It’s Not Over, ‘Til it’s Over

Well, we have survived another snow storm, and are expecting yet a larger one in the next few days. My class opens on Monday, when the little munchkins come on in. The room is lookin’ good, but finishing touches will be coming together over the next month (I will show some highlights on Monday). And, I am now 25, feeling refreshed after a weekend with a dear friend and being loved on from friends and family afar.


I said that 25 feels, or sounds, like a true-adult. As a “true-adult,” this is who I know I am…

I know, or just realized, that my friends often know me better than I know myself. I can be very straight forward and sometimes harsh, yet I’m sensitive…my friends already know that. They know what they are getting when they come to me, for a good time or chat… they know better than I know. [And they have stuck with me… so grateful]

I know that little ones are my joy, passion, and love. Whether my own (one day) or everyone else’s, I don’t know if you could convince me that anything else is more important than loving and pouring into them.

look out window

I now know that I love pineapple and coconut. Hated them forever. Canned pineapple Thank you Rwanda, Africa for your delicious pineapple, and thank you hubber dubbers for pushing me to new experiences.

I also know that I so resonate with this. She also has a book, I haven’t read it, but it’s on the list.

I know I like to read, but rarely fiction.

I know that, for me, getting started is the hardest part.

I also know that things change. This is who I am now. It may look very different down the line. And I know that that will be good.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s