on moving to Arizona

Historically, when I move somewhere new, it's a rough transition. The first week is new and scary and filled with homesickness: I miss the familiarity of old friends and family, the certainty of knowing the good grocery stores near me, the comfort of knowing all my possessions are in their place and not piled in boxes.

I was prepared to feel like that when we first arrived in Arizona. But the weird thing is, it never felt like that. It felt... like home. Right away. And every day since we moved, it has felt like this is the exact right place we need to be. Sam and I feel really good about why we're here and what we're doing. I'm assuming the magic of looking outside and seeing palm trees and cacti everywhere will wear off eventually, but for now, we can't get enough of our new place. Sometimes it scares me how smoothly the transition is going, and how much we love it here. Are we missing something? Or is it actually possible to move to a new place and fall in love immediately?

The short version: it's ridiculous here, and I love it.

The longer version:

I feel like we need to talk about the weather first. The weather is the first thing anybody asks about, and for good reason. This is inarguably the worst time of the year in Arizona. It's 115 degrees some days, it's the middle of summer, and there are monsoons every week. However, although I complained pretty badly about the heat in this post - dare I say it hasn't been too bad? 

The middle of summer in Arizona is like the middle of winter in a northern climate. You mostly stay inside. It's worth the extreme temperatures because the rest of the year has gorgeous temperate weather. And it's a super dry heat, which makes everything more manageable. I think I really will miss defined seasons though. 

Our interior house temperature is set to 79. SEVENTY-NINE. This is how I know we're insane. 79 is so hot. But weirdly, it doesn't feel hot? It feels so nice to walk into a 79-degree home when the outside temperature is thirty degrees warmer. (To my Canada friends: You better still come visit after this post! We'll turn down the temperature just for you!)

We're learning how to survive in such a crazy hot place. When we go somewhere, we always look for a shade spot in the parking lot. The second week I moved in, I had the washer, the dryer, the dishwasher, and the oven going - all at the same time, when it was 116 out, at the warmest part of the afternoon. Rookie mistake! It was terrible! Now we do our laundry and run our dishwasher late at night or early in the morning to save on our already ridiculously expensive energy bill. I'm even starting to learn how to precook things in the morning so our house stays even cooler.

A side note to all my local friends: I have a problem! When I was house hunting, people would list "north/south exposure" as a selling point, alongside granite countertops or a garage. I didn't get why anyone would bother to list that - until now. Claire's room faces due west, and it gets SO HOT in there every afternoon. The poor girl wakes up drenched in sweat from every single afternoon nap. We keep her blinds closed constantly, and put her down in nothing but her diaper, but are there any special blinds that work well to block the heat? 

So yes. It's hot here. But we're surviving. And there are awesome pools and splash pads everywhere.

People here drive fast fast fast. The highway speed limit is 65, but it feels like the minimum speed is 80. Lane changes take approximately 0.03 seconds, which freaks me out. But people are still courteous drivers. They use their blinkers, and if they see a merge sign, they merge right away. None of this sneaking up the lane and then nosing over at the last second nonsense. 

Our city, Tempe, is such a mixed bag. There are definitely good parts of town and bad parts of town. I ran into a Walmart once to grab something with Claire, and within two minutes, I turned around and walked out. I legitimately did not feel like my daughter was safe in that place. It was terrible. (The next week, I saw four cop cars with their lights on surrounding the two entrances as I drove past. It mollified me and made me feel like I wasn't just being a paranoid white girl.) Now, if I have to go to Walmart for any reason, I happily drive five extra minutes to the good one in the really nice part of town.

I guess I never realized how much I missed living in a more diverse place. I just got called to Young Women's at church, and myself and one other leader were the only white people in the room on Sunday. It's awesome even to just walk the grocery store aisles or go to the pool and hear people talking in different languages. There's a huge foreign foods section in the grocery stores here that I can't wait to try out. The produce here is amazing too - cheap, fresh, and so good. We have the most delicious fresh fruit with every meal. It almost makes up for how truly terrible the water tastes here. ;)

Sam's MBA program is going really well. I tell ya, they really hit the ground running in that program! Even during orientation, he was wearing business casual or business professional every single day, and going in on weeekends, and pulling late nights, and doing huge group projects. What happened to name games and campus tours during orientation?! So we hardly ever see him, but he's really liking his program so far. I'm so darn proud of that kid.

Before I moved down here, I heard such great things about the blogging community. And I'm happy to report that it's all true. I've been so fortunate to make awesome blogging friends down here, and live in a place where everyone encourages others and shares their success, instead of hoarding and comparing their success with others. Not to mention, it's nice to live in a market that's not incredibly oversaturated with blogs like Utah is! (That being said, I really really miss my Utah blogging friends. And all my friends and family in Utah.)

*Speaking of the awesome blogging community down here, all these pictures were taken as part of a shoot-out with two of my new friends, Cathy and Stephanie. It was so fun to talk blogs and photography mentors and get lots of pretty pictures while I'm at it!

