His wisdom and guidance that I will figure out how to use all that I have been blessed with in a way that brings Him glory.

And to be honest, I've also found that the older I get, the less I need PEOPLE in my life.  Let me clarify - the less I need extraneous people that are not authentic friends who add significant substance to my life.  I was never the girl that had an army of gal pals surrounding me.  More like a few close friends with whom I shared my secrets and then a broader group of boys and girls who we hung out with on the weekends.  I am definitely relishing in the fact that I don't know everyone's business and nor do they know mine.  Perhaps this little break from social media will spur me into getting together or chatting with my close friends more often seeing as how I'm not keeping tabs on them via status updates.

Craig and I were talking about my little experiment tonight at dinner and I was telling him how my fingers were a little twitchy when I opened the "social" folder on my iPhone and THERE IS NOTHING THERE.  He asked about the blog and whether I considered it "social media" and therefore would I be taking a break from it as well.  I get where he's coming from because in a sense, writing a blog and reading other people's blogs is a form of social media but for me, I'm not just writing to meet friends and influence people.  (But if that happens somewhere along the way, that's fantastic too!) I blog because it is a creative outlet, a place to funnel my thoughts and feelings as well as a chronicle of my life for Natalie to read someday so that she might have a greater understanding of her mother.

I am most definitely keeping my blog because it doesn't give me any of those negative effects I listed above - if anything it provides exactly the opposite.  I love the people who write the blogs that I read on a regular basis.  I find comfort in the words that they write, the emotions they express, and the hardships they face.  There is something deeper here on the blogosphere that I don't find on Facebook or Twitter.  We don't just give the highlight reel.  We blog when we're full of elation and joy and we blog when we're overcome with sadness and desperation.  In short.......it's REAL here among my blogging buddies and those are the kinds of people that I want to surround myself with - both in real life and online.

Independence

I'm sitting here at the computer in the kitchen with the sunlight streaming in through the blinds and a cup of hot coffee resting on the table in front of me. 

The house, for once, is still.  The pups are outside sniffing and poking around in the grass.  Craig is coaching his teams at a basketball tournament.  Natalie has been at Grandmama's house since 5:30 yesterday afternoon.

Except for the hum of the washer and the clicking of this keyboard, there is silence in my home.

As much as I love the mornings where there are two adults and three little creatures crawling around our bed, I crave mornings like this.  

Sometimes I desperately miss the solace of living on my own.  The independence to wake up slowly, cherish every drop of my coffee - maybe even have a second cup.  The ability to sit out on the porch with a book and watch the world wake up.  The thought of a whole day full of possibilities that stretched out before me.  No commitments, no tantrums, no grocery shopping.  Just me, floating through the day, taking advantage of whatever came up - whether it was meeting up and lunching with a friend or just hunkering down in my bed for a Lifetime movie marathon.

As wistful as I get for those days, I look around my living room at the stray turquoise Converse next to her little white rocking chair where she loves to sit and read her precious books.  I see the tiny pink Crocs that were so lovingly gifted to us from a very dear friend and her adorable daughter.  There are two dog crates which hold her favorite playmates, whom she excitedly helps release when we return home from school or any other trip.  I love those things - the little signs of the precious baby girl who tromps around the house with such determination and joy.

Life is a give and take.  In order to have the love, security and company that I craved while living in that apartment, I had to give up a certain amount of independence and freedom.  But this is just a phase and I know that it will all circle back at some point in time.  Soon enough, she will be eight years old and free from any sort of carseat, able to get in and out of the car on her own which will make shopping easier and faster.  Then she will be sixteen and cruising around town with her friends and I will no longer be her chauffeur attending to all the demands of an active tween and teenager.  Then she will be twenty-three and out in the world on her own, inviting me over for dinner in her newly acquired apartment, proudly displaying the "grown-up" set of dishes and servingware she purchased for herself.  

But in the meantime, before I get to all those things, I'm going to enjoy this quiet moment by myself.  

*************************

For whatever reason, this ending of the school year has made me more nostalgic than most.  I think it's the first year where I've been acutely aware of how long I have been a member of this community and the impact that I've had on these children and their families.  Children that I student taught math to when they were in 6th grade are now graduating high school and going on to do amazing things.  

Craig and I had a wonderful date last night - we had delicious Mexican food followed up by watching the Rangers game at a local sports bar while having a couple of Coronas.  While we were sitting there watching the end of the game, a gorgeous young server walked by our table and she and I both did a double take.  She stopped and asked if we were middle school coaches at the local school.  She was always a quiet girl, but a phenomenal volleyball player and even better student.  She was one of those girls who flew under the radar in middle school but I knew that once she got to high school she would blossom into something remarkable.  And that "remarkable" turns out to be attending the University of Edinburg in the fall to study International Relations and Arabic.  I was stunned, impressed........and jealous.  What an amazing opportunity for this young woman.  At eighteen I NEVER would have had the guts, the determination or the confidence to attend or even apply to a school and an experience like that.  

As we were driving home last night, listening to U2 on my iPod, I was filled with the memories off being 10 weeks pregnant and sitting at the comeback concert of U2 at the Olympic stadium in Torino, Italy.  And years before that of cavorting through Amsterdam, Germany and London with a good friend of mine from high school.  And even before that, one night of delicious drinking and dancing with my parents at a fabulous restaurant outside of Florence, Italy.  

I have lived.  I did go do things that required guts, determination and confidence.  I have seen the world and yet.......I still wanted to return here.  Out of all the places that I've seen and been, home is here in north Texas.  It's not glamorous or filled to the brim with culture and history, but it's home.  I can drive through the Metroplex and see myself from a small child to the adult that I am today.

As we were pulling into the garage and getting out of the car, I stopped Craig and told him how I was a teensy bit jealous of this young woman's opportunity to study abroad and have that delicious taste of freedom and independence.  How I had that little ache in my tummy that reminded me that I too was smart and strong enough to have done something like that at her age.  How there was a little voice inside my head that told me I should have and could have done something much greater with my life - something other than attending college a mere 45 minutes from my parents and then becoming a teacher married to another teacher living deep in the heart of suburbia.  

Then something occurred to me.  Perhaps I could have done "more" with my life, whatever that "more" might mean.  But then I wouldn't have been given the opportunity to be a part of these kids' lives.  I wouldn't have been able to use my gift of inspiration, encouragement, dedication and perseverance to teach them vital life lessons through coaching and in the classroom.  Perhaps my role on this Earth isn't to go and do these "GREAT" things out in the world, but instead to stay here in my little town, in my little house and empower young men and women so that one day THEY can go on and do and be those amazing things.

I'll never get the chance to be eighteen and living abroad for college but I take great pride in the possibility that in some small way, I was able to help create a strong, independent, confident and intelligent young woman that is taking advantage of this opportunity.

I am a Warrior!

In my life, I can count on one hand the number of things that I have done where I truly was terrified and completely unsure of my capabilities.  

NUMBER ONE: Traveled through Europe for two weeks with my good friend Kristin.  We managed to have a great time, not get our money stolen and never missed a train or flight.

NUMBER TWO: Studying for, taking and passing the Texas state exam that certified me to teach 8th though 12th grade math.  I did it all while seven months pregnant.

NUMBER THREE: Preparing for and completing my first ever 5K run complete with mud and obstacles, all finished with a pulled pork sandwich and a beer.  Mission.......accomplished.

