Relay for Kick-off at the end of January was a success.

First team captain meeting this week was a success.

We are on a roll people.  On a ROLL!

 Team Captain Kits and Bags are out…..

We have 15 teams already and many of them are new!

Our team has the theme picked out…..CANCER COMMANDERS and we shall dress as the Robertson family.  Beards, bandanas, camo, and duck calls will be our apparel for Relay weekend.  Maybe some face paint?  As a new and true die hard fan of Duck Dynasty I am pretty darn excited about our theme for Relay.

The word is out in our community!

And when I received this from 365 Happy it had me immediately thinking of Relay…

This is Relay for me.  There is so much to hope for each year that we fight back against cancer.  There’s so much to do before May 18th.  I’m fortunate to have so many to love….and we are all in this fight together.  Being a part of Relay is simply amazing.  Being a part of Relay with those I love the most…..incredible.

Go out and find your something to do, someone to love, and something to hope for.  It is by far the simplest way to find happiness.

Truly Fortunate,

My sister found the best app at the new year and I’m so glad she did.  Every day it sends me a happy message and 98% of the time it is exactly what I need to hear.

It’s like an app that speaks to me.  I had no idea that was even possible.

The other day I received this one….

Oh Mary Tyler…

Don’t you know it!

I do feel brave.  Most days.  99% of the time.  And I realize that the cards life has dealt me (and my family) haven’t always been Aces….but we’ve managed to get through.  And if we had never struggled before then would we even be the people we are today?

I know that I sure wouldn’t be.

We haven’t had wonderful things happen to us every day of our lives.  Heck, we’ve had some pretty crappy times but that’s alright. We came out of it all alive…..and together as a family.

We’re brave….

Overwhelmed is an understatement to explain how I am feeling right now.

We are full fledged in the process of moving.  In fact, in two weeks at this point we will be living in a different home.  Scary but true.  I do NOT feel ready for it all!  Packing is hard.  It’s all stressful. There aren’t enough boxes.  There isn’t enough space.  We have too much crap.

And throughout last week whether the cause be stress or eating some new fruits (to be flippin healthy!) or even the dust and paint from remodeling I developed quite a lovely itchy rash on my back and side that was driving me insane.  Of course I start to freak a bit when I see all those shingles commercials.  Who wouldn’t?  Went to the local minute clinic for them to tell me I was wrong and that it was just a plain ole rash and they have no idea why.  But their cure?  STEROIDS!  PREDNISONE!  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Instantly she asks me if I have been on it before and if I knew that it might make me crazy.  That’s always a great feeling.

I have been on it once before due to some crappy poison ivy that a friend forced me into after a wild night at an outdoor concert.  Some friend she is!  (haha – kidding!)

I have felt like a psychotic insomniac since Saturday evening.  I’ve slept very little.  But, boy, have I accomplished a TON for the move and decisions.  I have curtains and rugs picked out for almost every single room.  Paint is decided for every room and only two rooms left to paint.  I picked out carpet today and its installed next week.  Things are really coming along!

Hard decision on this one but I think I’m going with the darker brown, (Burnt Almond) .  We are painting wood paneling walls!  Lots of before and after pics to come at some point.

Definitely do NOT recommend Empire Carpet….go with Tish Flooring if you are in the Indiana area!

I was even sanding wood paneling walls last weekend like a bad ass. It felt great.  Partially relieved the stress. \

Have you seen the Pins on Pinterest that recommend spray painting Rustoleum’s Oil Brushed Bronze on  old brass stuff? Ya, I’m doing it…

More pictures to come of final results!

You won’t believe the before and after shots when this is all said and done.

We still have a while though…

After we move in the next step is painting the floors which will get wood paneling….then installing those floors ourselves.  And by ourselves I don’t mean me…I mean the man…Michael.  I’ll sip on a cocktail and watch and look real cute!

I’m actually feeling tired at this point even though I feel like I just typed this in two seconds.  So, I’m going to attempt to lay down and get more than about 4 hours of sleep!

Truly Fortunate for all these Changes (no matter how much stress it’s causing!),

Tape, prime, paint. Tape, prime, paint. Over and over and over again.

Okay, so there are a few steps in between….like washing the walls and spackling and sanding and such. I never knew I would learn so much about home renovation before 30 but it’s happening. It is really happening.

We’re moving. I hate to leave our old farm house. But, technically it isn’t ours. We love it here. We love our view. We love being way out in the middle of no where. We just plain love it.