I guess the bottom line is that we feel like the middle of this crazy hot desert, a place where only insane people voluntarily move to, is right where we're supposed to be, and that we're doing exactly what we're supposed to be doing. It's been a long while since I felt like that (since my last day of being a full-time teacher, if I'm being honest), and it feels so good to feel so good about everything.

Yesterday, we were driving to church, and I saw a huge cactus in someone's yard. 

"Sam!" I said. "Did you see that? Look how big that cactus is!"

"Cool," said Sam. So much flare and charisma.

"No seriously, look in your rear view mirror! It's gigantic!"

He glanced in the mirror. "Oh yeah, that is cool."

"When you graduate and we buy a home here, let's put a huge cactus like that in our yard."

"Deal," he said. And then we kind of looked at each other. Did we really just go there? Did we really just casually assume that we love it so much we'll stay here forever?

Who knows where we'll be or what we'll be doing a few years from now. All we know is that right now, this is the place for us, and we couldn't be happier. Unless the water started tasting good. :)

In a major funk. Send help.

The February Funk has arrived. Just in time for March.

The February Funk actually begins a few months earlier, during the holiday season. In November and December, things are crazy. You're here, you're there, you're everywhere. Christmas lights! Holiday parties! Shopping for presents! Traveling to be with family! Holiday performances! Crazy! Busy! Wonderful!

And then comes January. In some ways, January is one big sigh of relief. The holiday craziness is over. You get back to eating healthy and exercising. You have a regular schedule. It's so nice to be back on the normal routine, and your house seems three times bigger without garland and poinsettias on every flat surface.

And then comes the February Funk. Where everything is still normal. Too normal. There's nothing to look forward to. Every day is the same. You still have to eat healthy, you still have to exercise, you still have to stick to the tried and true schedule every day. Blah blah blah. Etc etc etc. And that's when the funk strikes. Apathy! Boredom! Trudging along day after day! All the great things on the horizon seem too far away to get excited about! Why I am using exclamation marks! I don't know!

The February Funk stayed away for almost the entire month of February. In fact, it was a really great month for me. The weather was fantastic! We took a mini vacation to Sun Valley with my family! Love day! Chocolate! Claire is cute! No funk in sight!

And then the end of February and the beginning of March arrived, and that's when the funk hit me.

I know what you're going to say. Try something new. Make a new recipe. Serve someone. Do a new craft. Go on a crazy date night. Go to the temple. And you're totally right. I should! I should do all those things. But somehow, the funk has seeped into my consciousness, and I have this incredible apathy towards everything. So I tried a new recipe. Yay. Blah. So I did a different workout today. Yay. Blah.

What's wrong with me? Am I going stir crazy? Am I one of those terribly unlikable high-maintenance people who requires something fun and exhilarating every few weeks or I get restless?

Blah.

PS It isn't all bad around here. A few snapshots of the fun things we've been doing lately:

Swimming! She loved the sights and the sounds and watching all the other kids splash around. Then we put her in the water and she started screaming. Too cold! I like my water steaming hot! You know this!

Snow! Just when I thought the last of our snow days were gone for good. Snow-covered mountains are some of my absolute favorite sights.

Scriptures! These never fail to help put me in a better mood.

Send help! 

Am I alone in this?

What do I do? 

How do I get out of this funk??

State of the Union:: The Emery Family

Did anyone watch the State of the Union address a few weeks ago? That speech totally cracks me up. I know historically it can be a pretty significant speech, but all the pomp and circumstance just makes me roll my eyes.

Either way, I put together a little State of the Union speech about our little Emery family union!

Please read this as if you were actually at the state of the union address. Meaning, I'd like you to stand and clap for a minimum of 30 seconds after every sentence you read. Unless of course you disagree with what I'm saying, in which case I'd like you to sit stony-faced and stare at the screen passive aggressively for the next 30 seconds. If this blog post takes you less than one hour to read, you're not clapping long enough.

(P.S. Thanks Bonnie for letting me use this post idea!)

photo by Ashley Eliza Photography

Sam - Sam is playing the waiting game. We're in the midst of making some big life changes. (We're moving to an island in the Maldives!) (Just kidding, but how cool would that be?) (Does anyone want to finance that trip for us?) All of Sam's paperwork and interviews are done, and the only thing that's left to do is sit and wait. It's hard feeling like your fate is in the hands of committees made of people we've never met. It can be a tough and stressful place to be in. But Sam does it as he does most things: sexily and with a beard. And we'll have some answers by the end of next week!

Brooke (that's me!) - I don't know what's wrong with winter this year, but I'm not complaining. It's been warm enough to go on a long walk every day - although my walking buddy moved, and I'm in desperate need of a new one. Tracy, if you're reading this, let's go for a walk today. In other breaking news, I went to Target yesterday and didn't get a single thing that wasn't on my list. First. Time. Ever. Which called for a celebration in the form of buying a little something for me from Target... ;)

Jason - Our ward of the state is as awesome as ever. Jason is one cool, iPod listening, bus-stop waiting, perennially "going to clean my room tomorrow" teenager. His band at school got into some sort of fancy schmancy state competition, which is exciting. Also, he's in an after-school club that builds underwater drones. Robots! With minds of their own! In twenty years, when robots take over the earth, we can all thank Jason. In other news, Jason woke up one morning last week and decided he was going to start being a teenager (in all the best and worst ways). I now owe a huge thank-you to my parents and anybody else who's ever successfully raised a teenager! 