The main stage at the run.  Despite the thousands of people that were there either participating or as spectators, the event was run incredibly smooth and organized.

My clean sneaks before the race.

Me and my sister-in-law, Laura.

The finish line of the race.

About to hit the fire.

Ugh.  I miscalculated my entry into the mud and ended up with a face (and mouth) full of mud.  Gross.

Getting through the gunk.

You don't want to know what my shower looked like after I washed all this stuff off.

Emerging from the mud - the hardest part was getting up that slope while simultaneously trying NOT to bust my butt in front of all the spectators.

Treading carefully.

Crossing the finish line!

All done!  We worked really well together - kept up a good pace and encouraged each other through the obstacles.  We've already decided that we will be doing this race again next year with a goal to finish in under 45 minutes.

Epic.

Dirty sneaks after the race.

My "free" Warrior t-shirt and the ten dollar shirt we bought for Natalie.

Motherhood

As I was stalking my way around Facebook last night, I found this little nugget posted as someone's status. 

Go ahead.  Click it and enjoy.  I'll wait right here.

*Twiddling thumbs.*

*Slurrrrp.  Finished off my Sprite from lunch.*

*Ugh.  I need to clean off my desk.*

Oh!  You're back!  Kaboom.  Is your mind completely blown like mine? 

My goodness.  I needed to read that - what freedom she gives us.  The freedom to NOT feel guilty when we're NOT.  ENJOYING.  EVERY.  SINGLE.  SECOND.  The crying, temper tantrum my daughter threw when she was told "no" and pulled away from grabbing Angie's ears?  I didn't enjoy that.  Nor did I enjoy her waking up this morning at 5:38 and then doing this weird moaning she did with her eyes closed and mouth open while I was trying to get just a few more moments of rest before starting my day.  That doesn't mean I don't understand the importance of these moments....discipline is necessary in creating a functioning member of society and I am thankful to have a healthy and smiling daughter to pick up out of her crib every morning. 

But enjoy?  Probably not.

I felt the crushing weight of this guilt last March and April as I was miserably sitting at home with my child, desperately wishing that she would sleep for a little while longer so that I could catch up on blogs and other internet fun.  I immersed myself in my friend Melissa's blog which during this particular time she was working through the grief of her daughter Hadley.  My heart ached for her loss and still does, especially as she approaches the first anniversary of Hadley's birth and journey to Jesus.  But at the time, I felt guilty and ashamed.  There I was.....not wanting to mother my child.....feeling resentful that this little creature had forever changed my life.  I thought about women like Melissa who would give anything to sit and comfort their crying child while I was desperately yearning to run far away.

And yes, one day I ran away from my crying child, my frustrated husband and my terrified dog. 

At the time I didn't understand that the chemicals in my brain and body were malfunctioning, but more importantly I didn't truly understand what it meant to be a mother. 

What I didn't understand is that there is no definition of "mother." 

Mothers can work outside or inside the home.

Mothers can be feminine and delicate or they can be a tomboy and a little rough around the edges.

Mothers can be quiet or loud.  They can enjoy a glass of white wine with their friends or a tall beer with her husband. 

Mothers can be religiously organized or delightfully free-spirited.

Mothers can be whatever the hell they want to be as long as their children and husband are loved.

I was a victim of the "shoulds."  I SHOULD enjoy every moment with my child.  I SHOULD always be patient, loving and engaged with my child.  I SHOULD maintain a clean and well organized home.  I SHOULD always have a healthy and delicious dinner ready when my husband comes home from work.  I SHOULD always put every single other person's physical, emotional and spiritual well being above my own.

Ugh.  What a beating.

And the truth of the matter is that the more Natalie has grown, the more I have grown to love her and love my position as her mother.  I let go of the "shoulds" and embraced the "wills" and the "ams."

I will keep a clean and organized house because I am more relaxed when my environment is tidy.

I will encourage my daughter to be involved in school and extra-curricular activities because I am confident in the great life lessons found in these programs.

I will prioritize my husband and our marriage because we are better parents to Natalie when our marriage is strong.

I will attempt to make delicious dinners because I am finding that I actually enjoy the challenge of cooking.

I will allow Natalie to explore her creativity and make messes because I am able to purchase the proper cleaning materials.

Am I enjoying motherhood?  I would probably say that I am enjoying the growth of our family.  I love the three FOUR of us (sorry Angie) becoming a unit and creating memories (good and bad) together.  I love that I have a partner to support and one that supports me.

I suppose the bottom line is that we have to stop allowing this lie of "motherhood is the end all be all of your life and if you're not enjoying every moment then you must be doing it wrong" to permeate into our core belief system and instead build our own version of motherhood.

Green Grass

Green grass in it's many forms has been on my mind lately...is the grass always greener on the other side? How do we grow green grass through the weeds in our yard?

Our wedding pictures are officially up on our photographer's website (http://www.staticsixx.com, go to online ordering and scroll down to our album, just put your email address in and enjoy!) and I have made the decision NOT to look at any other wedding albums for the time being. I am a competitive person and I like to be the best and although I have curtailed my insatiable need for dominance in the past few years, sometimes the monster still rears it's ugly head. Planning, coordinating and executing a wedding is a personal endeavor - Craig and I worked very hard to infuse our own personalities into our day so that the whole shebang really reflected US as a couple. So when I start perusing the Facebook wedding albums of a few former acquaintances (who happened to get married within a few weeks of me) it affects my core when I see that their wedding might have been a bit dressier, more glamorous and definitely more expensive. I have to reel myself in and remember that I am a different person from my college days and that Craig and I have different priorities, especially when it came to planning this wedding. So what if I wore Steve Madden flats and not Manolo Blahnik heels? My shoes were turquoise and those that know me, know that's MY color. Who cares if our party didn't go on to until the wee hours of the morning? Craig and I aren't party animals in our normal lives, much less on a day when I had gotten up at 6:30 am. The truth of the matter is that I'm not going to compare weddings because...the GREEN monster might appear which will cause the memories of my day to be cheapened and because the GREEN grass isn't always better on the other side - maybe those brides with those big weddings look at MY pictures and think the same thing I do? Who knows? I'm happy with our day because it was perfect for us and that's all that matters.

Another matter of green grass was presented to me on Friday afternoon. I have an interesting Assistant Principal at my school...at times he is prickly, sarcastic and a little angry but I have a feeling that there is a good guy in there somewhere. He and I get along, well...we do now that I'm on board with his sense of humor and I understand to trust nothing he says, but I think our relationship as AP and teacher was strengthened when I taught his very intelligent but slightly awkward 7th grade daughter how to throw the discus at a track meet a few weeks ago. My boys weren't throwing yet, so I took her out on the practice field and broke down the steps of throwing the discus for her. We worked on the basics of holding the disc and how to move our feet and she got a teensy bit better! But more importantly, I think it meant a lot to her dad that I took the time out of coaching my kids to work with her, but also to help build up her confidence. I guess what goes around, comes around because last Friday as I was dropping off some paperwork at this AP's office, he asked me to step inside and close the door. Uh-oh. That's NEVER a good sign. Thankfully, it wasn't THAT type of visit and he just let me in on a little change that was going on at my school. A teacher with a full courseload (6 classes) of 7th grade Math had just resigned and my principal was on the hunt for a new Math teacher to fill her spot. He mentioned that he knew I was looking to get back in the classroom and that this could be a great opportunity since he knows I love Math. He didn't know much about whether or not it could be broken up to include coaching Athletics two class periods out of the day, but encouraged me to talk to the principal immediately. "But, Mr. G! I have class!" I told him. Not to worry, Mr. G promised to cover my class and take them out to play soccer so that I could have this very important conversation with my principal. I was honestly touched by this gesture because it is very out of character for this sarcastic guy but I guess you reap what you sow. I sowed some seeds of compassion for his daughter and on the flip side I reaped compassion by him looking out for my interests.