But for a variety of reasons we are opting to move to his parents home because they will be moving as well. So as we all get ready to move we have started on the renovations to make their home now our home for a bit. Currently we are painting….in hopes that we can get what we want painted before we get new carpet.

There are highs and lows to moving.

Highs – a fresh start, making a new place more of our own, closer to family, closer to work for me, a pool, a hot tub, my guy getting to live where he grew up, financially smart, horses next door, closer to stores and shops, sidewalks to exercise safely, TWO bathrooms, ice maker in the fridge, beautiful fire place and mantle

Lows – not in the country but instead on a busy street, wood burning stove (I am not gonna Laura Ingalls Wilder and start chopping wood), no upstairs storage unit that was so easy to start the beginning stages of hoarding, no dishwasher, actually moving all of our crap

Right now the lows are removing border and the entire process of painting. It makes me wonder if in 5-7 years (our plan) that I will really want to build or buy a home. So far I am loving our paint choices but honest to goodness never want to do all this again. Painting is not my friend.

Just ask Michael. I get whiny and take lots of breaks. I’m trying to be a trooper, but frankly this stuff is for the birds.

So far we have the office and spare bedroom done. We got started on the upstairs hallway tonight as well. I’m trying really hard to document before me after pictures but I keep forgetting!

Soon I will post more. For now I have a photo of my hottie handy man.

Fortunate to have two arms to paint with and a loving, hardworking man,

Also ley

I love Christmas music.  I have the Christmas radio station on all the time. 

When I was younger one of my favorite parts about Christmas time was when my piano teacher brought out the Christmas books.  Christmas music was the best to play on the piano.  My favorite were the slower songs like “Silent Night” and “Away in a Manger.”  The older I was the more difficult the music was…..but also sounded incredibly different. 

I’ll never forget the rendition of “O Holy Night” that I played in some of the last few years of piano lessons.  I was in high school.  I practiced that song so much.  I still have the sheet music, though I doubt I can pick it up and play it perfectly.  It was the most beautiful rendition of “O Holy Night” I had ever heard played on the piano. 

I played it for my grandma and grandpa at their small town church one Christmas Eve and surprised them.  They had no idea.  The hugs I received from both of them after playing I will never forget. 

I played it for church many times at our hometown church where I grew up.  I played for myself because I loved it.  But more than that, I think I played to make my mom proud.  Seeing her smile each time I would step down from the piano was one of the greatest feelings in the world when I was a kid.  She was so proud of me when I played at church.  I miss that.

Just recently I borrowed a book from our music teacher (who, ironically, was also my piano teacher years ago) and practiced a few songs at school one afternoon.  It all came back to me, for the most part, and I played Christmas songs over and over.  I cried, but it was a good cry.  It felt so good to sit and play.  Tomorrow I am playing some Christmas songs with a student who plays violin and one who plays guitar.  Just for fun.  Just because.  I’m pretty excited. 

I cannot wait to get my piano back when we move.  It’s been at my dads since I left because we don’t have any space, nor do we have an interior wall here to keep the piano tuned. 

“Breath of Heaven” is another tearjearker for me.  I sang that a few years after my mom passed away.  Barely made it through the song.  Looking back, I have no idea how I did.  Beautiful song.  Beautiful message for the season.

“Breath of Heaven” and “O Holy Night” will always make me cry, no doubt.  I’m okay with that.  Most of the time they are happy tears of wonderful memories of the music that I love.  Music is a part of me.  My mom helped to make it a part of me.  How could I not be joyful about that?

Blessed this Christmas Season,

The past two days have been emotionally exhausting, much like the weekend.  I have found myself gritting my teeth, clenching my jaw, and fearing the worst.  I walked my students to their art class on Monday and constantly thought about what we would do if some psycho came barreling through the building.  I hate that it has weighed so heavily on my mind, but I also know I am preparing myself mentally and physically for possibilities which, sadly, could take place. 

I re-read my “I will” statements several times to myself throughout the day Monday and today just to remind myself what I said I would do.

So I have.

I have turned the channel or turned my head when his face appears.  I don’t care why he did it.  I don’t care about his name.  I won’t even speak it.  He does not deserve my attention for any reason what so ever.  That’s my choice.

I have talked to my “little soul” which I mentioned at the end of the day both days, smiled at him often, and asked him how he was doing.  He has had two great days and both ended with a smile and a, “See you tomorrow.”  He’s not the only one I’m concerned for, but just one of the cherubs I’ve taken time to hug and smile at. 

