Toby

Many of you know that this past week, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to put my sweet pup, Toby, to sleep. In the hopes of reviving this blog a bit, I thought posting his sweet story would pay tribute to my little 4-legged friend!

Note: This took me 40 minutes to write. I am assuming it might take close to that to read.

I always knew I'd want a dog as soon as I bought my house. I wanted a dog as a companion, like most people. I wanted a dog I could play with, cuddle with, exercise with, and just hang out with. Living alone can be lonely, of course, but I knew I had a life that would perfectly suit a dog, and now I had my own house and yard to keep one in!

The summer of 2013, right after I got my house, I spent some time at animal shelters. I contemplated volunteering. I ended up just visiting, trying to find just the right little pup. I knew I didn't want a tiny yappy dog, or one with a bunch of crazy curly hair. Of course I wanted one that was sociable, good with kids, and good with other dogs. I wasn't very picky, but I knew I would know when I had found the right one. 

So it took a few visits. One time my mom and I visited the Humane Society and "checked out" a dog for about 30 minutes, only to find that he wasn't playful! He just wanted to lay on me, but was not at all interested in playing! It was so sad! I knew I would still continue the search for the perfect furbaby.

One Saturday, I was sitting on my couch, perusing the Humane Society webpage, and found a new dog listed. His name was Scott, and he looked perfect. He was 4 months old, had just been neutered, and had been there a couple of days. He would not last long. As soon as I saw him, I jumped off the couch, changed clothes, and went straight there. 

I was excited to find that no one had claimed Scott yet, and I sat looking at him through the cage, and talking to him, while I waited for a volunteer to come let me take him out to play. He was a playful guy, and he chose me pretty quickly. I debated whether I needed to take him out to play, because he had already stolen my heart. He was a bit more expensive than others, but at that point I didn't care. 

I took "Scott" outside to play. I was delighted. We had a blast. He ran and played, and played and ran, and cuddled, and warmed right up to me. He was 28 whole pounds, and playful and cuddly. 

I didn't waste anytime. I knew someone would adopt him that day. I took his little card up to the adoption center, and filled out my application. While there, I sat with a family who was also adopting a pup. I listened to them talk about how they'd associate him in their home and with their child. I eagerly waited to get my guy.

When it was my turn, they read me all of his paperwork- behavior results were fine, ears and nails fine... Scott was a happy, sweet, adoptable guy! I paid the money for him and some supplies (a leash, collar, food bowl, toys, etc.)

The second I got Scott out to the car, I excitedly told him I did not like his name. I debated for a bit, thinking I liked the name "Toby." At that moment, Toby Keith came on the radio. Sold. (Note: My dog was not named after Toby Keith! It was just appropriate!)

After snapping 6 or 14 pictures of him in the car, I took Toby over to my parents' house. They also fell in love. We tried to get him to potty, and drink water, and play. We were all so happy, and my family promised to help out with him on those days when my work hours didn't work with a puppy's life.

Things were great! Toby was the perfect missing piece to my new house, and I was happy. I went to school and told my students about him, and quickly learned more about my new little guy.

The following Monday, my mom came over to let Toby out. After he went out and did his business, she let him back in. They were standing in the kitchen together, and my mom was eating some yogurt. Apparently her spoon scraped the yogurt cup and made some sort of sound, and Toby began aggressively barking at her. My mom was a bit taken aback, but we all just assumed that Toby was getting used to many new sights, sounds, environments, and people.

I quickly enrolled Toby in the Humane Society's obedience classes, where he was taught a variety of things, such as making eye contact with me, walking correctly on the leash, sitting, laying down, and target training. We used clicker training, and he very quickly associated the clicker with a reward, and, eventually, the behavior that had gotten him the reward. Things were going well.

In October, I went to visit New Mexico for a week. Toby stayed at my parent's house. They had a big backyard, suitable for his energy. Toby LOVES to run. My mom had to send me pictures occasionally of what Toby was doing. That was the week he learned to beg for potato chips. Haha! 

When I got back from New Mexico, we immediately went to my parents' house for their annual Halloween party. I was so excited to introduce Toby to friends and family. 