So, I ran down the hall and met with my principal about this job and now I've got some decisions to make. First of all, this can't be a coaching position due to numbers, class size, etc. If I want to apply, I am saying that I am done coaching for the time being. I still would have to submit my application and proper references and go through the interview process, but my principal did say that I had really impressed him and that I was a vital member of the staff, blah, blah, blah. He likes me and he wants to keep me at the school. Got it.

Now I've got to make a decision:
- Is this "the sign" that I've been waiting for? Is it really time for me to get out of coaching?
- It's no secret that coaching is exhausting and this year has been the biggest struggle for me.
- I am sick of the politics that are involved in coaching at the district level.
- Craig and I already know what our next great adventure is going to be: having a family, and me coaching while pregnant just doesn't sound like much fun.
- I love the game of volleyball and I love watching girls fall in love with it as well.
- I finally got the title of "head coach," am I ready to give up that small amount of glory I've earned?
- I will miss the girls. By coaching, I get to know them so much better than the average classroom teacher. Sometimes this is good, sometimes it is bad.

But here is the problem that I am grappling with:

Right now, while I am in the midst of long nights at track meets, being able to go home right after school and not have to work any extra hours sounds awesome. That grass definitely is greener. But if I take this opportunity and next year I happen to walk by the gym and see those volleyball nets up, will I miss it? Will that grass seem greener than it does right now?

And plus...Craig and I have a plan for our family but it might not be the same plan that God has for us! I would hate to give up coaching this year for nothing. Craig and I are looking at August as our "start date" or whatever for beginning a family but what if it doesn't work out that way and I could have coached another year? But then again, what if I don't take this opportunity and our plan actually happens and I have to waddle around track meets until 9:30 at night while I'm six months pregnant! That would not be fun for anyone involved.

I talked with Craig about this on Friday night and his vote was for me to jump on this opportunity. He knows that I miss the classroom and everything that it entails, as well as the fact that I have been frustrated, tired and bored this entire year while teaching PE and coaching volleyball, cross country and track. I think I know what I need to do, but change is scary...especially when it's coupled with trying to start a family which is an even BIGGER life change.

On an entirely different note, and now about REAL green grass...our yard is a hot mess. We have virtually NO grass but instead a vast assortment of weeds. Weeds in our lawn and weeds in our flower beds. We promised ourselves that we would take care of it AFTER the wedding, but instead we had to divert our attention to Craig's knee surgery and recovery instead of the lawn. I was discussing this fact with our neighbors a few houses down whose daughter is one of my very sweet 7th grade athletes. They are a fantastic family with great morals and values, which they have dutifully instilled in their seven children. Saturday morning I was picked up by my friend Emily to go shopping with her and her two middle school nieces at the Southlake town center. As I was getting in the car, Emily mentioned that she had seen some little girls pulling weeds out of our front flower bed but when they saw her pull up, they took off down the street. Sure enough, I peered down Sunflower Ln. and there were some curly headed girls trying unsuccessfully to hide behind cars. Hmm. I put it out of my mind and enjoyed my morning with Emily and the girls perusing the home decor sections of Crate and Barrel, Anthropologie and The Container Store.

When Emily dropped me off, I paused while getting out of the car. Our lawn had been mowed. Our front flower bed was devoid of any weeds. Someone had cleaned up my yard.

I was moved beyond belief. When talking with my neighbors the previous Thursday at the track meet, sure...they had mentioned "if you need anything let us know - our oldest boy mows lawns for people in the neighborhood" but I didn't think much of it. Most people put that stuff out there to SOUND caring, but rarely follow through on anything they offer. But not this family...they had snuck over to our house on Saturday morning and mowed our lawn and picked our weeds. And more importantly, they didn't expect a dime in return. They had done it out of the Christian goodness in their heart because they knew that life had been a bit of a challenge for us lately and they wanted to do something to take a little bit of life's burden off our shoulders. I'm not sure what I did to deserve this type of kindness but I hope that someday I will be able to repay this family for the act of service that they performed for Craig and myself.

A response...

This post is in response to the comment a friend of mine from high school and basketball teammate, Leighann posted on a blog that I wrote a few days ago. She wrote:


"Im clapping!!! It's always bothered me that I could have gone somewhere with my basketball abilities, maybe not real far, but atleast college. I think it's funny I played AAU for 7 years in the most competative form you could find, yet I wasn't good enough for her high school team. I wish I could go back in time and do something about it, but I can't. It still bothers me to this day that I chose basketball over softball because I thought I could get somewhere better with that...then I hated it so bad, I quit! I have severe hatred towards that woman and I think I will always. Good blog...I love it!"

For a little backstory, Leighann and I were on the same basketball team when we were in sixth grade (the Lady Lakers!) and we played against each other throughout middle school but went to the same high school. My sophomore year I was put on the Varsity team because of the sole fact that I was six feet tall and they needed another post player. Leighann was on JV, but definitely the best player. On a regular district game night, the Varsity basketball team played first and the JV girls played second in the small gym. If I didn't play in the Varsity game (which happened most of the time) I would run down the hall to the small gym and play with JV. Although I understand the thought process, it put me in a tricky spot: neither team really accepted me as one of their teammates. Except Leighann - we were good friends on and off the court and sat the bench together throughout our Junior year, except when she was put into the game to drain some three's. At the end of our Junior year, she and I both approached our coach together and resigned from the team.

So, in response to Leighann's comment I wanted to let her know...that's why I love coaching middle school...because that's when it was still something fun to do with my friends. All my girls want to do is scrimmage in the gym and if I could, I would let them do that everyday because soon enough the sport they love will turn into a grueling job. I have found a lot of joy in the "old coaches" volleyball league that I play in every Wednesday night because it isn't about competition (well, maybe a LITTLE bit) but it's more about being active and playing a game that we truly love.

And to Leighann...I'm so excited for you and Bryan - both on the marriage and the new adventures in Spain!! I can't help but think back to all the movies that we used to watch over at Rohit's house and to the massive amounts of cruising we did in your T-top Firebird!

What's Next?

The other night my friend Amy and I were having one of those great conversations that only the oldest of friends can do. I was cleaning up dinner and surfing the internet while she was changing a dirty diaper and getting her babies ready for bed. We had lots to catch up on and we somehow ended up on the subject of good parenting which led to a conversation about my coaching philosophy because it's really my only point of parenting reference. I was telling Amy a story about how my 7th grade volleyball athletes earned their spandex and new jerseys through hard work and showing their dedication and discipline. There was one day when my assistant coach and I were discussing my blow-up argument with the band director...

"Wait. You got in a fight with the band director? That's a story I want to hear" Amy interrupted.

