SFN

When I graduated high school, my mom gave me a box of my old journals. I remember reading those writings and being mortified of what I had written.

I found this on my private journaling blog from August 2014. It's still very real today, and I want my children to know. 

This post is to my posterity because as I see my children grow, it has become apparent that some may need this.

I have two Master's degrees.  When people find this out, they always say, "wow, school must be easy for you" or "I could never do that because I was never good as school."

The truth is... neither was I.  I went to school for one thing and one thing only; I was looking for respect.

I had two siblings who grew up with me in Arizona.  When we first arrived, all three of us were tested for the gifted and talented program.  Of course, Joe and Alice made it in the program; they were and are geniuses.

I did not.

I barely made it into mediocre math.  I still remember the day the teacher announced that our class was too full, and he asked if there was any volunteers to move to the higher math class.  I wanted anything to be considered among the smart kids, so I fought my way in that room even as the teachers gave unpromising looks to each other.

If it wasn't for that little class snafu, I would never had been on the advanced and AP class route.  It is amazing how much impact a fourth grader's choice has on life.

However, I still couldn't read.  I vividly remember taking a comprehension test in class where you read the story on top and answer the questions on the bottom, and I had my first real epiphany.  If you can read the story, you don't have to guess the answers to the questions.

I read my first book in high school, "Little by Little" by Jean Little.  I connected with this girl who was often told to "tough it out on your own."  She was not respected by her peers, but she continued to do what she loved until she became the famous author that she is now with the respect she always deserved.

Although I didn't know it at the time, my mind missed educational clues.  Things "didn't click" for my either.  If the concept you were teaching did not have rules, I didn't understand them.  (This is why I am a punctuation and APA expert, yet cannot interrupt Shakespeare.)

Even today, please be patient with me.



Dear Child of Mine,
You will figure it out.  Take your time.  I will never give up on you, so don't give up on yourself.

Love, 
Your biggest fan



Here is my other confession:
Not once did I do the assigned reading for school.  Never.  Not for any of my degrees.  I learned that I had to more pay attention in class.  I took notes, but I did not read the text book.

For several years, I have overheard members of the Easter Pageant describe the closeness they felt to the spirit while participating in the pagaent. I longed for that sweet feeling. 

When my son was a baby, he would not sleep in his crib. In fact, he slept in between my legs with his head on my belly for 18 months straight. His little sister broke his cycle, but he often found his way back to my bed. 

Almost three years ago, I got a premonition to have another baby.