“happy 3rd” is for my husband; on this date in 2008, he made me the happiest woman in the world.  we exchanged vows in my high school chapel in front of our closest friends and family–we said, “i do.”  and more importantly, we said, “i will.”

true, it may be odd that we chose to tie the knot on independence day, but there are some perks.  first, we get the day off, no matter what.  (yes, we’re both teachers, so we have the whole summer off, but if we ever have to find ourselves employed in the summer, we’ve got the national holiday guarantee.) second, no mail comes on the 4th, so we get to celebrate our anniversary in the days surrounding, every time we receive a card!  third, there are always fireworks to watch–i suppose this would not be true if we ever traveled internationally on that day, but, that won’t happen for awhile anyway.  fourth, restaurants are very empty on the 4th because everyone’s grilling.  fifth, we’ll never forget the date of our wedding.  ever. 

so, on july 4, 2011, as i do every day,  i WILL reaffirm this vow–tim, i will love you and honor you all the days of my life.

well, sort of.  i’ve been busy, to say the least.  motherhood has flung me into a whirlwind of activity and emotion.  i’m not sure i can begin to describe how amazing the past year has been, so i’m not even going to try.  suffice it to say that the photobooks i’m making are voluminous. 

“Mister” is truly amazing!  i am in constant awe of his personhood.  watching him grow these last 13 months has been truly inspiring.  it blows my mind to realize that how, just one year ago, this tiny little person needed me for everything.  everything.  he was so cute, but all he did was eat, sleep, and make dirty diapers.  that’s what babies do.  and now, he is this wonderful little person!  he can walk or crawl anywhere he wants to go, he can feed himself, and he can communicate his needs with simple words and signs.  but my favorite thing about him is his intelligent sense of humor.  even at 13 months old, he knows how to be funny (making fish faces, attempting to tickle me, playing footsies, hiding or “running away” when we try to catch him).  he’s also so sensitive to others’ emotions.  when he sees or hears laughing, he laughs along; when he sees me sad, he cuddles quietly next to me. i don’t have to beg for kisses anymore–sometimes, he just leans right in and kisses me right on the mouth (with those awesome, slobbery, open-mouth baby kisses), and other times he grabs whatever limb of mine he can reach and lays one on me.  it’s really quite sweet. 

i think back to this time last summer, when i’d put Mister to sleep in his crib.  i’d stand there watching him, thinking, “he will never be this tiny again…”  and i’d be sad about that.  sure, there are times i miss holding my tiny baby who didn’t wriggle out of my arms and who stared and cooed quietly.  but i’m sure having the time of my life watching this tiny person grow and learn…. i just have to get my quiet snuggles after he’s asleep.

since early september, i’ve been receiving emails from various baby-related websites telling me all the “do’s and don’t's” of growing a baby.  i receive weekly updates on how big “baby” is growing and of all the new developments that are occurring within me.  i also see the countdown… and realize that in a mere 24 weeks (or thereabouts)  tim and i will get to meet this little miracle we’ve been given!

finally, now that i’m in the 4th month of this journey, there is finally some external proof that a baby is growing here.  it’s truly an awe-inspiring experience to watch my body change and grow, appreciate the changes–and for the first time in my life, NOT WORRY THAT I’M GETTING FAT! 

so far, only a few things have surprised me. 

1. that people REALLY DO feel that they are allowed to touch my belly.  AAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!  now, there are certain people who are allowed (and never have to ask)–my husband, my mom, my sister, and my doctor. that’s it.  if my friends and more extended family ask, i’d probably say yes.  i just need some warning and acknowledgement that it’s my body!  i mean, i’m not even a huge fan of hugs from people i’ve known less than a year. 
2. it’s hard to eat as much as i think i’m supposed to.  i looked at some sample menus, and what a mommy-to-be is supposed to eat in one meal is more than i would normally eat in a whole day!  i’m getting there, i think.  the trick for me is to graze all day long.  doing it that way seems to help fight off the queasies, too.
3. water tastes good, and pepsi does not.  as much as i love(d?) pepsi, it just doesn’t hit the spot right now (though, with lots of ice and a straw, dr. pepper is deeeeelicious).  and as hard as it was to choke down my 8 glasses of water a day, now, it’s seemingly a piece of cake. 
4. the ice cream craving does not hit everyone.  i am evidence.  i think i eat it even less now than i did before, which was not all that often to begin with.  and coldstone doesn’t even sound good.  though, when nothing else appeals to me, a milkshake will do the trick.
5. i miss HOT showers and baths.  and full blown yoga.  i have learned that heat and i do not get along these days.  i do sneak an occasional warm bath to relax, and prenatal yoga is ok, but i’m eager to get back to vigorous sun salutations in the summer!