Claire - Our obsession with Claire continues. Honestly, I don't see an end date coming up any time soon. Every time she learns a new trick, it's like she's the first baby ever to reach a developmentally appropriate milestone. Look, she's splashing in the tub! Look, she spit out her green beans! Look, she's trying to eat the balloon! Take a picture! Take a video! Send it to all our contacts! And I wouldn't have it any other way. This girl is growing up so loved, and that is a very good thing. We did have a stressful and sad trip to urgent care this week when she dislocated her elbow, but everything's back to normal now. 

So there you have it! The state of the union around here.

Happy Friday!

a funny thing happened on the way to the library

So there I was on a Thursday evening. Baby girl was tucked in bed, dreaming sweet baby dreams of one day being able to shove mom's phone into her mouth without being discovered. Jason was sprawled on the living room floor, doing a German poster for school (Wo ist Madsen?). Sam was taking a pre-bedtime nap.

I slipped out to run some errands. First, I dropped off half a box of too-small diapers to a friend in the ward with a new baby. Second, I went to the library to pick up my books on hold. Incidentally, those books are Unbroken and Rose Under Fire, because apparently I make my days merry and bright by reading two heavy-hearted books about World War II??

And then, pulling into the library parking lot, it happened.

Taylor Swift came on the radio.

Specifically, "Blank Space."

I thought of Taylor Swift's fantastic haircut in that music video. That's not an opinion, by the way. That's a universal truth. Her haircut was perfect in that video. And then I thought of a few of my blog friends and my downstairs neighbor who had recently gotten that same haircut, and how gorgeous they looked. And then I thought about postpartum hair loss -

I have to interrupt this story to bring you a public service announcement about postpartum hair loss. It can strike when you least expect it! I was totally fine for the first four months after I had my baby, and then all of a sudden, right when I had been lulled into a false sense of hair-retention security - WHAM-O! - my hair was practically falling out by the chunk and clogging the shower drain (ew gross, she talked about the shower drain on her blog) and my hairline is all wispy now. So beware, mothers everywhere. You never know when it's coming for you. End of public service announcement.

So anyway, I decided right then and there to get a fairly drastic haircut. If you've been reading this blog for a long time, you know this is monumental. Last time I cut my hair, it took literally months of deliberation before I got up the guts to donate it to Locks of Love.

I called my favorite salon before I chickened out and I said "Do you have any appointments open for tonight?" And they said "Tonight?" and I said "Tonight!" and they said "Wait, yes we do! How about 8:00? Can you be here in twenty-five minutes?" and I said "I'll be there!"

And then I ran in to the library to get my books and then I drove to the salon. An hour later, I was walking out sans six inches of my hair. And now my hair feels like a head full of hair, and not a head partially full of long, dead hair. Hooray!

Plus, I had a great conversation with the sweet girl who cut my hair. You know how usually you end up chatting about things like cute pea coats with your hairdresser? Well, pea coats are great, but my hair dresser is getting a Business Administration degree so she can open her own salon, so we talked about business plans and education and other cool things the whole time. She was fantastic.

And that is the story of the funny thing that happened on the way to the library. Das ende.

P.S. These pictures are basically one big misadventure in self-timer. Sheesh. It's harder than it looks when you don't have a remote or a tripod!

the best of simple little weekends

This weekend was one of the best I've had in a long time. We didn't have many plans for the weekend, but it sort of unfolded itself in a wonderful, relaxing way. Isn't it funny how the little unplanned things often turn into the best things?

On Friday, Sam and I went on a date. It was kind of last-minute, and we didn't have much planned. We ended up at our favorite local park, playing frisbee golf with a terrible old frisbee (if high score won, I'd be in the national championships). Then we began trying to scare each other in the woods and laughing like eight-year-olds before eating at a yummy taco place we'd never been to before. Often, our time as a couple centers around adult subjects- jobs, grad schools, kids, financial planning or lack thereof, blah blah blah - so it was really fun to just relax together. And then we stopped at the grocery store on the way home and got candy (see previous comment about how we're eight years old).

Saturday was a perfect mixture of relaxing, running errands, getting chores done, and getting in a good old-fashioned nap. We did a lot of snuggling baby girl, and enjoying this abnormally gorgeous November weather. We also went to a family lunch. It was so great to spend some time with cousins I don't see very often (and some siblings I don't see very often, for that matter!).

Sunday was spent at church, relaxing with my family, and baking a yummy dessert to enjoy with our favorite friends. Baking is a relative word, as the raspberry bars I made stemmed mostly from a boxed mix - but still, it was delicious.