She's right...it is a pretty interesting story. Forget about my volleyball players - let's hear about Laura's temper and stubborness!

One day the band director called down to the coaching office and asked for me to release my 7th grade volleyball players from afternoon practice without having to make it up so they could have ample time to go home and change and eat before their band concert that night. I told her that I would compromise and let them out at 4:45 because I wasn't going to give them up for one entire after school practice. A few more words were exchanged on the phone and my closing statement was "I'll just go speak with the principal." So there.

After frantically searching the school for my principal, he was nowhere to be found and I was forced to return to my coaching office, still fuming at the audacity of the band director to try and boss me around. I could practically feel my heels digging into the ground - there was no way I was going to let her push me around!

To my surprise when I walked in the office, she was casually standing against the file cabinet and looked at me sweetly (a sweetness that didn't quite reach her eyes, I might add) and said "Laura, I felt like I upset you on the phone."

With arms crossed I answered her "You did." Although to be quite honestly, I am sure it came out more of a growl than a polite reply.

To make a long story short, she and I are on opposite sides of the ideological fence which is perfectly fine...but that doesn't mean she gets to decide how I run my program. I had no problem with letting my athletes out of practice 45 minutes early but she was never going to tell me that I shouldn't make the band students make up practice when they miss an entire after school practice. Our conversation went round and round with each of us staunchly defending our point of view and with me at one point responding to her comments of a previously unsuccessful volleyball team with "Yeah...that's why I'm here." Ooh...that didn't go over real well with her...but quite frankly, I didn't care that much. Eventually our conversation ended with me suggesting that we take it to the principal since she and I couldn't come to a conclusion that both of us would be pleased with.

After she left I fumed and fussed about exactly WHY I was being so stubborn. Was it because I truly believed that I needed that 45 minutes with my kids after school? Yes...I did because on the typical day most "team" activities and drills are done directly after school because our classtime is spent warming up passing and serving. Was I being so stubborn because I really didn't like how she approached me and I just didn't want her to get her way? Well...maybe a little bit. Or did I truly believe that I was indeed compromising and doing what was best for those cream of the crop kids that are involved in several activities? Absolutely.

So I took my concerns to my principal and I began the conversation this way:

"I'll be totally honest with you Mr. Principal. My mom is half Italian and Cajun and sometimes when I'm caught off guard I won't be the nicest of people and unfortunately I wasn't."

I totally owned up to my less than courteous behavior, but I also defended my point of view and spelled out the bottom line for my principal: I am trying to compromise with her but I won't allow someone to dictate the philosophy that drives my program. And he agreed so that was that. It wasn't until I walked away that I realized I was shaking.

After relaying this story to Amy we started the "what's next" discussion. All through life our maturity and progression has been measured by learning certain lessons or reaching a new goal. Getting through adolescence meant knowing right from wrong, choosing the right friends and managing time well. Becoming a young adult meant paying bills on time, RSVPing when asked and knowing yourself. I can check all that off...now what?

I think the story I just told is a good example of the next bit of wisdom or life lesson that is ready for me to tackle: not just knowing myself but standing up for what I believe in even when it's not "lady like" or "proper." There are certainly times when stomping your foot down and saying "NO" isn't socially acceptable, but necessary to defend what you deem is right. Did I make a new friend at work through this interaction? Um...no...probably not. But did I stand up for what was best for my program and for my athletes and teams? Absolutely and that's what is important.

Thoughts on Coaching...

Being a head coach is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be - I mean, I figured I would be busy creating and running practices, managing paperwork and teaching a new coach the intricities of a volleyball court but I hd noidea the time I would spend running over practices in my head, trying to figure out the best way to make my team better.

Coaching is a selfless job. In Craig's words - if it's a win, it's because the girls played well and if you lose, it's because you did a poor job coaching. I don't really "get" anything out of coaching middle school volleyball - there's no extra stipend if I win or go to the play-offs and nor is my name in the paper for having an unbreakable winning streak.

Middle school volleyball is strictly about the kids and maybe that's why it's so difficult for me when my team loses....which, by the way, we've been doing a lot of lately. I am a big believer in setting kids up for success, whether it's by their parents or in the classroom. Kids can only be as successful as the opportunities placed before them because they really are such a clean slate and learn strictly through experiences. If I don't give my players the opportunity to learn a new task that is going to help them win, then they won't be successful on the court.

And oftentimes what makes the difference in middle school teams being successful on the court is the off-season opportunities to play volleyball. Unfortunately, I left a school where 7 out of 12 girls on the current Division I team played club ball in the spring last year...and it shows. I am now at a school where only a few girls played club ball in the spring last year...and it shows. One of my new girls asked me today as we watched my old school dominate at the tournament: "Coach, do you wish that you were still coaching there? Be honest...because they're really good." Ooh...how does one answer that? Do I love to win...of course...I wouldn't be a coach if I wasn't an ambitious and competitive person. Would it have been nice to have a chance at winning the tournament today...well, yeah...especially for a first year head coach. But I also watched all the silly dances and cheers that my old girls did in the middle of the floor and I got disgusted. Were we that cocky when Beri and I coached together? Did other schools look at us in a mixture of disgust at the confidence, and jealousy at the talent? Or do those other schools know the deeper importance of what we are doing as coaches...and know that it truly isn't about the wins at this age, but instead about the lessons about teamwork, dedication and hard work that are learned? I'm not sure how I responded to my freckly-faced setter, but it was something along the lines of "no...I know I made the best decision for my relationship with my fiance."

I think the bottom line is that girls will come and go, talent will rise and fall...but the positive impact that this move has made on Craig and I will remain forever.

I love volleyball and I love the fact that I get to know the girls on such a deeper and more personal level than many of their other teachers because of the time that we spend together. I couldn't really tell you who I had for 8th grade English or 7th grade Science...but I can recite the names of almost all of my coaches: Coach Daniels, Coach Johnson, Coach Adams, Coach Saye, Coach Durham, Coach Honc and Coach DeBord. I know the potential impact that I have on these young ladies by what I say, how I act and how I interact with them. But I also know that, despite my love for the game and for impacting girls' lives...there will someday be a beautiful baby (or babies) that will come into my life that will wipe away every desire to spend long hours in a gym. Coaching is Craig's gift in this life...it is his passion and his challenge. It stimulates his mind - trying to figure out the other teams offense or defense and exactly how he is going to exploit every single ounce of it. I love watching him coach the young girls on his club team because he is so gentle with them...and I can always picture a little curly headed brunette with a ribbon in her hair standing in the huddle, ready to play for her daddy. Having said that, Craig comes to every one of my volleyball games and I think he gets a kick out of watching me get so animatedly excited when my girls do well. In a way, he has watched me grow from a wild child, fresh out of college with no "real world" experience into a (mostly) poised and mature woman capable of both running a volleyball program and hosting a delicious dinner party. I know he is proud of me and I know that he is supportive of this step that I have taken in my life, but I know that it's not forever...and I'm okay with that because I have faith that the next step, whenever it happens, will be much greater and more joy filled.

