Our Time

So true! My husband and I have been together nearly two decades, but we still hold hands, snuggle, kiss hello, and text each other all day long like teenagers. We had to walk through fire and go to battle for our love, and because of that, we value our relationship and each other even more.

We also have the opposite extreme to compare it to, having spent far too long with people who had (and still have) no clue whatsoever what real love is. They will never know what it feels like to have what we have, and that actually makes me a little sad for them.

I am grateful that we found each other. Anything we went through over the past 19+ years was worth it, to have a true partner and best friend in my corner and in my life, in my arms, in my heart. I wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Yes, it’s our time. Time to fully enjoy each day, plan trips, revel in quiet moments, build even more memories together. No matter how long we have been together, you see, we still have time to make up for.

Her First Day

With four kids, my husband and I have experienced many, many first days of school over the years. This year, with all of them well over 18, we have a very different kind of back-to-school: our older daughter will be teaching her very first classroom of students today as a first-year teacher.

From the moment she could speak, she has said she will be a teacher someday. At various times, she also declared that she would be a pop singer, President of the United States, and a few other vocations that momentarily struck her fancy, but being a teacher never wavered from her list.

Over the weekend, I tried to find pictures of us playing school, but since my husband and I were always both recruited as students, neither of us ever took pictures of it all. I can still picture the tightening of her lips and the stern, slight raising of her eyebrows when one of her siblings tested her patience as she ruled over her pretend classroom, and I imagine it won’t be very long before an unsuspecting high schooler witnesses those exact same facial expressions. I can only caution them to heed the warning and change courses of action before it’s too late.

I am sure she will call her dad this evening to tell him all about her first day as an official, bona fide teacher. He is so proud that he is ready to burst, and I know if there was a way for him to sneak into that classroom and witness her first day as a teacher, he would already be there.

How many of us can say that we held onto a dream of ours from childhood and made it happen? How many dreams did we let go of as we grew older? I am proud of her for sticking to it. She never doubted herself, or at least if she did, she never let it slow her down.

I keep watching the clock, wondering what she is doing now, what her students are saying and doing, how her day is going. And I can’t help but picture a little girl in overalls, a yellow sweater, and crooked bangs sitting on the floor with her teacher Barbie and mini chalkboard. I suppose a part of me will always see her as that little girl, but I am immensely proud of the young woman — and teacher– that she has grown into today.

Starting Now

I can be my own worst enemy at times. After a knee injury and then two very unpleasant rounds of antibiotics sidelined me for about three weeks, I am just now working my way back to any semblance of my routine, and it’s a struggle.

You would think I could muster up some grace for myself, considering the injury and illness were not my fault, and certainly not much fun. Instead, I have allowed my frustration and disappointment to get the best of me. This has pushed my goal deadlines back by several weeks, and my excitement has turned to aggravation, worry that I won’t reach my goals at all, and then heaps and heaps of self-blame and anger.

Yeah, it’s as delightful as it sounds. I tell myself how irrational it is to be mad at myself for something I couldn’t possibly control, but my inner critic is relentless and harsh as hell. The problem is, it’s making it very difficult to get back onto my feet. How do I move forward, when I keep shoving myself back down into the dirt?

Last night, I decided to talk to my husband about it. He is the most honest and straightforward person I know. He doesn’t believe in sugarcoating the truth, and it’s one of the many, many things I love about him. I know that any words of wisdom from him come straight from his heart.

I was glad that I opened up to him. We talked for a good while, and he gave me a healthy dose of tough love mixed with encouragement and compassion, exactly what I needed. He said he didn’t know why I am so tough on myself, but that he wished he could change that, and that he wished he could replace that negative voice in my head with his, telling me how beautiful and strong I am, instead of tearing myself down.

So, starting right now, I am committing to this promise to him, and to myself: that I will stand back up, brush myself off, acknowledge that the setback has slowed me down and delayed the finish line for some of my goals, but that I am absolutely going to move forward again, take good care of myself, and get back to work.

Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now.

For me. For him. For us.

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