My Hair

One of my favorite scenes in Little Women follows the devastating telegram informing the March family that their father is ill. Marmie is desperately needing the funds for the trip to visit her husband in the hospital in Washington and has resorted to borrowing money from the crotchety Aunt March. However, Jo schemes a different plan... she sells her long, beautify hair. That evening in bed Jo gives a stifled sob, and Meg asks, "Jo, dear, what is it? Are you crying about father?" Jo replies, "No, not now." "What then?" "My --my hair!" burst our poor Jo, trying vainly to smother her emotion in the pillow. It makes me teary and chuckle simultaneously! And yesterday, I lived it.

So, my brush broke last week. Apparently it was time for a hair cut. I've been growing it out for seven years to donate, but I hadn't anticipated chopping it off so soon until my sister expressed her desire to cut hers. We scheduled an appointment (with our cousin Meredith... practically a pro!), and we both left the salon with ziplocks of our hair to donate for wigs for girls with cancer.

A kink in the hair donation plan occurred to me as I was heading home... where was my bag of hair? Somewhere between the salon and my aunt's house lies a ziplock of 8 inches of curly red hair. Needless to say, my drive home ended up being a sob story of a girl who cut off all of her hair. For, the decision to chop my hair off was solely for the purpose of donating and definitely not because I wanted short hair. Making a sacrifice for a woman battling cancer is one thing... but sacrificing for no reason- there is no pleasure in that.

There is still some hope that the baggy of my hair will be found, but until then, I'm...(sigh)... adjusting.

Before

After

Summer Highlights

I love summertime!!! Relaxing. Cooking. Family. Organizing. Pandemic. Crocheting. Gardening. Armadillo. Sleeping. Memory Foam. Piano. Friends. Carcassonne. Disney. Princesses. P90X. Aunthood. Fishing. Painting. Swimming. Netflix. Pacific. Ecuador. Whales. Tweega Jo.

The family with our favorite Disney Princess.

The kids and mom at Magic Kingdom. It's magical!!!

Painting with a Twist with my school buddies.

Being an aunt. LOVE IT!!!

Meet Tweega Jo- the new addition to my family. She and I have such a wonderful life together!

Armadillo in my garden- yes, there were lots of squeals, banging sticks, and running for our lives.

My friend Kayla and the purple carrot from my garden!

My fresh produce. It's amazing to see things grow! And it's amazing to eat them!

My youngest sibs with dough... calzones! Yum!

"Porque no?" Why not lie in a hammock on the porch of a mansion with a perfectly manicured yard that overlooks the Pacific Ocean?

Redneck Golf... surrounded by coconut trees while listening to the waves crashing onto the beach. 

Do you see all of those dinosaurs? Nastified.

Whale watching (aka "whale chasing") buddies

Humpback Whales

And some more.

Blue-Footed Boobies. Yes. You read that right.

Riding the waves.

Passion Fruit. Who knew they were so sour?!

A success story

This spring semester has been packed full of speech referrals, assessments, ARD meetings, and paperwork (mounds of paperwork... mountains of paperwork... my desk pretty much looks like the Alps). However, God has given me a few little successes that have filled my body and spirit with enough energy to wake up, prepare for each day, and sign-in to work each morning.

One little success story was with a young student, (of course I can't divulge specific details on the world-wide web, but here's a vague description) who qualified for speech therapy due to a severe/profound articulation/phonological disorder (>1 percentile). After only 5 months of intensive speech therapy, he was dismissed with about 95% PCC (percentage of consonants correct). This bright student came with a severely limited phonetic repertoire (he produce very few speech sounds) and was dismissed with the ability to produce every English phoneme with over 95% accuracy (including the sounds that the developmental norms deem as too complex for his age).  Yea! This was confirmation that speech therapy DOES work and that my hard work isn't in vain.

Gardening... It's Life Giving

Last Spring, with all of the stresses and demands of a first-year job, I decided to do an experimental garden. This new experience has brought such joy to my life, as I eagerly come home from work to check on the growth of my vegetables or spend hours on the weekends in the fresh air working the rich soil.

Although last summer's garden croaked with our scorching sun, I tried a fall garden and have had incredible success! The bountiful crop of spinach, red leaf, and green leaf lettuce has been sufficient for daily salads for myself and my neighbors. The carrots are deliciously sweet and flavorful and are now a favored snack.

Under the guidance of the Farmer's Almanac, new seeds have been planted and will be planted! Witnessing seeds growing to fruition is beautiful and fills my heart with joy!

(Above: my garden this fall; Below: garden this winter)

(Above and below: my garden this spring... so far.)

Health Insurance

There are aspects of adult-hood that I am still learning about. One is health insurance. It's a new thing for me. I haven't quite got the hang of it. Obviously I haven't because my insurance year starts over September 1 and just this week I called to set up my first eye and dental appointments. Fortunately, they had available appointment times for me before I wasted an entire year of insurance.