I coached with one woman named Beri for three years. Over the course of those three years of sitting the bench together, sharing Starbucks on Friday mornings and guarding the 1200 hallway of our middle school together during passing periods, we've shared many things and I think learned many life lessons together as well. She has taught me to choose my battles when dealing with students and how to set appropriate goals for different teams and to rejoice when those goals are met. The most recent lesson however, has been on a much deeper level. As teachers, we generally tend to be selfless and giving people who put other people first before asking anything for ourselves. During the hours of 7:30 and 5:30, Monday through Friday...it's not about me - it's about what the kids need and what do I have to do to make sure those needs are met. Therefore, as a single or married without children women, it is very easy to forget about ourselves or our families because there really isn't anyone who is being burdened or traumatized by our long hours. Once Beri found out that she was pregnant last December, I witnessed a remarkable change in her - immediately her first and foremost concern became her child, her health and her family. If she needed to take time off to take care of herself, she did. If there was a scheduling conflict between her family and school, school came second. Now that Craig, Angie and I are a family...she really inspired me to put the Cook-Nelson household first. Because at the end of the day, lessons...students...paperwork, it will all come and go but you only have one family in your life and if you neglect it, not only will you be miserable...but you could lose it. I'm not saying that now everything is about ME, but I certainly have learned where to draw the line. A few weeks ago I was running a 99.7 (and rapidly climbing) fever during the middle of the school day. Despite my tears that welled up in my eyes at the thought of missing that night's 8th grade volleyball game, once I left the building my only thought was taking care of myself. I think I've just realized that all the wins in the world will never be able to replace the joy I have when spending an evening sitting at the dinner table recounting the day's events with Craig followed by cuddle time with Angie.

Freedom at a Price

Drinking in college was what I considered "fun" at the time. Sunday through Wednesday was spent in recovery from the debauchery of the previous weekend and in anticipation of the surprises that the upcoming weekend held. It was carefree and careless. I can remember feeling so free at the time - like I could do anything at a moments notice or be whoever I chose for a particular night. From spontaneous road trips to Austin to four inch hot pink stilettos with a denim mini skirt...I thought I was living the ultimate life.

But little did I know that the freedom I felt during college was due to being chained to one thing. Alcohol was everyone's best friend and the ultimate party planner. No Alcohol? No party. He was a man of many names (Jose, Jack and McCormick were my favorites) and never let you down on a Friday night. He talked you into trying new things and becoming a new person. Alcohol convinced you he needed him to have a good time. And for most of the time with Alcohol as a classmate in college, nights with no memories just felt like innocent fun.

I'm not sure where or why my old friend turned on me or when our friendship went wrong, but shortly after college I realized that he no longer gave me the same feelings of freedom that he did during my four years on campus. Instead of relishing in the endless possibilities that life after college offered, I began focusing on the life that I didn't have but desperately wanted. Alcohol began convincing me that I needed him in my life even more because I was so incredibly unlovable that he was the only one who would always be there. He made me lie to my friends and put on a happy face while crumbling on the inside at the sight of their contentment with their own lives. No one knew how dangerous our relationship had become because we were still in the age of innocent fun. Twenty-three was still young, fresh and free! What worries were there to have on a Friday night with new friends and the ever present college buddy?

About a year and a half ago, I woke up and found myself looking at a person I didn't recognize. What had my old buddy done to the girl I once was? That confident, determined and vivacious girl my parent's had so lovingly raised had been swallowed whole by the false promises and deceptive lies told by Alcohol. For the first time in my life, my old friend wasn't looking so cool, so fun or so enticing.

My life has changed because of ending that friendship or maybe because I ended that friendship my life has changed. Either way it's really not a part of my life anymore because I have found contentment in myself. I don't have to rely on Alcohol to make me feel better about myself or to fill the void that was at one time so painfully present.

The break in our friendship hasn't always been easy. Although it has allowed me to form new friendships I think it might be creating divisions in old. I understand that Alcohol might not have this same relationship with everyone, but unfortunately this is the relationship that I had and regardless of any situation...I'm going to protect what I've built. Because from what I personally know of Alcohol, he likes to destroy who I am and anything good I believe about myself. I'm not willing to allow him into my life in that capacity ever again.

Because for the first time in many years...

I am content. I am happy. I am finally and truly free.

Are you there God? It's me...Laura.

It's no secret that God and I have been very distant in the past few years - since my Senior year of high school, really. I was super involved in the church for most of my high school years, but for some reason...more exposure to the real world, I suppose...I became disenfranchised with the whole "God will save all" idea. Probably because I realized first hand that bad things did happen and I questioned where God was at those times.

Anyways. I went through college basically a faithless neaderthal who, at times, was worshipping the porcelain god more than the God I had been taught through years of Catholic religious education. I was in that in-between stage of having been taken care of by my parents and being completely self-sufficient. For some reason, I believed that I could and had to take care of everything on my own...pull myself up by my bootstraps one might say. I looked at people who relied on "God" and "faith" to help them through a difficult time as weak individuals who weren't emotionally strong enough to do it on their own. I truly did not believe that there was any higher power looking out for me.

Or maybe, deep down inside, I knew that what I was doing wasn't something particularly "sanctioned" by God...and I was ashamed. Kind of that "I'll break up with you before you can break up with me" thing.

I started praying to God for an answer to my "why is everyone else falling in love and getting married and not me" dilemma when I started writing this blog...and for a year and a half, I didn't get an answer. The answer was sitting right in front of my face the entire time but I think that I was praying not just for a man to stand at the end of an altar, but for a real life-long-best-friend-soul-mate person. And I know now, looking back, that God knew what I truly wanted, but yet he also knew that both myself and my LLBFSM person needed time to get things straight in our own minds before we could be happy together.

So then he was there and I thought to myself that all my prayers had been answered...I hadn't been forgotten by God, although I frequently forgot about him. Oops. But then he screwed up and again, I had to rely on what little faith remained from my years of disillusionment and believe that he was telling the truth. And everything turned out very well...which has led to me thinking this God character might be a pretty important person to invest more time, energy and emotion into.

I've just started praying little prayers here and there:

Prayer: "Please God, give me the patience to encourage my volleyball team this year to do their very best."
Outcome: My team was in the top 4 of the district at the end of season tournament.

Prayer: "Please God, give me the strength to fight these cravings."
Outcome: I quit smoking this summer. Applause is welcome.

Prayer: "I know that God has the right house out there for us."
Outcome: We're moving into the most beautiful first home on Thursday!

Prayer: "Please God, don't let him go to deep. I know he's hurting and there's nothing I can do to change it. Please....show him that he's okay..."
Outcome: It's a daily prayer and it always will be...but so far - he's doing very well.

Those are just a few of the ones that I can truly remember at this point in time. But the moral of the story is that I'm coming around on the God thing. Still not to the point of an actual church attendance...but the spirituality is returning.

New Year, New Me?!

I'm beginning my 4th year of teaching this week and I must admit that it kind of tripped me out at first. I remember being the "baby" of the faculty...just kind of floating along and letting people take care of things for me. Coincidentally much like the same way I lived my life when I was younger and the "baby" of the family. In my first full year at the school I teach at, I was the bubbly, outgoing and eager young teacher - always up for a happy hour and trying to make everyone like me. To a certain extent, I still felt that same "youngness" last year even though it was my 3rd year teaching.

But something in the past year has switched. I've changed...no...I've evolved. Feel free to disagree, but I feel that I have gained a level of maturity about what is important in my life and where my priorities lie. My circle of friends at work has grown smaller, but closer. The number of evenings and nights out has diminished greatly, but yet the contentment and satisfaction in my life has flourished.