That's when it all started. A family friend who was 15 at the time, had crouched down to play with him. Much to everyone's surprise, Toby snapped, hard, at him. We all thought he had bitten him. The kid was ok, and brushed it off. I was shocked, sad, and confused. I had no idea where that behavior could have come from! He had never done anything like that to me or to anyone else! Over the course of the evening we attempted to re-socialize Toby to the party, but each time he proved he was uncomfortable, so we would quickly remove him again. No one was as alarmed as my mom and I were, because they all thought he was just being a playful puppy.

But we knew something wasn't right. 

That night was just the beginning of a tumultuous journey. The next few months, I tried to socialize Toby more. I tried to have more friends over. I tried to have my friends meet us on the front porch with cold hot dogs, so that when they came in, they'd give him a treat. It was a funny joke- "If you go to Andie's, bring hot dogs."

I asked the trainer for advice. She didn't understand until she got a bit closer to him, and he snapped at her a couple of times. No one understood. And no one had any advice. Even the vet was confused. One vet said "Well, you are living alone, so he's probably just acting the way you've taught him to."

(We never returned to that particular vet.)

At one point when Toby was about a year and a half, things were tough, but not horrible. I wondered if Toby needed a new environment, if maybe my lifestyle wasn't best for him- if he needed a farm to run off all of his extra energy. He seemed to love other dogs, as indicated by a few play dates, and puppy daycare (which we had to stop going to when he stopped being okay with people.)

I quickly decided I wasn't able to give him up- he was my baby. I wasn't finished trying. I couldn't send him somewhere else. He belonged home with me. 

So I changed things up. I vowed to get him more exercise. I took him to my parent's frequently to run in the backyard. I made sure to get home in time to take him on long walks. 

Around this time, I had a roommate move in. It took Toby about a month to get used to him, but when he did, it was a relief. Derek was able to take Toby for runs and long walks. It was such an incredible relief to me. At least Toby's "circle" of people he trusted had expanded.

When Derek moved out, I wasn't sure if I needed another roommate or not. But I knew it was going to be tough to associate Toby with anyone else. We got lucky with Derek. 

I spent the spring and summer of 2015 making sure my dog was never around anyone. On the off chance that I was brave enough to try, he'd quickly make it clear that he was not ok with anyone. He'd snap at them just for holding their hand out. 

I still worried that I was somehow contributing to Toby's behavior. What did I do? Did I somehow teach him this? Did I make him afraid? Was there a way that I acted? I was definitely always afraid anytime he was around ANYONE, and I wondered if my fear fueled his.

In August, I had to take Toby in for a routine nail trim. At this time, I had chosen a new vet, one that I now swear by and will always go to. I called this vet beforehand, explaining that Toby needed quite a bit of extra care- that getting him sedated enough for a nail trim would be a bit of a challenge. 

The sweet people at the vet's office tried to understand. But they could have never predicted that visit. I can't explain it as anything less than horrible. It took the vet and 3 vet techs, a muzzle, and pushing Toby into the corner just to inject him with the sedative. 30 minutes later, the sedative wasn't enough. They had to do it again. They described the dosage that it took to knock Toby out enough JUST TO TRIM HIS NAILS as an "elephant dosage."

I asked the vet what she recommended for Toby. She suggested I try giving him Prozac, and wrote me a prescription right then. At this point, there wasn't anything I wouldn't try. But I wasn't too optimistic, honestly.

At the end of August, I had another roommate move in. For the first week or two, Toby didn't seem interested in her. He ignored her. I was so happy! I coached Sara into ignoring him all the time- even when he seemed curious by her and tried to lick her hand...

But then, it started with her. He snapped at her. Twice. And it scared her. And it scared me. Literally nothing worked. She gave him treats, she ignored him... we tried everything. Every time she needed to come home, I had to plan ahead to make sure I was home, because she couldn't come in when Toby was out. 

And then, my beautiful niece was born. I visited her in the hospital and thought about how much fun we'd have together. We'd play and build snowmen together, and --- wait... she could never come to my house. She could not meet Toby. Not ever. She was another person I would have to protect from my dog.

Last weekend, my mom and I had a tough conversation. By the end, I looked up at my mom, and said "I have to let him go."