i’m sure there’s a lot more for me to discover and be surprised about over the next 24 weeks.  and i will relish every minute (even though the not-so-pleasant moments) because never again will i be a NEW mommy-to-be…

even nicer than the wedding was the time we got to spend with cindy and lance, parents of the bride, mom’s good friends from college, my godmother and her husband.  sharing photos of the past year and catching up on life was wonderful–and a rare treat, as we saw them last just over a year ago at my wedding.  typically it’s several years between visits.

and for me, the time i got to spend with my mom was best of all.  i love it when the whole family gets together, but it’s a nice treat for me to get to spend time with mom alone.  we stayed in “grandma’s house,” a 2-bedroom home in a retirement community; no cable, no radio, no internet… so it was nice and quiet!  we relaxed in the morning when we woke up before the sun by 5:30 am (we were still on kansas time, 2 hours later), we drove a hot little nissan 2-seater around town to the mall and out to lunch, came back for afternoon naps, and enjoyed the quiet time with each other.  mom even taught me to knit!

as much fun as we had together, i have to say, there are some drawbacks to spending time in the great state of arizona.  first, the air is SO dry.  my throat still hurts from the lack of humidity.  second, everything is brown or clay colored.  i missed grass and trees.  third, it was HOT.  upper 80s to mid 90s was standard, and now i’m cold at home when it’s 67 degrees out!  fourth, the oranges were not ripe yet.  no fresh-squeezed oj for us. 

most people would never consider kansas a “green” or “lush” state.  but once you’ve spent a few days in the desert, kansas looks like a regular rain forest!  as we left the kansas city airport and headed back toward i-70, my mom and i turned to each other at the same time and said, “it’s so good to be back HOME.”  we could breathe easily again, there was moisture in the air, there were lush trees beginning to change color at the first signs of autumn, there was green grass along the highway, and the horizon was met by the clear blue sky rather than the “pincushion” of palm trees dotted along the landscape. 

i said to my mom, “i never really appreciated the old kansas jingle–’ahhahh kansas!’”  and in the words of another famous (albeit fictional) kansan,  it’s true, “there’s no place like home…”

that didn’t happen.  but you know what?  i think that was OK.  i know we were all looking forward to yoga (well, most of us were), but it turned out that we had a really great visit.  we’ve been practicing yoga together for nearly 6 months, and we finally got to know each other a little bit better!  the four of us ended up sitting on the porch for 45 minutes “practicing” our social skills rather than our yoga skills that night, but i’m sure we all got something out of it.  i know i did–i learned about my students and their interests, their backgrounds, and what brought them to this town.

so, even though we didn’t get to hold our yoga class, i still ended our session together the same way i always do, thanking my friends for the time we spent together…

“i thank you for sharing your practice with me today.  as the divine light in me honors the divine light in you, namaste.”

i started this book in the summer, around mid-july.  i read half of it in two nights–couldn’t put it down.  i read from 10pm until 2am the first night, and 11pm until 2am the second night.  then, my reading came to a standstill because of the start of the new school year.  finally, last week, i felt relaxed enough in my evenings to pick it up and read some more.  lately, staying up too late reading has not been an issue–my eyes close automatically by 10:00–so i decided to enjoy reading what i could each evening.  i just finished last evening, crying my eyes out, feeling sad and happy at the same time.

the story begins from the perspective of Aibileen, a middle-aged ”colored” maid for a twenty-something white lady, who appears not to even love her own baby.  the voice with which the author writes is so vivid, i felt like i got to know Aibileen in person.  she tells of the duties she has, serving meals, taking care of the baby, cleaning… and of the families she’s worked for, her life, and her heartbreaks…

then we shift to Minny, another maid, a sassy, tell-it-like-it-is woman who has trouble keeping a job because of her personality.  she talks of the deceit and accusations against her and how white women have a way of hurting her with smiles on their faces–and no remorse.  she finally finds a steady job with a woman who is rejected by her peers–a social outcast–and tells of the trials she has in working for someone who has never had a maid, and who doesn’t understand the so-called line between blacks and whites.