I made Jason snap a few pictures Saturday evening when we stumbled upon this magical clearing with two horses in it. We've driven past the clearing loads of times, but we've only seen the horses one other time. Now I'm convinced that the horses are actually unicorns in disguise and the Emery family is now blessed with the gift of flight since the horses looked right at us and whinnied. It's totally normal.

Three cheers for simple little weekends, am I right?

And who's with me about the magical unicorn thing, because I'm serious about it...

A Year of Silver Lining (to my new readers)

I've noticed lots of new readers around here (woot woot!). If you're new to Silver Lining: welcome! I hope you'll stay awhile. Here's the basic version of what you need to know if you want to stick around this blog.

This is me: 

And here's a glimpse of what it's like on this blog, year-round.

SUMMER:  SNOW CONES

I mean, summer break is great. Sure, warm weather. Of course I'll take a pool day if an opportunity comes up. But snow cones?? Now that's where it's at. (Slurpees make acceptable substitutes for the winter months).

FALL: CRUNCHING LEAVES

Basically, a large portion of each autumn day is spent crunching leaves. Don't pretend you haven't crossed the road specifically to reach a pile of crunchy leaves before. Bonus points if you get a gutter full of them. Also, fall fashion is the best fashion.

WINTER: SLEDDING

The bad part about snow is the terrible snowy commutes I had to drive before the snow plows were out last winter. The good part about snow is sledding! Fun fact: my husband first started dating me after we went sledding together. He got a concussion from going off a jump, and that concussion must have knocked all the sense out of him because he wanted to date me after that, the poor sucker. Also, we like to go to ice castles.

SPRING: VACATIONS

Somehow, I end up doing most of my traveling in the spring. I guess it's a good time to get away from the drippy coldness to somewhere warmer? Other good things about spring include my 5th grade students going crazy, warmer weather, and Cadbury eggs during Easter season. Especially the Cadbury eggs :)

I hope you'll stick around here for a while! Check out the About Me page if you actually want to know what this blog is about :) 

Oh, and here's a picture of my darling new baby girl. We're obsessed with her around here, so if you're not into cuteness overloads, this blog may not be your thing.

P.S. If you also have a blog, leave me a link in the comments and I'd love to check it out!

Happy weekend.

on beauty, and my postpartum body

When I was 9 months pregnant, I remember looking in the mirror one day before I got in the shower. My belly was huge, I had gained 35 pounds, and I had stretch marks circling my belly button. Oddly enough, the thought struck me that I was more beautiful than I'd ever been before. The curves and extra softness were signs that I was growing a healthy baby.

Right then, I made a conscious goal to be kind to my postpartum body. I wanted to respect my body for what it's just done - grown and given birth to a fully-formed human being. Especially in these first six weeks before I have clearance to do anything but short walks and light stretches, I want to be gracious in my thoughts and actions towards my body.

So, here's my postpartum body (these were taken at three weeks postpartum). It's not back to its pre-pregnancy weight yet. I still have stretch marks around my belly button. I still have extra chubbiness in my thighs and around my face. Some of the clothes that fit me best are still maternity clothes. And you know what? I think I'm beautiful. Beauty isn't measured just by how you look. Yes, exercise and taking care of the way you look is very important, but it's not the ultimate measure of a person's worth (sorry Vogue). Bodies are good for what they do with what they are given. They are vessels to accomplish things - to learn, to grow, to reach new heights and help people. 

I hope I can have these types of conversations with my daughter as she gets older. There will be comments about her physical appearance. She already gets all the "she's so cute!" compliments that babies so often receive, and I personally think her eyes are gorgeous beyond compare. But I hope that's not where the conversation about her body ends.

I want my daughter to understand that her legs aren't beautiful because they're long or slender. They're beautiful because they can walk and run and hike and bike and carry her places. I want her to know that her arms are beautiful because they can throw and catch and carry things. Her face is beautiful because she has eyes that see, a nose that smells, ears that hear, and a mouth that can taste. Her hands won't be beautiful insofar as she puts nail polish or rings on them (although I like both and hope to paint nails with her someday). Her hands will be beautiful because she can use them to experience, to help, and to create.


So today, I'm making the choice to be beautiful.Yes, I still have some baby weight and those stubborn stretch marks, but I'm beautiful.  I'm making the choice to not focus on the imperfections, the limitations, what my body can't do. I'm focusing on what it can, and does, do. Today, I picked up my baby. I breast fed her and rocked her and soothed her and went on a walk with her. I saw and smell and heard and tasted and touched today. And so I will be kind to my body, because it has been so kind to me.

P.S. Sorry about the wacky camera settings - I had about a 30-second window of time to snap these pictures before baby girl started crying.

Last thing - I can't write this post about beauty and my postpartum body without mentioning infertility. It's a topic that is so near and dear to many of the people closest to me. Some of the most beautiful women I know are infertile, yet they use their bodies to help and nurture more people than you know. Whoever reads this, out here in this blogosphere, if you know of a child who needs a great home, please contact me. I'll send you on to the online profiles of some great people who would make fantastic parents. 

when it comes to the end

Today, I slid my nameplate out of its holder, locked my classroom for the last time, and turned my keys in. It's been a day of lots of laughter, and lots of tears (my kids said I should say I'm sweating out of my eyeballs, or else blame it on the fact that I'm pregnant).