I looked into dog sanctuaries and shelters. They were perfect! And then, I'd read on... "This Sanctuary does not accept aggressive animals."

The decision that I had to make loomed over me like a dark cloud all week. I called the vet to schedule an appointment to discuss this with the doctor. I wasn't able to get in until Thursday at 4:30. 

Sunday through Thursday, I was nothing short of a disaster. When I did not have children in my classroom, I was sobbing. I tried not to tell many people, as I was afraid people would judge me for deciding to put my dog down. "Why can't you just rehome him?" or "Just try a behavioral consultant."

But no one truly understands what I (my mom and I) went through with this dog. We'd spend SO MUCH of our time with our stomachs in knots, worried that he'd hurt someone. He'd get out the back door and bite a neighborhood walker... or worse, a child. This was a CONSTANT worry. Sometimes I got into the habit of just not leaving the house, because that way I knew I could control the possibility of anything happening. 

This week was horrible. I wasn't sure. I was heartbroken. And all the while, I'd have to come home from work to that sweet little face at the back door, shaking his little butt and wagging his tail, so happy to see me. He cuddled up to me because I sobbed and sobbed and he wanted to comfort me. 

Leading up to the vet appointment, I had a feeling I was going to feel some way about my decision. The vet was very supportive. While she did not encourage my decision, she told me that she supported it, and that she would do it. She said a whole lot more things that reassured me (thought she couldn't legally come out and tell me) as I cried, but felt completely sure that I was doing the right thing. She sent me home with 5 sedatives for Toby. The normal dosage for a dog of his size is 2. The goal was to sedate him enough to get him in the door of the vet office on Friday and to have him sedate enough to perform the euthanasia. 

Toby is as stubborn as he is precious. I cried as I gave him those sedatives, and held him as they slowly kicked in. He looked at me with glossy eyes as he struggled to stand up. He finally laid down with his head in my lap. I sobbed. I was sure he was gone.

And then, my dad showed up. I had asked him to come over to help me get Toby into the car, because I assumed he'd already be passed out. 

My dad walked in, and Toby got up and started walking around. He greeted my dad, a bit drunkenly, but mostly normally. I knew this was going to be quite a process.

Toby was able to jump up into my truck, and stood up during the whole ride to the vet. He happily let me put his leash on him and walked with me across Mass Ave to the vet's office. (Remember, he'd had enough sedative for a 200 pound dog. He's 70 pounds.)

We walked in and checked in. I quickly told the receptionist that he'd probably need a muzzle, as he was not nearly as sedate as he was supposed to be.

And then, I turned around and saw a cat in the vet's office. I saw it just as Toby opened his mouth and took and bite at the cat. Somehow, someway, the cat got away just in time. But Toby was going for her. He tried to eat a cat.

The rest of the appointment went somewhat smoothly. I can't explain the relief I was given by the staff at the vet. They were prepared, and sedated him more, so that even they could pet him and massage his leg as they inserted the catheter to put him down. 

Toby went peacefully, and I cried. 

I cried because I love him. I cried because I failed him. I cried because I didn't understand. I cried because no one else could know what a great dog he could be when he was with "his people" (my mom, dad, brother, old roommate, and I). 

And then, as I took off his muzzle, collar and leash, I said goodbye to him, and I walked back to the car.

And that time, if I'm being honest, I cried. I cried with relief.

I hope that no one ever has to go through what I had to go through with my dog. This past week was a defining week in my life, and I will never forget it. I miss Toby, but I'm comfortable with my decision. Right now, I'm not worried about Toby. I'm not worried that Sara will come home when he's out. I'm not worried that he'll somehow get out and hurt someone. I'm not worried to have friends over. I'm not worried to introduce him to someone new (i.e. a boyfriend.)

One day, I hope to try again with a new pet. There are things I'd do differently, but ultimately, I know that there was nothing I did wrong for Toby. It wasn't my fault. It may not have been anyone's fault. I don't know his full story. But I know I did my best for him. I did everything I could to keep Toby around in my life. I will miss my sweet guy, Toby Joe!