I look back on the girl who started teaching 3 years ago and I imagine her as a little girl dressed up in her mother's clothes. I was trying so desperately to figure out my place in the grownup world, but I ended up realizing that you can't "find" your place in the world - you have to create the person you want to be. I feel like I honestly had an awakening in the past year as to what is truly important...
- the fact that a person brought you your favorite meal from Taco Bueno because you sprained your ankle.
- giving kids the benefit of the doubt and showing compassion and concern.
- spending time with the family...thanks to my appendix I remembered how good it feels to just be in my parent's presence (and home cooking!).
- friends that know if you don't talk for awhile it's nothing personal...everybody's life is getting busier but that doesn't mean they don't come running when you need them.
- being myself.

I feel as if I've started another year at the school, but people expect me to be the same crazy girl that I used to be.

Case in point: it was my appendix - NOT a hangover!!! :)

To a certain extent, I'm embarrased of the person that I used to be - because she was completely out of control and incredibly immature. Not to say that I'm not still immature. I can't help but giggle everytime someone says the word "balls," which is unfortunate since I do coach volleyball...

Regardless, there has been a major shift in my outlook, my persona, my interactions with people, my level of commitment, and my priorities.

Wow, you must be thinking. Where did all this come from?

Let me tell you - he's a pretty inspiring person. He has inspired me to completely be myself and cherish who I am. He has challenged me to approach life's sticky and uncomfortable situations with maturity, dignity and grace...yet allowed me a safe place to be completely silly. I haven't CHANGED who I am or what I believe in by any means. I think he's just encouraged me to be my "adult" self.

Of course, there have been other contributors - I couldn't have done it without three very important co-workers. Women who have not too long ago been in my position. All three who have come from entirely different backgrounds, lifestyles and mindsets...yet are all incredibly successful and supportive of my personal growth. I have really looked to them as to how to not only handle the professional world, but find balance and contentment in my personal life as well. I hope that they have seen a growth in me...and I hope they know how grateful I am that they took the time to help me along the way.

It's almost as if I have women in my life showing me along the way of who I am at the present time, ten years down the road or so, and then the ultimate impact I want to leave on the world.

In the present, my personal friends - the ones with whom I shop, eat, drink and lean on. They cultivate the persona that I am right now...and as we get older, we will all mature at more or less the same rate. They almost serve as a mirror as to my position in life - the fears, frustrations, challenges and triumphs of being in your mid twenties. We experience everything together and find our way through this grown up world by leaning on each other.

Then there are my co-workers, most of whom are approximately 5 to 10 years older than me. Generally married and some starting families. They show me my nearest goals - what I want to be in ten years. Married, successful, confident, compassionate, fun....and content with who they are and their place in this world.

And then we come to my mother and grandma. Two women that have had several lifetimes of experience and learning. They embrace life and all it's challenges, quirkiness, irony, gloriousness and beauty. There is no experience that they do not learn and grow from...nor is there one that they haven't endured with grace, dignity and a wry sense of humor. I want to eventually be their age and look back at my life with a triumphant and satisfied smile at the life I have lead.

So...in conclusion...I have a lot of people to be grateful to in my life. More people than could actually fit in this blog at this point in time (I do have to get up early tomorrow!). I can't forget my patient and hard working father, nor my playful and protective big brothers. But those shout outs must come at a later time. I have the youth of America to raise at a VERY early time in the morning.

My List

I turned 25 last week and while filling out a survey on myspace, I realized something...I'm going to be 30 in five years. Not that I'm afraid of turning 30 - but I see it as a sort of milestone and a slight turning point in my life.

So...on a recent flight home from my birthday celebration in Las Vegas, I began thinking about my place in life (very content with it currently) and where I want to be in five years. So, I began making a list of things that I wanted to do before I turn thirty and then...it just kept going.

Here it is...

Before I turn 30, I will...
- pay off my car and NOT immediately buy a new one!
- buy a house. I'm tired of renting!
- go back to Italy with just my mom and take it more leisurely.
- find a church where I can find faith and attend regularly.
- get a really awesome dog.
- buy and keep plants alive.
- take a cooking class and learn more than just pasta.
- learn to speak Italian.
- participate and volunteer in a non profit organization.
- VOTE! VOTE!! VOTE!!!
- make a list of places to go and start checking them off!

Before I die, I will...
- go on a really long mission trip to a third world country.
- write a book of my life and experiences for my children like my Grandma did.
- have a daughter and name her Elizabeth and raise her in my Grandma and mother's images.
- marry my best friend.
- make sure I've left the world a little better than it was when I entered.
- READ! READ!! READ!!!
- LEARN! LEARN!! LEARN!!!
- Go to the Olympics.

My summer vacation is coming to an end in the next couple of weeks and it has not gone exactly as planned, but I have grown up just a little bit more and learned more about myself and the life I want to lead.

I felt betrayal, but learned unconditional forgiveness.
I felt like throwing a fit, but learned to speak so that things got sorted out.
I felt excrutiating nausea and pain in my abdomen, but learned it's not ALWAYS a hangover.
(Those appendixes are tricky!!)
I can't stand not knowing, but learned being surprised is half the fun.
I have become my own adult, but remembered how good it feels to be taken care of by my mother.
I feel anxious and have cravings, but I realize for the happiness of my future - it's better to quit.

Awhile back, I blogged about how I wanted contentment. Not eternal happiness, but contentment. It might not last forever, but in this moment - I feel content. I look around my apartment, see my couches, my curtains, my furniture, my pitures, my bedding, my clothes, my mementos, my movies, my books - and I see myself reflected back. And I'm proud of the person that I am. I am proud of the people in those pictures. I'm proud of the relationships I have and even more proud of the unhealthy ones that I have either let go of, or stopped depending on.

The thing about growing up, is that it truly never is over. I remember my Senior year of high school, I reflected on my four years of high school and couldn't believe how far I had come in just 4 years. I did the same at the end of college...and then my first year of teaching...and now I'm just looking back 8 months. Although I know that I started this most recent growth process on my own, I couldn't have done and can't continue doing it without the loving support of that best friend turned boyfriend I talked about awhile back.

Yes...the very same one who royally screwed up at the beginning of the summer. We've moved past that incident - but no, even though it was forgiven, it has not been forgotten. On that note, a little explanation: I couldn't sleep one night because I was so ANGRY with him. I wanted to just love him the way that I used to, but because of his crappy judgment call, I couldn't. So...I prayed. A lot. I prayed to God and I prayed to my Grandma. Not just for everything to be okay, but for a real resolvement of the situation. Tears were shed and it was sometimes hard to breathe. But then I heard this clear voice...and believe me - it wasn't that little voice in my head. It was some other being, presumably my Grandma, and it told me this: I can't love him the way I want to until I truly forgive him. I realized I was going about things the wrong way and therefore in order to release the anger, I had to forgive first. So, against my more logical judgment, I did what the voice inside told me...and it worked. He and I talked. And talked. And talked. I asked questions and he gave answers. The situation is resolved and he knows the expectations that I have for the future. In short...we're back together and actually more connected and stronger as a couple. That's a big lesson for me fo sho.