Yesterday I visited the ophthalmologist... yeah, yeah, so I didn't know the difference of an ophthalmologist and an optometrist. Apparently I went to the wrong place, although they were fine with me being there- I just had to pay far more than my $10 co-pay with my vision insurance. Alas. I listened to a lecture about sleeping in my contacts and the consequences I would suffer if I decided to continue this abuse. So tonight I'm blogging with my contacts in the cleaning case and my glasses on my face- pat on the back.

Today was the dentist appointment. I decided that a thick, sound-proof door is strategically placed to separate the waiting area and the daunting rooms hidden beyond it. Upon opening that magical door, the unnerving sounds of drilling, metal pointy things scraping, and mysterious-but-oh-so-unpleasant noises are easily audible. I imagine if the dentist office sounds made it all the way to the waiting area, I would have left an hour and a half sooner (and so would anybody else who is in their right mind). Why do we subject ourselves to such terrible experiences as dental work? Anyway, after 20 x-rays and at about 15 gags, the dental hygienist lectured me on the appropriate way to brush my teeth, or rather my gums, and that 5 years is too long of a "spann" in-between visits. Then I was informed that I would need to make two more appointments for them to drill, poke, and prod deeply into my teeth. Bummer. The news made my face flush with anxiety- hearing the drill in the other room is terrifying enough, so I definitely don't want that weapon in my mouth. Needless to say, as soon as I closed myself into Surely Dimple, my beautiful new car (who has character due to a serious hail storm), tears came bursting out. So, I remembered how my parents always consoled us after doctor appointments by taking us out for ice cream, so of course that was Surely's next stop- ice cream offers sweet comfort to a drilled, gagged, scraped, poked, and tartar-free mouth.

Captured my Heart

My kinder and first grade students have absolutely captured my heart! These are some of the comments and compliments I received from my students just this week…

“Thpeech teacher, you’re tho pretty.”

“Did you spray paint your hair?”

Pointing to my freckled hands, “You can put cream on your dotth tho they go away.” “You mean my freckles? Well, they’re part of my skin. Look at your arm… your skin is tan, and mine is white with brown dots.” “Tho they’re permanent!?”

“I love coming to speech!” “I love coming to thpeech, too!” "Me too!"

“Ms. Carroll, you’re so fun!”

“I love you, Ms. Carroll”

“I like you’re hair.”

“Ms. Cawol, want to thee my thilly danth?”

“You’re the bethteth!”

“I love love love speech!”

“I like you’re scarf.”

“Yea! I det to doe to thpeech today! I’ve mithed you!” (big hug)

I knock on the door to a kindergarten room. Door opens, and 5-10 students raise their hands and exclaim, “When do I get to go to speech?” “I want to go to speech!” “Will you pick me up today?” “Will you pick me up tomorrow?”

On Friday afternoon, looking stressed, frazzled, and puffy eyed (after my 9^th ARD for the week and after crying for about an hour over a huge mistake I made with incredible time-intensive consequences)…“Peech Teacher, you’re the prettieth girl in the whole, whole world!”

Sweet compliments, silly dances, big hugs, random comments, and precious students bring a smile to my face and fill my speech room with laughter! Thank You, Lord, for these students who warm my heart and lift my spirits.

My Repertoire

A couple of years ago I learned about musical repertoires in a sermon. The minister stated that a musician's repertoire is the group of songs the musician has played so frequently and mastered so beautifully, that he/she can play any of those themes at any given moment. The songs have been practiced and played time and time again until they flow from his/her fingertips as effortlessly and naturally as breathing in and out.

He then challenged us with the question, "What is the tune of your life?". My theme song was easy to recognize, but difficult to own. "Stress" and "Anxiety" are the songs that I play. As a Christian, I should be practicing the tunes of "Peace", "Patience", "Kindness", "Love", and "Joy" in hopes to play my piano as beautifully as my Teacher. For these melodies bring Him glory and spread His peace throughout the world.

Upon hearing this sermon, I was discouraged at the realization of my theme song; however, I had a glimmer of hope with the belief that the stresses of graduate school would be among the most difficult to endure in my life (and that it was only a two-year journey). I had high hopes for my life after graduation... hopes to have the time to enjoy the hobbies that bring me so much pleasure... hopes to have the time to invest in the relationships of people I truly value... hopes to have the time to devote to serving the elderly at a skilled nursing facility... hopes to have the time to teach children in Sunday School... hopes to have the time...

To borrow the quote from Anne of Green Gables, "my life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes". This may all sound dramatic, but it IS true that I have been tremendously disappointed at the reality of my current situation. I STILL consistently work 11-15 hour days. I sleep, eat, and work- that's it. I always have work to do on the weekends. I have been so stressed that I have migraines about every other day. Every single week is like the finals week of grad school. The tunes of "Stress" and "Anxiety" continue to repeat indefinitely. And I have yet to learn how to play "Peace" in the midst of chaos.