When People Survived Without Google

For this week's post, I challenged myself to think of things that I literally cannot live without that my grandparents did not have any access whatsoever to when they were my age. At first, of course, technology came to mind. I'm sure that's what would come to anyone's mind when thinking of days past. But there are a lot of very common things that have existed or I've had access to my entire life, that my grandparents simply did without. Did they know they didn't have it? Of course not! Just like when my own grandkids talk about how they didn't know how I existed with the lack of convenience they think I had.

Before starting this blog post, I had a really fun conversation with my grandparents- one that included a lot of incredulous remarks from me such as "How did you get anything done?" or "How did you survive?" Haha! I am narrowing this list down to the 10 things that are most essential in my every day life, and my goal is to just have fun with this!

1. Appliances- In my college days, I used the microwave for every meal because, let's face it... who didn't? About the only thing I consumed daily in college that I did not microwave was beer (or "jungle juice" that we got at frat parties). My grandpa told me that they purchased their first microwave in the 1970's, and it was HUGE. So I asked "How did you heat stuff up?" (what an idiot.) Turns out, boiling some water or putting something on the stove does about the same thing! (I knew that, it just seems so much less convenient! What about Hot Pockets? Haha!)

2. Hair Styling Products- This one never dawned on me. On the days when I do decide to straighten or curl my hair, I plug the straightener or curling iron in, and about a minute later, I start styling. Back in the day, you had to strike the curling iron on the stove to get it hot enough to curl your hair (and how long would that take?)

3. Power Steering/Automatic Transmission- And this one is the main reason for this post, as I am currently without wheels, because my car is in the shop, due to a pretty severe power steering fluid leak, a leak that means that I can get a pretty good arm workout by making a right turn. While power steering was becoming more common around the time that my grandparents were in their 30s, it wasn't common. They said they purchased their first car in the late 50s that had power steering fluid, and it was an "up and coming" thing. Manual transmissions were about all that existed then as well.

4. COFFEE- This is another one that really surprised me (I mean, I took for granted.) They didn't have coffee pots? Nope. You put the pot on the stove and poured the water into the coffee. This is another one I already knew, but hadn't really let sink in in a good while.

5. (This one is my favorite) Cell phones, texting- There was a time in the past when, if you were running late to meet someone, you might not be able to tell them, because they may have already left their house, and you had also already left yours, and you'd just have to hope that they waited wherever you were meeting long enough to be graced by your presence! I know a lot of friends I might not have anymore if that were the case!

6. Car Seats- Oh my word. I think about the 5 minutes I spend every Monday strapping Julia's 5-point harness carseat into the backseat of my car. I put my knee in and pull on the seatbelt to make sure it doesn't budge AT ALL. And when I buckle her in, I check more than once to make sure that everything has snapped, and that the chest clips are directly aligned with her armpits (because that's what the internet tells us to do... more on that later.) Mamaw told me that when Steve was a baby, he was in a carseat, but a strap just went around the back of the seat. That was it. And when the kids were toddlers, they'd just put them in the middle and hold on to them! No seat belts! And now, we see a child without a booster, and PANIC! It's crazy!

7. Televisions- Papaw reminisced on his first television, purchased in the 1940s. It was 9 inches, and about 10 of them sat around to watch it. Next time I host a Colts party, I would encourage my dear friends to think of this before complaining about my little 32 inch flatscreen. :)

8. Mail- Forget email. Every single piece of communication that was not done in person or by phone had to be done by what we now call "snail mail." And I can guarantee with the nature of the other items in this post, it wasn't a process as easy as walking into the post office, having them scan the address you were shipping to, telling you a total and estimated date of delivery, and you swiping your credit card and being on your merry way. No, I don't guess it was like that at all.

9. Air Conditioning- Papaw described this one to me as a health benefit. Nowadays, air conditioning isn't negotiable- not in cars, not in homes, not in places of business. But back then? Movie theaters would attract potential patrons by advertising that it was 10 degrees cooler inside the theater than it was outside. So, on a 100 degree day, I could pop in for a film in a crisp, cool 90 degree theater! How refreshing!

10. Power Tools- Another one I hadn't thought of. I basically carried my power drill in my purse during those first few weeks of home ownership. My house was built in 1939, so the walls are plaster, so the ole "hammer and nail" procedure isn't really appropriate. I can't imagine having to actually turn the crank to drill a hole in the wall. When I asked Papaw about this, he simply said "We just didn't put much on the walls!"