Mostly, I want it down on public record that my years of teaching 5th grade at Meadow Elementary have been one of the greatest privileges of my entire life. I feel so overwhelmingly blessed to have been able to be part of that staff. I have been able to work with the most amazing students, parents, and faculty on the planet. They have taught me how to be a better teacher, friend, mom, and human being just by being around them.

Whew! Sometime soon I"ll stop crying. Goodness gracious.

And now - on to the next great adventure!

what I'm doing next year: one of the most vulnerable posts I've ever written

This is one of those posts that has been literally weeks in the making. I've known exactly what I wanted to say, but those dang sentences would never form in a cohesive manner! I've drafted, deleted, and drafted again. Maybe it was so tough for me to write this because I feel like this is a snapshot into the very center of my heart. The writer in me knows this post is still not perfect, but it's my best for now. It's also a very honest post, so please be nice to me, because I feel very vulnerable posting it.

For decades, I've wanted to be a teacher. For decades, I've wanted to be a mother. What I didn't think about was how those two roles would coexist, or even if they would coexist. For some reason, I didn't think about that at all until I got pregnant. Suddenly I was faced with a choice: should I teach or stay home next year?


What I didn't bank on was how much I would love teaching. How difficult it would be to think of giving it up. Honestly, I love it. Teaching is one of the hardest things I've ever done. Teaching gives me more purpose, joy, and meaning in my life than I ever thought possible. I like how productive I feel after working a long day, and I like that I work for education, which is one of the noblest causes out there. I love that my end goal isn't a new sale, or a pageview count, or a bonus commission, but the actual education of children. I love getting little glimpses that a student has recognized the value of education in their lives, that they learn to love feeling vulnerable, growing, and experiencing their world. Not to mention my amazing coworkers, who often know more about my life than my family, since I spend nine hours a day with them. I feel comfortable when I'm at school. My classroom is my little kingdom: I'm in charge and I accomplish things in there, and at the risk of sounding ridiculously arrogant, I think I'm good at it. Teaching is one of those things I believe I can actually do.


When I got pregnant, my plans for next year became a huge source of stress and internal conflict for me. I knew I loved teaching, and that it would always be one of the most meaningful things in my life. I knew I loved my little baby already, and that I would jump at any opportunity to be with her, to hold her, to love her. Also, this isn't popular among all people, but I believe that the ideal family situation involves one parent, preferably the mother, at home. But I also believe that women should pursue their careers if they want. I believe in the peace of mind that a second income provides to a family, especially a family that's still in the "just starting out" financial phases like us.


Sometimes becoming a mom scared me. Still does, actually. Scares me silly. It's just fear of the unknown. It's hard to leave something that I have experience with, that I'm comfortable doing, that I'm good at, for something totally brand new. What if being a mom exhausts me physically, mentally, and emotionally beyond what I can handle? What if I don't know how to provide for my child's needs? What if my world shrinks down to the mundane tasks of bottles, diapers, sleep deprivation, and one tiny person who can't even converse with me? What if something comes up and we need a second income?


I started asking advice from other moms/teachers I knew. The stay at home moms told me that 100% it was worth it, that even on the hardest days they NEVER regretted their choice to leave teaching, that they wouldn't trade time with their child for anything. The working moms I know told me that it's totally doable to work full-time and have a child, that daycare doesn't always have to be a scary place, that their job provides important financial security to their family even though it's hard to do. The working ladies who don't have kids told me that OF COURSE they would be stay at home moms if they ever got the chance.


That confused me even more. All sides had great points. I spent weeks avoiding thinking about it, because it stressed me out. (When will I learn that avoiding stressful topics actually stresses one out more?) When I was at school, I wanted to stay there and teach next year. When I was at home, I wanted to stay there and take care of my sweet baby next year.


Eventually, I told myself to get a grip, put on my big girl pants, and start praying about it. So I did. My husband and I had late-night discussion after late-night discussion about it. We prayed, read my patriarchal blessing, made pros and cons lists, and went to the temple.


One evening, Sam and I were sitting in our car in the temple parking lot, talking about next year. I was crying (surprise surprise) with the stress and indecision of this huge choice I was making. I remember rolling down the window and leaning my head back on the window frame to get some fresh night air. Looking up at all the stars that were out that night, I suddenly felt so close. So incredibly close to the spirits who are up there beyond the stars. Those spirits didn't feel like they were a million miles away, unfindable by man. They felt like they were right here, right now, with me in that car. I don't know if I was feeling particularly close to God or to my sweet unborn baby or to my mom, but I felt such a connection that night, and utterly surrounded by peace. Peace that I had never felt before. My tears dried up, my baby started moving around inside of me like she never had before, and I knew.


I'm not going to teach full time next year.


