Three Years

Three years have gone by with nary a word from me. I'd like to say I've been writing somewhere else but I haven't, I've barely been journaling.

I miss writing. I miss the peace that comes with getting the thoughts out of my head. They've been stuck in my head for three years.

Three years!

My husband retired! Took two whole days off then began Career #2.

I have an almost 6th grader, an almost 3rd grader, and an almost kindergartener.

Three years!

I've...
What I have I done in three years?!

I directed a homeschool group for two of those years.
I took a year off from directing/tutoring and enjoyed being a homeschool mom for a year.

I ran my first 5k.

I went with my family to Disney, twice.

I turned 40.

I laughed a lot in three years, cried, too.

I played with my kids.

I made new friendships, strengthened old ones (even when they moved far away).

I've learned my weight won't make me happy but it can motivate me to change lifestyles.

I've learned I still enjoy running.

Three years!

I have missed writing. My fingers move across the keys with ease, the muscles remember. The words are trying to come out of my head a bit too fast, jumbled and senseless. I need to be writing. Three years is too long to go without writing.

I will write again, and this time I won't wait three years.

Updated, Finally

I can't believe it's been a year since I've blogged. I have many a note pad with blog ideas and partial blogs written out. Hopefully I'll get some finished some time in the near future.

If you're reading this from my blog, you'll notice I've updated a few things. I was long overdue for a update and now it's finally completed.

Now if I can just start writing, again.

{Back to School, Back to Writing} He Held the Keys

We stood not ten feet apart from each other.

Eyes locked, I was not backing down.

So much rage, no more room for fear.

Standing in the darkness,

I was not backing down.

The reason didn't matter, he was mad.

He was always mad.

I wasn't good enough.

It didn't matter anymore,

I was not backing down.

Not this time.

This time I'd make him do something.

Not just yell,

Not just belittle me,

Telling me I'm worthless.

This time, I was not backing down.

He would not hit me,

Although I had wish he would.

Then people might see him for what was,

An abusive husband.

I was not backing down.

I was leaving.

No more.

I deserved better than this.

I deserved to be loved.

I was leaving.

21 years old was not supposed to be like this.

I was leaving.

I turned.

I heard something whiz by my head.

I hadn't noticed he had been holding the keys.

He had missed!

I left.

I had held my ground.

I had gotten out.


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14 years ago I was married to, well, a jerk.  And after counseling I realized it wasn't going to get any better and decided something had to change.  I don't think I had told anyone about how he treated me but, I think, on some level, my mother knew.  And I want to thank her, Thank you, Mom.  You helped lead me to the counseling and you helped give me the courage to leave.  I love you.


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I'm writing with Creative Should, getting Back to School, Back to Writing. Come join the fun.

{Back to School, Back to Writing} By the Dashboard Lights

How many hours spent moving?
How many hours spent traveling?

this nomadic life

every three years
a new place
a new house
new friends
a new me?

every three years
longing for roots
a place to call home
family

family feels so far away at times
all the miles in between
so many road trips
so many miles

watching children grow up in pictures
longing for the days I could just play with them
now they're grown
teenagers
starting their own road trips

so many miles logged
so many miles spent staring out the window
wondering about the passing farm house
what life must be like growing up surrounded by corn
not traffic
not noise

in the quiet of the night
on the road for so long
the kids are finally asleep
no more yelling
no more tears

in the quiet of the night
I'm almost home
traveling the miles for family
taking as many moments as I can
before they grow up

in the quiet of the night
by the dashboard light
I catch a glimpse of my babies
already growing
already well traveled
already nomadic


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In the 18 years since I graduated high school I've lived in three different countries, seven different states, and have moved a total of 12 times.  Each of my children have already lived in two states and the youngest has visited 10.


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{Back to School, Back to Writing} The Beginning

I want chocolate!

What does that have to do with "The Beginning?"

I have no idea, I simply want chocolate.

The Beginning

I've spent much time the past two weeks preparing for a new year of Homeschooling.

I'm working on being more...

more prepared

more organized

more purposeful

more diligent

I'm learning what it means to model behavior.

Telling my children how important it is to read but never taking the time to read.

Teaching my children how to write but never sitting down to pen a letter

or write in a journal.

They occasionally see me on the computer but only my oldest has figured out that this is a type of writing.

So this year I'm starting fresh

I'm beginning anew

While learning about writing, I'll be writing with them

While learning about reading, I'll be reading to them {not just at bedtime}

We'll be memorizing poetry together

I'm not just teaching my children history and math, reading and writing, Latin and English grammar- I'm teaching them how to learn

And I'm learning

                   that it to be modeled.

I'm joining Creative Soul and following the daily prompts in effort to get back into the habit of writing. To show my children, words matter.

My Mighty Toddler

Holding him while he sleeps, he seems so small.

Even though his legs dangle well out of my lap.

And his head covers my entire bicep.

In his sleep he reaches and strokes my collar bone.

Chubby ivory digits so soft against my skin.

His hand is gentle,

precious,

small.

Lying in bed next to his sister, he seems so big.

He is the same length as she,

while she's curled in her fetal sleeping position.

His head perched on a pillow big enough for an adult,

yet it fits him.

He's no longer a baby.

My heart aches for time to slow down just a little.

Every day seems to move a little faster.

And he runs.

He runs with delight to keep up with his sisters.

He runs with determination to not be left behind.

He runs, leading the charge to the next game they will play.

He's running a race he doesn't even know.

And my prayers speed up.

I pray for the toddler he is,

The boy he is becoming,

And the man he will one day be.

A mighty man of God.

Five Minute Friday

Five Minute Friday: Comfort

GO.

The passage read, "Under His wings you may seek refuge."

The song came flooding back to me.

A song of my childhood.

Based on a Psalm.

Songs from God's people.

Sang so many years ago, adapted, changed here and there.

Or have they been?

A song about God's love.  His protection.  His comfort for us.  For me.

Under His great wings I can seek refuge, I can seek peace, I can seek the warmth not provided by the cold wet weather outside.

He is sufficient, His peace is complete.

He is my Comforter.

STOP.

Psalm 91
On Eagles Wings by Michael Joncas