So, that is the end of my list. This post was necessary for me today, as sometimes I feel like I am truly inconvenienced by this or that, when in all reality, these are things that are, for all intents and purposes, "new." People survived without microwaves, and Keurigs, and iphones, drills, Gmail, and air conditioners. And, finally, people survived without Google. How the hell did people survive without Google?

My Super Exciting Life

So, the title of this blog post is misleading. I actually do not have a super exciting life. But, if the past week counts, then I do. I thought all week about the direction I want to take this blog entry, and I still have no idea, so here goes. I've promised to do this once a week, so I must.

On Sunday (July 5) I went to Las Vegas with my teaching partner, the 2 first grade teachers, one of the first grade teacher's husbands, one of the second grade teachers, and my teaching partner's sister and friend. Those of us who are teachers attended the teaching conferences held at the Venetian in Vegas, which is where we also got to stay. Rumor has it, it's one of the nicer hotels in Vegas (especially for the girl who considers a $90 a night hotel to be "expensive" ((sidenote: when did i get like that? Ugh!)) This place is a little different than your typical "Holiday Inn" in that... it's not. It's like a small town, where inside there is a "canal", where people are actually taken on gondolas, led by men (gondoliers?) who sing at unnaturally high pitches while standing on the edge of a boat shaped like a banana. Much of this we witnessed while sitting at a Mexican restaurant, where I had the world's most interesting, delightful margarita, a Jalapeno- Pineapple Margarita. It sounds crazy, but it was delightful and it felt healthy (as healthy as margaritas can be.) I came home and Pinterested the recipe and, of course, it wasn't nearly as good, but I tried.

All of this took place the first night we were there. On Monday, our conferences began with a key note speaker, Todd Parr, children's book author. He writes some really interestingly-illustrated books for kids on sensitive topics like saying goodbye, families, and... underwear. He was fun to listen to. Sometimes I get wrapped up in the "job" of teaching Kindergarten, and it's nice to have a little reminder that to kids, underwear really is entertaining (and sometimes it is to adults as well.)

We decided to splurge and attend the Beatles: LOVE Cirque du Soleil Monday night at the Mirage. My aforementioned "frugal" spending attitude almost prevented me from attending this amazing show, but I'm glad I went for it. At $104, it was worth every single penny. (I definitely came home afterwards and googled Cirque du Soleil performers because I had to know exactly how people get into that business, how much they make, and if I could do it (just kidding on that last one, but it was so freakin' cool!) The entire show was choreographed to Beatles songs, and there was some acting, many set changes, and many stunts that made all of us about lose our breath or pee our pants. But none of those things happened, so that is fortunate. We were amazed! It's definitely an experience I'll never forget!

The rest of the week was a little more low-key, with conference sessions each day from 830-4ish, necessary pool time, dinners out as a group every night, and a few walks down the strip. If you ask me, it was the perfect mixture of a "business" and "pleasure" trip.

My head is still spinning with all of the new ideas I got from the conference, and I'm still trying to figure out which ones I'll be able to successfully implement, and how. I can't believe so many schools are going back in 2 weeks- we don't go back until August 17! I'm thankful to have that time to continue planning my "game plan" for a new school year and a new group of kiddos.

As my life goes, as soon as I got home from Vegas, life got back to usual. Well, as usual as life can get when you are still on "The Vegas" time zone. Friday night I went to bed at 10 Indy time and woke up ready for the day at 1 a.m... Saturday night I finally fell asleep at 3 a.m. Anyway, Saturday I drove 200 miles between checking on the dogs I'm dogsitting (there are 5), going to a family reunion, and then to a friend's birthday party. Sunday seemed a bit low-key with a sweet little baby shower to attend. Today things got back to normal watching the kids, with the added twist of also watching 5 dogs. (I'm trying to make it sound like all of this isn't a lot- it's reverse psychology.) :)

I feel like this post has been pretty boring, but I promise I'll redeem myself, eventually, when I have less than 4 people/animals to take care of, and more than 5 hours of consecutive sleep. :)

Today a really big, big super amazing thing happened. I went to Target. I was looking for a bathing suit. Just typing that sentence fills my brain with doom. I wanted something new for an upcoming trip, but knew that, as in most cases, my choices would be limited, as my booty tends to take up a little more space than the average gal... and Target just doesn't dress those gals apparently.