I remember sitting there with my head leaned back on the window frame for a long time that night, breathing the air and talking to Sam. After so much indecision and stress, just having an answer was a huge relief. We enjoyed the peace and the certainty and my kicking baby for a long time.


And then, I turned to Sam and wept. I wept because of what I was giving up. I wept because, even though I'm finding some part-time work, it won't be the same next year. I won't have my own class, I won't belong to 30 students who say I'm their teacher, I won't have the same little kingdom that I'm in charge of and comfortable with and good at leading. I'm really really going to miss it, and I wept because saying goodbye to being a full-time teacher for now will be really hard. And Sam just sat there all nobly, letting me get snot and tears and mascara all over his white shirt. That man is one in a million.


Eventually, I stopped crying. There's a time to cry about things, and then there's a time to stop crying and move on to better things. Also, I was getting a cramp in my neck from leaning over to Sam's shoulder. I took deep breaths, stole one last look at those stars, and rolled up the window. I gathered all the trust I've ever had in myself and mentally stored it away. And then Sam kissed me, said "let's do this, darling," and we drove home.

And that's how I made my choice about teaching next year.


Some important post-decision information:

• I'm still looking for something part-time. I love teaching, and teaching is part of who I am. That might look like a shared contract, or it might look like a specialty teacher, or it might look like after-school tutoring and piano lessons. I'm so incredibly happy that I get to keep teaching kids, and also be home with my baby. It's the best of both worlds. 
• I have felt so much peace since making that choice. This is huge, coming from a person like me who second-guesses EVERY CHOICE I EVER MAKE. I have never once gone back and wondered if I made the right choice. It has felt right every second since I made it.
• My choice has made me love teaching even more. It's easy to get dragged down by disrespectful students or problems with parents at school. But lately, since I know it won't be like this next year, I am just loving those kids and enjoying every second I get to spend with them. It makes me love this job more than I ever have, and appreciate everything about it. I want to be the best teacher I can be for my remaining months.

If you're still reading this, congratulations! You deserve a huge round of applause and possibly some chocolate for making it through this very dense post. I hope you know how much respect I have for the full-time working moms out there, and for people who have different viewpoints than my own. Working moms have strength and stamina I'm not sure I ever could have! I feel I should also mention that all the mascara and snot came out of Sam's white shirt, which I personally feel was another miracle of that week.


P.S. Two of my blogging friends, Bonnie and Tayler, are also posting today about their decision regarding teaching next year. Check out Bonnie's blog HERE and Tayler's blog HERE to read about their decision. We also decided to make this thang a link-up! If you have any posts about teaching, working, being a stay at home mom, earning income at home, or anything in that category, please link it up! I love reading about other women and their stories.







P.P.S. We decided to make this a giveaway too. Enter below to win $15 to Babies R Us! (Thanks Tayler for putting this all together!)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

If you're in a similar position, I'd love to hear from you! How did you decide what to do? Have you ever regretted it? What worked best for you?

24 on my 24th

1. I count constantly. Count the stairs to our apartment, the number of steps it takes to get from the kitchen to the bedroom, to 10 slowly before I get out of the shower.


2. Blood doesn't bother me, but needles sure do. I have to squeeze my eyes shut and take deep breaths the whole time when I'm getting a shot or my blood drawn.


3. Some nights, I'd rather curl up with a book than go out to a party.


4. When I'm tickled, I make all sorts of strange noises. Hisses, snorts, and the ugliest witch cackle the world has ever heard. Sometimes Sam thinks it's his duty to tickle me until some new weird sound comes out. Who knows what the neighbors think of us.


5. I'm not a breakfast person. Pour me a bowl of rice chex every morning for the rest of my life, and I'll be happy. A big breakfast upsets my stomach for the whole day.


6. I always have my nails painted. The one tell-tale sign that I'm super stressed and busy is that my nails are unpainted.


7. My patronus would definitely be something that lives in the water. Water is my element.


8. A pantsless world would be a better world. This will be my slogan when I run for mayor. I'll win for sure.


9. Speaking of when I run for mayor, when I'm elected the first thing I'll do is put a shaved ice stand every quarter mile throughout the city. And they'll all be open year round.


10. I sleep with tons of blankets. Mostly of the little fleece throw variety. One is named Blankie, because it's my favorite.


11. I have the best friends in the world. Last night some of my Oregon friends came over, helped me assemble 30 gift bags for my students, and gave me early birthday gifts (Al-o, Sarah and Talish, THANK YOU).


12. I love peppermint anything. 'Tis the season for bowls and bowls of peppermint ice cream!


13. Since I was born on the 19th of December, my 19th year was supposed to be my golden year. The first part of the year totally was, but my mom died in the second part of the year. I think golden birthdays are a myth now.


14. When I set my alarm at night, I check it at least 6 times. As in literally, I am unable to put down my phone until I have checked the alarm at least 6 times (10 on a bad night). It's OCD but I'm fine with it.


15. 78% of the time, donuts are just gross.