Clusterf*ck

Yesterday sucked. Finding out my boyfriend had lied to me and jetted off to Miami with his ex-girlfriend? Definitely a day for the record books. After some liquid therapy, lunch and a pedicure, I was feeling better. I visited with my friend Kate and my mom in person, as well as with others over the telephone. The hardest part was wrapping my head around the fact that he had gone round my back to do something that he knew would upset me. It was deception pure and simple. I was and still am very hurt. And the hurt was particularly deep because I didn't expect this from him - I thought that he had respect for my feelings and for our relationship. I had so many emotions running through my head at once, I honestly thought I might explode. The funny thing is...I was laughing throughout the whole day. Because 1) I didn't want to cry and 2) the whole situation was so absurd. It was truly a clusterf*ck of emotions.

But, I did talk to him last night for about an hour. I didn't necessarily "let him have it" but I expressed every emotion and feeling that I had throughout the day. I'm not sure if he still really understands the depths to which he hurt me. I think I'll have to see his face when he looks me in the eye to know for sure.

So....where are things with us right now? I'm not particularly sure. We made a step last night towards reconciliation because he did listen to me and he admitted both guilt and remorse. He knows that I don't trust him. I flat out told him that there was no way that he was going to be able to talk his way out of this one. What he did was wrong and that's that. No getting around that fact. His relationship with her needs to be remodeled. There are a few of my exes that I'm still in contact with, but my main priority is always the person that I am currently involved with. You have to have that boundary and know where your priorities lie. His priority should lie with me. I didn't feel that yesterday.

I felt small, duped, insignificant, a "Trophy" girlfriend, dumb, naive and used. I want to have sympathy for this woman because what she has and is going through is quite tragic. But when her problems cause problems in my relationship, that's where my sympathy stops. Where in his thought process did he think "How is this going to affect 'The Cheese?'" I hate being that girl that screams "What about me!" But seriously...what about how I was going to feel about this little vaca to Florida? He deliberately didn't tell me he was going because he knew it would upset me. To that, I responded - then you shouldn't have gone. It makes sense to me, that if I know something I was going to do was going to deeply upset and hurt my significant other - I wouldn't do it! Yes. This point was reiterated over and over and over. I shot down my exes innocent invitation for wakeboarding sessions on the the lake this summer because I knew it would upset the bf. I mean, seriously. That doesn't even COMPARE to him buying plane tickets, reserving a hotel and jetting off to Miami with HER.

I was the one that was there when she broke his heart. I was the one that patiently helped him pick up the pieces. I drove to Fox and the Hound at 11:00 one cold Sunday January night. I am loyal to and protective of his heart because I have seen what happened when she broke his heart. How could he turn around and do that to me? With HER of all people? Seriously?

I know that I'm still angry. He can't expect me to get over this one in 24 hours. Trust is broken. When I found out where he really was, I immediately ran my brain through all the times when he was going to stay at his "mom's" house, or the times he was texting for "business." I am doubting everything I heard or saw him do...or more importantly, the things I DIDN'T hear or see him do. This is going to take a lot of time and work on his part. He has to show me that he is worth my trust again. That he is fully, 100% committed to me. I also have a lot of work to do as well. I have to maturely discuss my frustrations and anger with him. Unfortunately, I don't think that involves the swift kick to the nuts that he really deserves. Once I vent my fellings...that's it. I have let him know how I feel and the ball is in his court as to whether or not he would like to truly be with me.

But once I vent...I have to let him be about it. I can't keep shoving his nose in what he did wrong. That's only going to create a division between the two of us. Me, holding this hurt over his head while only torturing myself by keeping the anger around. Him, cowering in the fact that I have this power over him while only making him resent the fact that I'm not letting him out of the shackles.

But just because I let go of the anger doesn't mean that I automatically forgive him. Forgiveness is earned and I can't just forgive him because I'm tired of the work and effort that will have to go into rebuilding our relationship. But once I forgive him...I can't keep punishing him. Like in SATC when Carrie keeps punishing herself for cheating on Aidan with Mr. Big. If I tell the bf that I forgive him, I can't use this situation as a trump card in a disagreement six months into the future. If I forgive him...I must truly mean it.

Will I forget what he did? Never. It's going to take me a long time until I'm not suspicious about text messages and what he's doing when he's not with me. Although I'm confident that nothing physical occurred between them...it's emotional cheating. There will be parameters set with their relationship. If he wants to be with me, he has to let go of her. I hate to be the girlfriend that declares an ultimatum...but come on. He flew to Miami with her.

Ugh. Why is he so retarded? He has a brain - why didn't he use it?

Wasted Energy

I've spent my life wasting energy on being angry. Angry at the kids who tormented me for being tall in elementary school, angry at my mother for not being what I thought I wanted her to be in middle school, angry at God for making me the way I am, angry at the superficial girls in my sorority for making me feel less than them because I didn't have the right clothes, boyfriend or car, angry at David for leaving my life in such shambles, angry at so many guys for tossing me aside.....but mostly, I've always been angry at myself for everything I am and everything that I'm not.

I have spent a lot of time moving forward along in life, but yet at the same time, looking back at events in my life and how they have created the person I am today. Retrospection can be a good thing - learning from past mistakes, such as bad haircuts, too much alcohol on an empty somach and not studying for tests. But blaming the way I am on things that have happenend in my past? I can't blame my insecurities on other people any more.

I've been angry at myself for not being "perfect." For not always knowing exactly what to say, when to say it and how to deliver it without stepping on any toes. For not always looking perfectly put together. For not having this adult life totally figured out. For not keeping everyone around me happy with me. An entire doctorate thesis could probably be writeen on my self-anger. But what has it led to? At certain points in my life it has shown itself in the form of self destructive behaviors like drinking excessively. At others it surfaced as devastating anxiety attacks. Most recently it was a deep and debilitating bout with eating disorders. Were any of these healthy? Obviously not. So therefore, one could logically conclude that the self-anger isn't working out for me anymore. Well, it was never really working out for me, but it has definitely taken a turn for the worse recently.

It's time for a new life plan - a mental adjustment you might say.

I can't be angry at myself for any of those things anymore. The only thing that I can be angry about is that I haven't noticed this sooner, which is again - counterproductive.

I've doubted myself every step of the way - was I wearing the right clothes, did I say the right thing, am I making the right choice? I always looked to other people for the answers because I never trusted myself enought to come to the right conclusion. And, if things didn't work out the way they were supposed to, I didn't have to take any of the blame - I could just pass the buck on to someone else's poor decision making. But why shouldn't I trust myself? Look at my parents - they are responsible, well adjusted adults. They have provided me with more than enough tools to become a functioning adult on my own. But more than a functioning adult (anyone can pay the bills on time) but an acutal functioning human that learns to adequately cope with day to day events.

Life is short. At the end of a person's life, they don't look back and regret not staying angry at themselves or other people for longer amounts of time.

This anger takes up so much of my time and energy. And it's pushing people away.

I remember the moment when I woke up one morning and I was tired of being angry at David. I realized that he wasn't a part of my life anymore and therefore blaming him for me having a crappy Tuesday afternoon wasn't working. I refused to give him anymore power over my feelings.

Therefore, today I am refusing to give the power to that little voice inside my head that tells me I'm not good enough because I'm not perfect. I was made exactly the way God intended me to be.