But then, this miracle happened. I found a suit ON CLEARANCE- 2 tops and 1 bottom that matched. 1 of the tops was too big (say what?), and the only one left was the RIGHT SIZE. So I figured I might as well spend a few hundred on some lottery tickets right then and there. (but I didn't... I bought a bottle of water and some contact solution to celebrate.   oh, and I bought the suit, too.)

In the midst of this joy, I decided to try my luck at the mall to return some stuff from a particularly adventurous and regretful trip to Old Navy. While the line nearly wrapped around the store, it went fast. As I was walking out, I was behind a couple who was (V-E-R-Y S-L-O-W-L-Y) walking through the mall. If I had to guess, they were in their 70s or 80s. But they were holding hands. And my heart just melted a little bit. I had a hard time with that instinct to take a picture of them... I figured I'd respect their moment, even though they probably would have no idea.

Today's blog is just a little light, and probably not a "page-turner", but I'm still trying to get myself back into this thing. I have thoughts throughout the day of things I want to blog about, but I also have the memory of a butterfly. The only reason I'm actually sitting down and remembering to blog now is because I just got a pedicure and really can't go finish up my few thousand steps to win my fit-bit challenge, or else my polish will chip. These are real problems, guys.

Day 1: Introduction, Recent Bio, Five ways to win your heart

I reopened this blog as I sat reflecting on how much I LOVE writing. It is about the only thing I can do for pleasure without falling asleep (I usually fall asleep with a book in my hand.) I was asked recently to start blogging again, and I thought "What in the hell would I blog about? Recipes? No, sometimes I STILL eat cereal for dinner. Crafts? No, I get all my ideas from Pinterest. No, no, no." So I decided to do what I usually do, which is google the phrase "blog ideas" and... here we are. I google my thoughts, and it gets me here.

I don't really expect anything from doing this... I don't expect to hit 100 followers, or have people copy the link to my blog in their instagram photos, but we'll see where this leads...

Introduction/Bio:
As I stated before, I'm a 32 year old woman. I am a Kindergarten teacher and have taught at the elementary level for 8 years. I am single, part by choice, part by pickiness. I refuse to settle, as I feel like I spent a great deal of my 20s doing so. :)

I own a home that I purchased right before I turned 30. I have a crazy ass dog that I adopted from the Humane Society in August 2013. When I say he's crazy, I'm being really generous. But I love him so!

I am very blessed with some INCREDIBLE people in my life. I have some really strong friendships, and I feel blessed to say I have many groups of friends all over the place. I feel blessed to have been able to keep in contact with friends through changing situations, locations, life, etc. I have friends who are married with several children, I have friends who are single like me, I have friends who are many years younger, friends who are older, and friends who are completely unlike me. I love them all.

Additionally, I have an awesome family. My immediate family- my mother, father, and brother- are priceless to me. They are truly some of my best friends. I'm also blessed with a close extended family.

I would say one of my favorite things in life is being with children. I love to teach them, and I love to spend time with them. This summer, I've been honored to get to spend a lot of time with many children who were in my class this past year.

I have 2 nephews that I adore. They currently live in New Mexico. I see them as often as I can, and enjoy keeping up with them. I have a little baby niece on the way as well. I can't wait to spoil her just the way I love spoiling the boys!

I feel there's a lot more I could add, but that might be boring. :)

Part 2:
5 Ways to Win My Heart:
1. Coffee
2. A Conversation that makes me forget to check my phone
3. Naps
4. Greek Salad
5. A trip to Italy

I promise next time will be more entertaining... maybe.