16. Half my class thinks I'm turning 21, and the other half thinks I'm 30. It's fine.


17. When I was a newborn, the hospital wrapped me in a stocking when I was going home. My parents laid me under the tree and took pictures of their new Christmas present. Or so the story goes :)


18. I really love Zumba, even though when I do it, I look like I'm having a seizure and imitating a wild ape at the same time.


19. I kissed a boy repeatedly for a 7th grade play, and my family hasn't stopped teasing me since. Hello, I was Juliet and he was Romeo. The kissing was unavoidable!


20. My favorite thing to do is relax in bed with my husband late at night. That's when we have our deepest discussions. It's also when we have our silliest moments.


21. Speaking of bedtime, I'm a grandma. 9pm is my bedtime. I blame teaching for making me such an early to bed and early to rise person!


22. When I woke up today, the roads were supposed to be covered in inches of new snow and ice. But guess what? Totally clear roads for my commute today. It's a birthday miracle.


23. I honestly love teaching. It's the hardest, most rewarding, and most meaningful thing I've ever done. The paycheck's not bad either (oh wait).


24. I'm going to go eat some ice cream now because it's my birthday. Graham Canyon. Mmmm. It's seasonal from the creamery, so I have to stock up when I can (still trying to figure out what season graham crackers are in?).

Happy birthday to me.

a bad case of the sniffles

It finally happened. That cold I get every fall when the weather gets colder. It came late this year, so late that I've I spent the last few weeks feeling smug for successfully warding it off. But no. It's here.

Sam got sick last weekend, and that should have been my first red flag. And then I started feeling exhausted and sniffly. Then I was feeling downright terrible, but I spent the day leading my 5th graders around on a field trip in the cold and wind, which surprisingly did nothing to help ;)

So today I'm holed up in bed, sneezing and coughing and feverish and the whole enchilada. Thank goodness for Netflix shows I keep falling asleep to, and for herbal tea, which I still don't like, but I feel is faintly therapeutic for those with terrible head colds?

Anyway, here are some links from across the Internet to interest any sick-day web browser:

40 must-see photos from the past

gave me goosebumps - the dissonance is beautiful

what your state is the worst at. I grew up in the state with most homelessness, but my husband grew up in the state with the biggest alcoholism problem, so I win?

dying over this nail polish collection for fall

we made this recipe this week, and yum. It doesn't store though, so eat it all when you make it!

and last but not least, an infographic about my church. Who we are, and what we stand for.

Happy Friday!

Get some relaxing in this weekend.

Heaven knows that's all I'll be doing.

in which I ignore everything and just write

Wednesday evenings are one of my favorites. Jason goes to scouts and my husband goes to his GMAT prep class. Which leaves me to sit at home and do whatever I want for a full hour and a half. Blog, watch a movie, wish Jessa were feeling better so I could go bug her, go for a run, anything. But usually it's just sit and enjoy some down time. I swear I didn't used to be an introvert, but now that I'm surrounded by 30 loud kids who need something all day every day, a quiet hour or two is like a heavenly round of the Hallelujah Chorus. Simile alert! I just finished teaching my kids about similes. They're dang good at them, too.  And place value. And earth processes. And narrative plot structures.


Also, speaking of introvert, I finally took the BMTI test, because apparently I need a computer and 72 yes/no questions to tell me who I am... Anyway, I have an 11% preference for introvert, which seems pretty slim to me, but whatever. I guess it explains how much I love these Wednesday free-time sessions? Also, my INFJ combination makes me Remus Lupin according to this website, so yeah. I'm a worn-out professor with a good heart who also is a werewolf. (Metaphor. Another thing my kids rock at.)


Funny anecdote: our class is pen pals with residents of an elderly community in the area (thanks again Amy for setting that up!), and their first letters were hilarious. First, they had a million questions for me. "Is Inez a boy or a girl?" "What about Beverly?" "Is it safe to tell them my name? What if they come and pretend to be my mom and check me out of class? But wait, could they do that? Can they even walk? Can they write back?"


And then, in their letters, "Should I call you sir?" "Are you a boy or a girl?" "How old are you?" "Can you still walk?"


Bless those elderly souls, and bless them in advance for trying to decipher our fifth grade handwriting.


So anyway, back to actually picking a topic to write about during this blissfully quiet hour off. Can we talk about fall? Because I love fall. Apparently it's a cliche blogger thing to love fall(?), but I love it nonetheless. I've loved it since 5th grade, when I had an exchange student from Japan, Conoco, and she was amazed by our Oregon autumn. "So pretty!" she would exclaim, picking up a golden leaf. Memories of fall afternoons with her solidified my preference for fall. That and the year I discovered how many treats one can make with a can of Libby's.

Photos taken last fall by KNW. What could be so bad about a season that looks like this?

Sometimes, in this blog of mine, it's good to sit down and just write about whatever I want. It may just become my favorite Wednesday evening tradition. That or watching 13 Going on 30, which I'm booting up as we speak :)

Let's get a few things straight about teacher style

Teacher style. Let's take it from the top:

1. Knee-length skirts are cute... for 30 seconds until you bend down to help a student at their desk or sit on the floor for class meeting.

