My blog blinked, and nearly 3 months have passed!

I see that I blogged in November. Well, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and--tomorrow--Happy Valentine's Day! Sheesh!
One thing is good: we haven't moved anywhere! HA!
Many things are good, actually. Practice is chugging along steadily--and growing! 27 new patients just in January! The boys are well. Remodeling--phase 1--is nearly completed and we love how everything is turning out. I am a mama to a new mama-van. She's beautiful. Black, shiny (not today because it rained again), spacious, cozy, and rides so smoothly. I love driving it, hence the nearly 1100 miles so far. We've only had it a couple of weeks.
We've been busy enough for me not to sit down and blog, but not TOO busy that we haven't been having fun. It's a nice balance, the balance that I wished for so many times last year.

Whitney

I was never extremely starstruck as a child. I didn't plaster my walls with heart throbs or anything. I did appreciate (and try to imitate) some great, famous people. This weekend, another of my "greats" died. No more Princess Diana, no more Michael Jackson, and now no more Whitney. It's another blow to my preteen gut, and a great loss for the world.

I'm sure my parents wanted to shut me up when I belted out Whitney Houston songs in the car...on my Walkman tape player...many times. I shudder to think of the reality of that singing compared to my perception of how it played out in my head. There wasn't much quiet, subdued singing in Whitney's songs.

From what I remember, Whitney was always a one-woman show. Lights dimmed, except for the spotlight on her...not much fancy choreography with an army of dancers like now...no exorcisms in her performances (what was that about last night?): it was mostly just Whitney. Her beautiful physique, her glamorous gowns, her incredible gift of a voice. She sang of falling in love, falling out of love, and being cheated by love.

Watching her life become a train wreck was tough to watch. It was like watching a flower wilt over the course of nearly two decades. I hated to hear about her addictions, bad marriage, failure as a parent, abuse, etc. She was Whitney. How could a life path so beautiful, and full of potential just take a plummeting turn downward?

I heard Whitney's daughter sing a rendition of Adele's Someone Like You a few months ago. While it wasn't quite Whitney, it renewed my hopes that she might emerge as a star. Her pipes were powerful, yet tender--a lot like her mom. She must be very sad.

Full Tummies, Thankful Hearts

My life is full of people, items, events, and memories to be thankful for.

*Healthy self, family, and friends
*A brilliant (shhh, don't tell him I said that), confident husband
*Curious, imaginative, loving, and mischievous boys
*Supportive, loving, selfless parents and in-laws who also make the best grandparents!
*Dental school being OVER!
*Old relationships that are new again
*A new nephew who is coming next month!
*A beautiful new house
*A year full of changes, opportunities, and adventures!
*Having more calmness in our lives
*Getting to have weekday lunches with Nick again
*Attending DAYTIME school events with my boys

A Mom Day with Michael

Short background: Nick was taking Nathan to the country with my dad, thus leaving Michael with me. I worried that Michael would feel left out, so pushed a bit for him to go with them. That would mean I could sneak to Houston (with the dog, my fearless protector and traveling buddy) to SEW baby bed stuff with my mom and Elizabeth. Oh, my machine was roaring-ready to go!

Michael chose NOT to go for 24 hours of the testosterone fest. Squish went the possibilities of sewing. I was a bit bummed, but delighted to spend the time with Michael. Maybe he was more wise than me: we needed some time "just us."

This morning, we scooted out to the World Hunger Relief Farm for their fall farm day. It was our first adventure out there, and definitely WON'T be the last. Super cool place. It makes me sad that I never made it out to Urban Harvest in Houston because it is probably very similar. I must take the boys sometime when we're in town. Farm Day was fantastic. It's a nice sampling of a farm environment.

We went on the hayride, pulled ever so modernly by a Dodge pick-up truck! Awesome! We saw goats, chickens, and turkeys ("happy turkeys" as the hayride dude called them with their days numbered--not so sure how happy they really are). We walked through rows and rows of crops in various stages of growth. We observed, we appreciated, we discovered, we talked. We held hands without protest.

And in the middle of this glorious time together, he randomly stopped, looked up at me, and said, "Mom, farm day is fun." Michael is a man of few words. He speaks when necessary, but it is often thoughtful and profound when he does. Farm Day WAS fun. It was more than just a trip to experience a farm. We needed some time together. And as much as I would've enjoyed some sewing and another dose of Houston, I realize now that what I really needed was a dose of Michael.

On the way home, we stopped for a date at Whataburger--HIS choice, not exactly mine. We came home, he beat me at Checkers, we made and ate brownies, and he's back to piddling around with toys. I'm glad he didn't go with the guys!