28 and 49 weeks, single, and childless... and jobless

The title says it all- I am, right now, and 7:27 p.m. mountain time, 28 years and a little over 49 weeks of age, single (as in the non-married sense), definitely childless, and jobless. My home in Santa Fe is pure boxes, crates, and scattered things I don't know what to do with. it doesn't look like anyone lives here.
My emotions are so at bay right now it's a little frightening. As in, I'm not using them. So, instead of ranting on and on about how confused, sad, whatever I am, I'm really just content, so... on to bigger things:

Sometimes I feel like I spend too much time on Facebook and Twitter, and I know that I do, but I continue to be fascinated by the talents of others, and the effort they put into sharing different things with others. I have many friends involved in great causes, such as my friend Mel who lost her 10 week old baby a few years ago, and has poured herself into SIDS Awareness Groups, and the Salvation Army. My friend Amy and her twin sister Amber were good friends of mine in high school. Amber recently gave birth to a stillborn baby. The sisters have united to blog and design support groups honoring Violet's memory and seeking out others who are experiencing such a devastating loss.

I have a friend who just wrote and published a book, and so many friends who have recently decided to start running. Seriously, it's like a Forrest Gump revolution. I woke up one morning and all of my friends were training for the mini. They just keep running.

I also have friends who are balancing marriages, children, and jobs, while going to grad school or fulfilling some kind of higher education.

And me? Oh, I'm just starting all over. But for some reason, I'm kind of okay with it. Yes, I have a college degree, and yes I'm licensed to teach in 2 states. I have 6 years of teaching experience in fourth grade, second grade, and Kindergarten. I am working on writing a book.

sometimes I start to get nervous about the fact that I am unmarried, and not really even thinking it's an upcoming thing, have no children, and still haven't bought a house. I still sleep til 10 sometimes, and have cereal or even pancakes for dinner. I am a Starbucks junkie, and spent probably what I could spend on a down payment on a house for Starbucks. But for some reason, I am just kind of flowing right now. I met with a good friend, Leslie, who told me that "God has a plan for us. We might not get it, or understand it, but HE does." And it's the right plan. For a little over 2 years, I've been spending time trying to learn to "let go" of my control issues with life, and embrace the fact that things most certainly will not happen the way I want them to, or instruct them to. Usually they'll do something bizarrely different. But God knows what He's doing.

I really hope God has a plan for me that involves marriage, or at least children. I never have imagined being an adult without at least 2 children running around. So, God, if you're reading this, please help me out in this in the next 5 years... but NOT NOW! :)

On a completely separate note... Those of us in relationships, or dating, do you ever really sit back and reflect on why you like this person? The other night, I went out with my friend who I taught with this year. Mid dinner, she asked me, "so what is it you like about Terry?" I stopped chewing. What in the world? I don't know! (I thought.) So I sat for a minute and responded thoughtfully, "He's very good looking. He has dark features, and I have light ones. He is completely different from my type, and from anyone I've ever dated, and he is completely honest always." it felt good, because I really had no idea what to say when she first asked me. we just become so complacent sometimes in relationships that we don't even step back to see the big picture. What shocked me even more was that I told him about the convo, not asking him to reply back, but curious to see if he would. And he shocked the crap out of me with his response: "You have the most beautiful blue eyes, and you don't take shit from anyone." The first part didn't surprise me at all, because he is always saying something about my eyes, but the second part left me speechless. It also made me realize how much I'd grown the past year. I used to be such a pushover, and spineless. so I don't take crap from people, but I haven't really had to that much... Or, I just have been too busy making things happen to notice.

what would your significant other say about you? And how would you answer this question?

Another Transition... And a vow to Keep Up...

"I have taken the road less traveled, and that has made all the difference."

A good old friend's girlfriend, around my age, just published her first book. As I bought it on Kindle, and am really amazed by it, I couldn't help but think about my constant "I'm going to write a book" sayings. Mine is going to be quite a dramatic memoir, and I start to write and then realize I've forgotten things and give up. I'm not good at "works in progress."
So I thought, inspired by this new author, that I would start here. I have had this blog for years and put in entries 5 times. Of alllll the stuff that has happened in my life, I've blogged 5 times. How many 45 minute conversations could this blog have saved Megan, or Kathleen, or my mom? lol :) jk.