the final voice belongs to Miss Skeeter, a recent college grad, a liberal english and journalism major, who secretly supports the civil rights movement.  a brave woman in her time, going against what all the other white people in jackson believed, she tells of the risks she and “the help” take to get their stories told–to try to make the whole country aware of the relationships, good and bad, between “the colored help and their white ladies.”

my mom recommended this book to me after reading it in her book club, telling me that it was a wonderful read, very touching, and it brought perspective to her own childhood.  no, my mom did not grow up in the deep south with “colored” help.  she grew up right here in the middle of kansas.  she was not from a rich family, and she and her siblings were “the help” in their own home.  however, her grandmother, my great-grandmother, was herself, a hired domestic.  she cleaned and cooked and cared for the children of the “rich” families.  yes, she is white, and therefore of the same legal privilege as her bosses, but she was still “the help,” and lines were still drawn.  my great-grandma just turned 95, so i need to get these stories from her soon.  i hope to spend some time with her and ask her what her life was like then, what it was like working in that setting, knowing your family was taking care of themselves while you were taking care of other children.  

i highly recommend the read.  once you start, it will be hard to stop.  and make sure you have some tissues…

…

…

my mind is racing.  i just cannot wrap my head around this idea of estimating data for a survey!!!  who are these researchers?  what are they thinking?  is this valid?  please, GOD, don’t let the researchers think this is a good way of going about collecting information!!! 

now i’m wondering…  we see data all around us every day.  EVERYWHERE.  newspapers and shows, web polls, medical journals.  what if all data were collected this way? 

“excuse me, sir, do you have high blood pressure?  no?  ok, then just pretend that you do and answer these few questions about what YOU THINK would happen if you did….”

what the heck?  would you take any recommendations from that study?

“based on a study of 123 random men with high blood pressure (or not… some just pretended), we found that XYZ medication reduced symptoms in 95% of sufferers…(or so they think)”

makes me think twice about the way this society puts so much weight on rather arbitrary numbers.  and i’m even a real statistician!!!  oh, this hurts my heart the way people want “correlations” and “cause and effect” so badly that they’re willing to have people fabricate data!

this will be a good one to take back to my AP students to see what they think of the situation.  if they don’t get what’s wrong with the picture, i think i’d better find a new job…

each wednesday, my dear husband comes back to our room after his shower only to watch me roll out of bed and gingerly put my feet on the floor.  the serenade of snaps and crackles is deafening as my toes uncurl and the arches of my feet settle onto the carpet.  i release a sigh of “the good kind” of pain (you know, the kind of pain you have because you worked hard and felt good doing it…) as i hobble toward the shower, popping and cracking all the way. 

see, most wednesday mornings, i’ve just gotten a good, relaxing night’s sleep after teaching high school all day and dance classes all evening on Tuesdays.  i can deal with the pacing in front of the smart board and roaming about my classroom to make sure my kiddos are on task and actually doing math.  but the four hours on my feet, dancing in heels, getting my toes kicked and stepped on–that’s hard work!  but i LOVE it! 

if i’ve learned one thing over these years teaching dance, it is to take care of my feet.  if my feet don’t work, i can’t make money!  so i’ve come up with a few ways to ease the aching and prevent injury:

1. wear good shoes while dancing–padded insoles, comfortable heel height, good fit, real leather
2. keep the toenails in check–this may mean i don’t get to have the cute “french” look on my toes, but i’m ok with it.  at least my toenails aren’t cutting into my other toes…  i just keep a coat of color on to prevent the “boy feet” look.
3. soak in warm soapy or salty water–the bathroom sink works fine, but the footspa with heat, bubbles, and vibration is a once-monthly treat.
4. never, never, never pop blisters–not only is that yuck-o and potentially harmful by inviting infection, it also prevents natural calluses from forming to protect feet in the future.
5. footrubs from the husband–tim is great at this.  it never hurts, and he’s not particular about how rough my feet always look.  sorry, ladies and gents.  he’s mine.  he is not on loan. ever.
6. wear comfy shoes the next day–flip-flops, flats, anything ultra padded…

next on my list to try is a pedicure.  i’ve never had one, but am looking forward to the experience sometime soon.  i also love massage and reflexology, which i need to treat myself to again soon.

for now, though, as i go through the day, i appreciate the “hard work” feelings that i have radiating up from the soles of my feet into the soul of my being.  as much as i look forward to dance class again, i’m loving that it’s one week until next wednesday…

oh, my achin’ feet…