I have talked to those that needed to talk.  I fought back the tears.  There were a few who did not know of the events and out of respect for their parents I chose not to have a class discussion.  Instead I talked with several of them one on one.  It was interesting to hear their viewpoints as to why or what happened.  So many have still not lost their innocence.  Thank the Lord. 

I left this quote on our board yesterday and today.  Many asked me why.  I told them it was something that made me feel better after being so sad from the weekend.  I hoped that it would help them as well.  I saw many writing it down in their assignment notebooks.  It was worth it.  Thanks to my sister for sharing it. 

I have delivered my thoughts to those above regarding my concern for our policies.  I plan to continue to speak and do what I can to keep my students as safe as possible.

I have a pile of cards and letters to send.  A coworker also received the idea to send snowflakes to help make their new school a “Winter Wonderland” when they return back to a new building.  I plan on spending time tomorrow making all kinds of colorful snowflakes with words of encouragement to send to Newtown.  I also saw an idea on Facebook of 26 random acts of kindness in memory of the 26 lives lost.  I’m going to spread this message to students as well and I’m going to document my 26 random acts of kindness on the board so they can see my ideas, and hopefully share the love as well. 

I have stayed out of the gun control debate.  I have my thoughts, my opinions.  They are my own.  I was hoping the media would also stay away from the autism accusation of violence.  They haven’t.  So I promise to fill any clueless person in on the real deal of autism.  What I know from who I have worked with.  I will be sure to let them know it is not a “disease” that results in a “killer” which are terrible words straight from the media. 

I have prayed.  I squeezed my beautiful niece so tight when I saw her Sunday.  I squeezed my precious little nephew for as long as he would let me before he wanted “Down!” I squeezed and kissed the face of my oldest nephew who has the best smile when he sees me.  Some day very soon I know he probably won’t allow me to do that.  I’m going to for as long as he will let me. 

I have made it through the first two days of a week.  I have battled nothing compared to those families who lay precious children to rest.  I have battled nothing compared to those families who lay their precious moms, daughters, and sisters to rest.  I have battled nothing compared to the rescue workers who had to see the tragedy first hand.  I have thought of them often.  I have prayed for them constantly.

Truly a Fortunate Teacher,

In light of recent events that have close to home due to my job I have decided to think of things that I will/can do. This was actually the only way I found peace of mind Friday evening and got any amount of sleep.

Friday’s events in Connecticut have literally shook me to the core. It has me questioning a million things. Do we even want to bring children into this world someday? Would I have had the courage to hide my fifth graders and save their lives or would I have screamed and freaked with a psycho in the building? Would I have remained calm and read them stories reminding them how much I love them so that gunshots are not the last thing they hear? What will happen to those hundreds of surviving children as they try and live a normal life now scarred by the events of that morning. Will there be more mental illness issues trickling down throughout Newtown all because of one disturbing individual? How can any town or community ever recover from that day? What kinds of questions will I have to answer on Monday? Why didn’t I hug every one of my fifth graders as they left the building Friday? Why don’t I hug them every day? Why don’t I advocate more for that one little soul who screams out for help everyday in my class? Why haven’t I tried harder to encourage his mother to seek help? What am I going to do first thing Monday to make sure he knows he is loved?

Millions of questions.

Very few of them have answers yet……or do they?

This is the list of “I Will” statements that I have came up with over the past two days.

I will ignore the medias attention on the shooter and not mention the individuals name who took the lives of so many because he doesn’t deserve any of my attention.

I will make sure that when I have a little soul screaming for help (like he must have been for years) I will advocate for them. I will make it be known to their parents and our social worker that I am concerned. If nothing is done there then I will go further if I must.

I will answer their questions Monday to the best of my ability and if it means that I shed a few tears, so be it. My students need to know that I am heartbroken that such a thing could ever occur in a safe place like a school.

I will go to my administration and discuss our lock down plan and procedures because I believe they need updated. Quick.

I will see if my students want to make cards or send kind messages to those of Sandy Hook community. Sharing their thoughts and condolences may be just what they need to get their worries out on the table. I will have to walk a fine line because I realize I’m not their parents. I would never try and fill that role. What I do want them to know (as well as their parents) is that I love them and care about them very much. I would like to think had we been in the same situation I would have absolutely risked my life for theirs. I would like to think that it is in my nature and in my blood to protect children. I would never consider that being a hero, just part of the job.

I will continue to stay out of gun control debates via social media because I don’t believe this tragedy should turn immediately to a political debate. For goodness sake can we let these people grieve?