Last summer, I moved from Indianapolis to Santa fe, New Mexico. A beautiful, diverse, wonderful place that I love. Around December I was toying with the idea of moving back, mostly because of a guy back home. I put the decision on the backburner, knowing I did not want to make a monumental decision to move from a place where I love teaching, for a guy who may or may not work out. So I made myself think. and think I did. I thought hard. And I did my job. And I explored. and I didn't visit home. I promised myself I would make my decision based on nothing but myself and Santa Fe. For Spring Break, my mom and dad came out and we visited the Grand Canyon and Sedona, Arizona. After they left, Terry (the guy) came and visited me, and we went to Bandelier, White Sands, and other cool places around here. I was glad to have visitors, but equally as glad to have people coming to me, so I didn't have to think so hard about my decision. I knew whatever I decided, would have to be done on my own. My parents took over a week off work and spent tons of time helping me move last summer, and I knew if I decided to move back, I would be on my own.

Towards the end of March, I wasn't sure what was going on with Terry. What I was becoming sure of was that I was a family girl, and that I belonged near my family. I was also sure I really enjoyed teaching out here, and that I was truly blessed with every single student and parent that made up my classroom community. So I began taking steps toward deciding. After a week or two of angst, arisen from the thought of telling my boss, I decided to simply go talk to her about it. After a heartfelt reflection on my part, she told me about her experience- she grew up in Albuquerque, then in her 20s decided to move to teach on an Indian reservation in Wyoming. Like me, there were days she woke up and thought "What the hell did I just do?" and there were days when she realized how lucky she was to have the opportunity to do something she wondered "how the hell she did." Like me, when the school year was nearing a close, she felt strongly that she wanted to go home. Like me, she practically gave herself stomach ulcers trying to decide how to tell her boss. Like me, she timidly approached her boss with her decision. Like her, her boss smiled and said nicely, "(her name), we will miss you. and we don't want you to, but... you can go. it's ok." And just like her, I felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. I knew I wasn't making a decision based on a guy. Earlier, I had consulted a woman whom I consider to be one of my best friends, Megan, who told me, "Do what your heart says." "Megan, I don't know what the hell my heart is saying!" I whined.
During my conversation that day with my boss, she said , "Andie, I think you've been brave, you've done a wonderful thing. You're a wonderful teacher. But your heart? It's not here. I'm not sure why, and it's not my business. But your heart isn't here. So go home. But I think you'll be back, in some capacity." Then she asked me, repeatedly over those couple of months, "Do you regret this? Will you regret moving back? Do you feel you've done what you've set out to do?" And each time, I answered no to the first two questions, and yes to the third. I will never regret this year and all of the challenges, enjoyment, wonder, scariness, loneliness, and happiness it has brought me. neither will I regret moving back, knowing that I am going home to, as I often say "my people," whether or not Terry continues to be a part of that groups, and "my home" of Indianapolis, which a year ago I could not stand. I don't think the hosting of the superbowl helped my homesickness much. :)

So on April 4, I typed up my letter of resignation to Santa Fe Public Schools. I printed it out, signed it, and put it in an envelope addressed to my boss, as I was directed to do. I walked into her office and held up the envelope. She made a sad face. I said "We're just not gonna talk about this, I'm just going to set this on your chair, and then we're not going to talk about it."

And we didn't. She supported me in giving me an excellent final evaluation, and strolling by my room occasionally and complimenting a job well done. she also wasn't afraid to give suggestions to me on new approaches or suggestions. I was an active member of the staff until the day I left. and technically, I still am, since, even though I've turned in my keys, I'm not done. On Friday after I turned in my keys, she made the same sad face. Just like before, I said "Nope, this is not goodbye. I am having trouble detaching, so I am just going to come volunteer." So I will be doing that the next 2 weeks until my dad comes to get me to drive me home. Just like turning in that letter, I need time to say goodbye to her, to the school, to the staff members, and Santa Fe.

In ten years, when my children are sitting on my lap, I will tell them about the year I set out to do something no one thought I could do. I followed my cousin, Lindsey, and her darling boys, who are the loves of my life, to New Mexico. and I gave it a fair chance. It wasn't easy, but it was exhilarating. The challenges I surpassed were monumental. i feel as if I matured, not aged, several years. And here I am, almost packed, set to move back to Indianapolis, to my childhood home, in my 10x10 bedroom where I grew up, and I couldn't feel more excited, happy, and thankful.