2. Heels? Ha! With all the trips to the copy room, recess duty, and monitoring your class, your feet will beg for mercy by 8am. Or at least my feet do!

3. Cardigans, cardigans, and more cardigans. Once Jason saw my cardigans in my closet and said "how come all teachers wear those?"

4. Orange bus duty vests are sexy.

5. Teacher style can be cute style. Gone are the days of one-size-fits-all denim jumpers and crocheted pumpkin Halloween vests. There are so many cute, fun teachers at my school who have amazing style (Natalie, Mandie, and Ashley, I'm looking at you!). It's also funny and flattering when your students tell you what they like about your outfit. My students especially loved to compliment bright nail polish, colored pants, and fun necklaces last year.


Here are some of my favorite teacher style inspirations this fall. As always, I'm all about primary colors, browns, and muted pinks for my fall teacher style. Replace flats with boots and add cardigans or blazers for the cooler weather, and you're set.

all images via

What will your style look like this fall?

Tips on staying cute but professional at the same time?

And how many cardigans of one color is one allowed to own...

the waiting game

Over in the Emery household, we're playing the waiting game.

all pictures from my evening walk yesterday

We need to move, but we haven't heard back yet from our favorite place we applied to, and we're reluctant to put money down for other places until we know.

I'm waiting for the floors to be waxed at my school so I can get into my new classroom to set it up.

We need to be scouring consignment stores and buying furniture, but again, we don't know where we're living yet, so I don't want to buy anything that won't fit or match.

Sam has several new job offers, but he's waiting to have interviews and visit the job sites to start making a decision (I'm super excited about this though. You know the dream stories they tell you in college about how when you graduate, people will be recruiting you right and left? It's actually happening to my husband! Probably because he's such a stud :)

We need to be taking things off walls and packing closets up, but I hate to prematurely pack up things I use every day, and I don't want to live in a bare home for too long.

Jason is waiting for his mother to come visit him.

Saturday night, I found myself waiting. Sam and Jason had taken a mini-road trip that turned into a rather long trip, and I was at home alone. Waiting for my dinner to finish cooking. Waiting for them to come home. Waiting to switch the laundry. So I took a walk. I don't know for how much longer we'll be in the neighborhood, and I sure will miss it. The manicured lawns, the hidden lanes and walkways, the occasional vacant lot.

I guess the key to waiting is to STOP WORRYING. Life has a way of falling into place on its own time, and I have a way of messing things up if I do it my way ;) And thank you Katie for our conversation last night that helped me realize this.

Then again, with all the waiting, we've been to 7 Peaks two times in the last three days, watched movies we never seem to have time for during the school year, and I've read four books this week. I'm sleeping in, going to lunch with my aunt, going to pool parties with my young women and squeezing in a raspberry peach slush from Sonic every chance I can get. Okay, I only had a slush once, but helloooooo every happy hour for the rest of the summer! So I guess, if I was forced to admit it, the waiting game isn't that bad :)

Happy Monday! And thanks, readers, as always, for following along. This whole thing is worth it (and then some) because of you.

Tips to stay sane while playing the waiting game?

And how long until I can call and check on that housing application?

Is there a protocol for such things?

Hair: how weird it is, and how I felt brave cutting mine off

Hair is a weird thing. Really. It's just a mass of dead proteins growing out of your scalp. But yet, so much of our sense of beauty depends on that mass of protein. Remember how big of a deal it was when Karlie Kloss cut hers off? And how celebrities are all about big, curly, voluminous hair? And then there's the money we put into our hair. We spend money buying shampoos and gels, straightening irons and curling irons, dyes and highlights. We cut it, we put extensions in, we put hairspray and deep conditioner and decorations into it. And the time we spend on it!

On Thursday, I got my hair cut in a big way. I had worn it long for years, and I was ready for a change. So I decided to donate to Locks of Love. It was a no-brainer thing until I was in the salon, wet hair rubber banded at the top and bottom, braided, ready to be cut off and sent in the mail.  Then my hair stylist went to get the industrial scissors (you need those?), and I sat there, looking at my braid.


What is it like for girls who have no choice what their hair is like? For girls who just watch it fall out by the fistful and don't get it back until months after chemo, when it grows thin and fuzzy and short? I guess I never thought about being grateful for my hair.


And then I was like you know what, let's do this. You may think I'm silly, but it took courage to cut off my hair, a big part of my identity, for a new identity. And maybe even the chance that someone else could have a new identity. So yes, I felt brave. And excited.

And then the lady came back with the industrial scissors (you have really thick hair, she said). And that was that! Now I have a braid sitting on my bedroom shelf waiting to be mailed in, and a short haircut that I love. Nice and short and cute for the summer. And maybe somewhere a girl will have a wig to wear and put bows in and feel like she has a new identity just like me.


And that's my entire blog post about hair.

P.S. it now takes 2 minutes flat to do my hair. 

Air dry during breakfast, 

add a little hairspray, 

done.

Best part.