I will pray and I will hold my niece and nephews a little tighter now each and every time I see them.

Truly Fortunate for Another Day,

Ashley

Years ago my mom use to take the time to make and roll the homemade sugar cookie dough. Then we would all stand around the kitchen bar and help cut out cookies. We would decorate and cover them with little cinnamon candies and sugar crystals. I remember it being so much fun.

Today I realized how much work all of that really was for her. Wow, I completely underestimated the time she devoted to making the dough, the patience it took to roll out the dough and work with each of us. She made us feel special and gave us each our own cookie sheet to fill up with our special ones.

Today we did that with the littles after a chili lunch with the family. We didn’t have their patience and devotion for the full time, but for the time we did have it….it was well worth it. Thank goodness my sister was here to give the patience for rolling out dough. I just didn’t have it. Thank goodness for Holly and her icing skills.

Little B enjoyed just pouring on the sugar and eating bits of chocolate while he did.

Miss Princess was the most devoted taking her time to help us ladies in the kitchen with rolling and cutting our each cookie.

Little C just came in when his cookie sheet was ready for him. Still, he was creative in his endeavor and tried his hardest at this “girly” stuff.

We even used the same type of cookie cutters that we use to do.

I believe this will be a new Sunday afternoon tradition before Christmas. I’m looking forward to it.

I always look forward to family time.

And I felt her with us all throughout the day….love that feeling.

Have a wonderful week,

Ashley

11 years ago…..
I said goodbye to my best friend, my mom.

11 years ago I cried and held her hand as I watched the machines lines go straight. A couple weeks before that I told her I loved her and she said, “Don’t cry.  I’ll see you later.  I love you more.”  Those were our last words.
11 years ago I watched my family sit around a table and make the hardest decision of our lives.  One that I question almost daily, for many reasons.
11 years ago I was amazed by the amount of people in the hallways and waiting rooms of that hospital.  All people who loved her.  Who loved us.  Who couldn’t believe she was gone.
11 years ago I stood accepting hugs and “I’m Sorry’s” by some of the most amazing friends, family, neighbors, and community members.  To this day I’m not a fan of hugs.  They remind me of her funeral.  I’m trying to overcome that.

17 years…..

17 years of the absolute most amazing mom there ever was, without a doubt.

17 years of her packing my lunch for school.
17 years of her making me try new things at dinner.

17 years of the best birthdays and holidays any kid could ever imagine.
17 years of Saturday shopping trips to the mall and Kohl’s.
17 years of room mom and soccer mom and PTO mom and everything mom.
17 years of piano lessons and playing to watch her smile.
17 years of Sunday morning organ playing and cinnamon rolls.
17 years of Friday night basketball and football games and slumber parties afterwards.
17 years of “I love you more’s” at bedtime.
17 years of 4-H fun.
17 years of hugs that were warm and will never be replaced.

17 years.

Today and every December 1st for the rest of my life I will do my very best to remember the 17 over the 11, or the 12, or the 13, or whatever that number may be.

Someone once sent me this in an email, “You can’t measure life in quantity but look at life as a quality thing.  There are lots of people who have their family with them for a very long time, but don’t have much in the way of a quality relationship nor are they fortunate enough to have what you and your mom had.  I’m sure you would agree that you and your mom had lots and lots of quality time.”

I certainly agree now.  In the beginning I might not have.  But I certainly agree now.

Another quote I was sent, “Mothers, since time began, have been the ones who give us our base, our sense of who we are….our shared identities….our strengths.”

Missing my angel mother,

CAUTION: Not for the weak at heart or those who rodent feared.

Sitting on the couch.  Home alone.  I spot a furry ball walking leisurely across my kitchen floor.

I already knew the little turds were back.  I’ve seen their droppings.  I’ve cleaned up after them.  I’ve moved kitchen supplies around.  I’ve seen dead ones in sticky traps.  I’ve spotted them running across the mud room floor.

This one had it coming.

He took his own sweet damn time.  And I’ve had enough.  Shaking I screamed at Shiloh and asked her to get it.

She walked over.  Sniffed him.  Then walked away.

She’s worthless.

So I decided I was going to save his life and sweep him out the back door on the porch.  He was slow enough and I had time to grab the broom.

I grabbed the broom and he took off so I did the only thing I could do.  I screamed as loud as my mom would have if she had been here.  She HATED mice.

He froze.

And I smashed the crap out of him.  His little legs started to move again.  So I smashed at least a dozen more times until blood splattered.

And then I puked.