Fall is Here!

I've managed to fill up my "staying at home" schedule pretty well lately. That's a good thing, as I found that sitting idly can be pretty lonely. The weather seems to have taken the final turn from being sweltering hot--90 degrees yesterday--to pleasantly windy and nippy. It is a welcome change.
I spent the morning on a kindergarten field trip with Michael and his class. It was marvelous. I didn't have to take off from work and we had a great time picking out a collection of all the little pumpkins that Michael and my other little traveling friend could carry to the check out.
Lately, I've escaped to San Marcos, had a visit from my cousin, visited the Waco zoo, begun my volunteer job at the hospital, gone on the field trip today, done various chores for the practice (mostly decorating--fun!), and have been preparing to go to Houston this weekend. I think I'll always look forward to going back for a dose of Houston. We have several family events this weekend, and hopefully Nick and I can escape for a date...for real Indian food or something special. This weekend will mark 16 years that we've spent together, counting back to when we started dating.

Adjusting My Perspective in Fry's Parkinglot

We made a nice little trek down to Austin yesterday to go to the farmers market and celebrate the 3rd birthday of my cousin's twins. Great morning. I had a couple of days over the last few weeks where I was just in a funk. I missed the challenge of working (not the mess of working, just the fun, invigorating, challenging part), I felt pretty isolated and a bit lonely in our new surroundings, lacked a sense of purpose, and just needed to be more content.

I have a blessed life in so many ways, but I feel so grumbly when I get in a funk like that. I truly hate to feel that way. Yesterday, it took just a few seconds for me to refocus my thoughts and be more content. Just a few seconds for me to have more gratitude for the life I have.

We pulled into the Fry's Electronics parkinglot to kill some time before the party. Who can't leave Fry's without finding something? We got out of the car, and the sight before us stopped us in our tracks. It was a rundown, shabby, dented, worn little car. All windows were down and a chipper little dog smiled and greeted us from its perch inside. His sidekick, another tiny mutt of a dog, nuzzled his way up obviously straight from a nap. Cute little things, absolutely filthy car. With each twitch of my eye, the scene became more and more clear. On the dash: among so much other *stuff* was an open (for definitely a few days) can of dog food, partially eaten fast food, a broken hand mirror, rolled up socks, a dingy brush, and a stick of deoderant. The back held a mostly crushed box of cereal, some beat up boxes of what looked to be clothes, a dirty blanket balled up, and countless mounds of things that I couldn't really identify in such a short glance. On top of the mounds was an old, worn out doggy bed.

Someone lived in that little, super compact car.

So many things came to mind. How could I even think about feeling a little bit of discontent? Where is this person tonight? What choices did he make or what circumstances had to happen to ultimately get that person to live in his little car? Is there someone out there who cares about that person that doesn't even know about his homelessness? Why was he parked at Fry's?

Yes, Nick and I have worked hard for the life we have. But, we are so fortunate. So fortunate.

September 11, 2001: Something I Hadn't Really Thought About

When it was September 11, 2001, I was barely making sense of the world as an adult. In the years since then, there have been many events associated with the aftermath of 9/11. Sacrifice, adjustments, travel interruptions, close-calls with threats, and events that seemed to keep opening America’s wound again and again. I can only imagine the sacrifice of American families—from the heavy losses of that day to the sacrifices made by families of soldiers who have carried out the offensive and defensive missions ever since. Not to mention the loss, vulnerability, and lingering anger that we all probably feel.

I recently found out that one of my former students is a US Marine. I was proud of him before, and I’m incredibly proud of him now. He is now the age I was when he was in my class. I guess I knew this, but it hadn’t really occurred to me until now that many of the young soldiers defending our country NOW were just children when our country was attacked in 2001. Half or more of their lives have existed during these years of war. They WERE the children whose teachers, like me, had to tell them of the surprise attack that morning—and try to make sense of it so that they could grasp some sort of concept of what was happening. The young soldiers of today have gone from innocent children hearing that terrible news to courageous defenders of our country. During the years in between then and now, these children have grown up. They’ve studied, they’ve learned, they’ve trained, and they’ve become our bravest men and women.

When I told my school children about the attacks that day, I never really considered that at least one of those children would be a Marine that would continue that fight ten years later. I didn’t really know what to expect. There was so much uncertainty and fright, and I just had a sucker-punch feeling of our country being so violated. But, somewhere in that room, a young boy sat there whose destiny was directly linked with the military response to those attacks. I’m really humbled by that and humbled by his service to our country.