I must come to reconcile the fact that I'm going to make mistakes. People will get angry with me. I will have to deal with the consequenes of bad decision making. I can't go through life desperately trying to tip toe around anything and everything that might cause me failure. In my head, I always was of the notion that failure wasn't an option. Growing up as an athlete, it was a phrase ingrained into my head. Of course failure isn't an option, because if it was, everyone would obviously choose success. Failure is an inevitbale event. It will happen in my life and I can't keep avoiding situations in which I could possibly fail. If I do that, nothing exceptional will ever happen. I will never have the life I truly want; more importantly, I will never have the love that I desire.

I have been so decided determine din my life not to screw up in relationships, that I think I actually end up being my own worst enemy because I lose who I am by turning myself into a pretzel trying to be the "perfect" girlfriend. And now I think I might have someone in my life who sees me not through rose-colored glasses, but with a clear view of who I am and what I'm about. And my own insecurities are getting in the way of allowing him to love me in his own unique manner. As much as I realize that I'm not perfect, nor will I ever be, I must come to the logical conclusion that he is not perfect either, nor should I expect him to be. He will make me mad sometimes. And I will most certainly piss him off as well. Is this the end of the world? It shouldn't be. I should have the confidence that I'm a pretty spectacular person and even though he might not want to be around me because of his frustration, that in no certain terms mean that he's throwing me away. I guess I have to trust him and trust his feelings for me. But at the same time, that pesky self-anger issue sneaks up again. In retrospect, I look at how I behaved and I agree with him - he should be angry at me, which in turn makes me angry at myself for my actions. Then the evil self-deprecating cycle begins and before you know it, I am in a very bad and dark place.

So what's a girl to do? How exactly does on banish that nasty little voice in her head? Grab an old priest and a young priest and hope one doesn't end up head first down the stairs? I think the voice will respond best a big fat dose of "SHUT THE HELL UP."

What's Love Got To Do With It?

All throught this blog, which has spanned the course of one year of my life, I have discussed my relationships and issues with men. I've talked about what I want in a man, the trouble I had finding one that matches my needs and wants, and I have touched upon my stormy past with certain young men. But never once have I truly broached the subject of love.

There have been great sonnets and renowned literature written about love. If not for the concept of love, Hollywood and the music industry would not have made millions. Real people have lived for love and died from it. The word is tossed around so carelessly in our culture. "I love that shirt!" "Have you heard the new Madonna song? I totally love it!" (Yes, I have heard it. And yes, I totally love it.)

But what does love truly mean and what form will it take in my life? What form do I want it to take? What do I expect when I hear those words or feel that emotion from someone?

I suppose each individual's first impression of love is that of their own parent's relationship. I got lucky. My parents were college sweethearts and were married after only nine months of courtship. They are currently approaching their 40th wedding anniversary. When asked how they got married so quickly, my mom just answers "I just knew." I can't decide if I like a hair color enough to keep it for nine months, much less the rest of my life...

I want a marriage like my parents': supportive, understanding, compassionate, passionate and stable.

My parent's relationship reminds me of that story of the two swans on the farm. A grandfather is telling his grandson about how swans mate for life. One day, the female swan is found dead in the pond and the male swan is visibly upset. The grandson says that the male will find someone else - he'll be okay. The gradnfather predicts that the male swan will soon die from grief over his partner. A few days later, the male swan is found dead in the same spot as the female swan. Soon after, the grandmother passes away, followed a few months later by the grandfather. My parents are like that. It's not that they physically can't live without each other in some sick, addictive, co-dependent relationship...it's that they don't WANT to live without the other one.

Their love has transcended the passionate infatuation and graduated to this state of complete connectedness and partnership. They aren't just a married couple - they're best friends. I want to marry someone who is my best friend because one day the initial passion will face and I will have to have something left over. Unfortunately...statutes set by the state of Texas and because she ran off with a Mexican sailor...I can't marry my best friend Amy. Just kidding. But weirdly enough...she did marry someone exactly my height and with a similar personality. :)

Have I ever been in love? I've been infatuated. I've been filled to the brim with lust. I've been co-dependent. I've worn the blinders. But the type of love that my parent's have? Even the prospect of that love? Nope. Never even close.

I know that someday I will have that love. Will it happen like in my favorite love indulgences The Notebook, Love Actually or Gone With The Wind? Will I be awoken by my true love's kiss after biting a poisoned apple? Will I get a letter from God telling me the plans he has for meeting my true love? Probably not. But I have faith. I will have that love in my life eventually because I want it. And I always get what I want.

I know what I do have though. I have a best friend. A drinking and watching sports buddy. An "I'm having a horrible day and need a hug" support system. A conversation-just-by-a-look psychic partner.

I have seen this person at his absolute worst and it terrified me. It was so frustrating - being able to so clearly see all the amazing things I loved about him; the reasons I was his friend. But he couldn't see it for himself. Because I was his friend, I didn't fix him...for once...I allowed him the space and time he needed to do it for himself. Like I told him "I will support you 110% as long as you're doing something positive to change you life." And he has come through a completely amazing person - which is even more reason for me to be proud of him and love him. He supported me through a devastatingly depressing time in my own life through which I was repeatedly hurting both myself and the people around me. But he didn't abandon me despite my constant pushing away. I hated myself so much and I didn't want anyone in my life to be a part of it. But he was persistant. He loved me when I couldn't love myself.

But everything about our friendship hasn't been doom and gloom. We've laughed at inane and ridiculous things, we've celebrated each others victories and talked shit about our defeats. We've high fived at Mav's games and grumbled about the Cowboys' playoff loss.

Our friendship hasn't reached the point when I could say that I know everything about him - because even my mother quotes that she doesn't know all of the recesses of my father's mind. But, I can anticipate what he is and isn't going to say, how he will feel about something and most importantly...I know when to just walk away and let him be.

I once asked him "What do you like about me?" And he, being the enormous wordsmith that he isn't, just shrugged his shoulders and said "I just like who you are." At first I was completely frustrated with his lack of response. I delve into topics, entirely dissceting it to the nth degree. I could be that person writing the sonnet about what I like about him becasue I am never at a lack for words. How his eyes twinkle when he knows he did or said something that made me laugh. His total and unwavering loyalty to the people he cares about in his life. The way he truly doesn't care about what people think of him. The list could go on.. But he just summed it up in six words for me. I pressed for more specific information, but there was none forthcoming. I had to be content with what he said. So, after chewing on the words for awhile, I came to a conclusion: I am who I am and he likes that. It's that simple. I don't have to put on pretenses about who I am. I don't have to change myself in order to be more appeasing to him. I just have to be myself. Which has proved repeatedly to be one of the more challenging tasks in my life. He has provided me with a reason to be okay with myself - he accepts my slight craziness, my occasional outburst, all of it. He wipes away the previous notion that I held about being completely unlovable. Sure, I know there are things about me that he gets frustrated with - I have a hard time making decisions at times, I overreact about small issues and stress myself out, you know - I act like a girl sometimes. He just takes it all in and rolls with it.

But, is this love? I can look in his eyes and be moved. I am comforted by his presence. I am so filled with contentment at the sight of his personal happiness. I worry about him overworking himself. We can sit in silence together and it's not awkward.

I don't know if it's that lifetime love, but I know that he's my best friend and I don't want to not have him around in my life.