Once upon a time I went away to college...

Once upon a time I went away to college, two and a half hours north of where my parents lived. I went knowing just a few people- one close friend from high school, a couple more from sports- but after growing up surrounded by the same people for so long, it was a totally different experience to be just plopped down in this new place, without my support system all around me. Luckily just over two hours wasn't so far at all, but it was still a shock to suddenly be on my own after being so not on my own my entire life.

They had all of the freshman arrive a week early to get acclimated to our new college world and attend some of the million events and activities happening all over campus. I remember contiuously seeing signs for Greek life and Rush Week and it started to get my wheels turning a bit. Sorority life? I wasn't too sure. I certainly hadn't come to college with the intention of rushing, but in the spirit of "new" that was pervading every inch of my life, I decided to try it out and dragged along my friend from home.

I think sometimes it's hard to really see life-changing events for what they are as they are happening, and I'm not sure if I really grasped just how much this would change my life. There's so much more to say about my four years as a Pi Phi- many more stories for another day for sure- but for now I'll just say that looking all the way back to 2000 I can't even begin to express how fortunate I am that I just did it. Through it and its connections I met my lifelong friends, the girls who I call my sisters and who are deeply intertwined into my life so naturally and easily that it's amazing to just step back and look at this family of friends we've created. We may not all be the same; in fact, we're insanely different, but over the past decade we've all grown together and apart, and back together again in different ways, that our now adult selves are able to really appreciate the strength and stability of our bond even more. We don't all talk all of the time, and naturally some of us are closer than others, but when we are all reunited it's as if no time has passed. And to me, that is the sign of a true friendship.

And now fast forward twelve years to the present. It's Fall again in Flagstaff, the leaves are orange and gold and red. It's freezing out, our breath clouding the air as we laugh and talk, and the clouds hang in the same way around the San Francisco Peaks just as they did ten years ago. I walk arm in arm with the girls I spent four years laughing and partying and studying with. The girls who have seen it all. We talk about old times and we catch up on our todays. We reminisce at how strange it is to be back together in this place, visiting our old haunts and walking the same steps we did, way back in the beginning. And we make wishes for the future, looking ahead to a day just like today and yesterday, when the six of us will walk arm in arm together again as little old ladies, thinking how strange it is to be back together in this place, visiting our old haunts and walking the same steps we did when we were young.

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She is a friend of mind.  She gather me, man.  The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.  It's good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind
  
-Toni Morrison, Beloved

Hello, I'm an Adult.

It's pretty amazing, isn't it? This whole growing up thing, even when you're already grown. It's weird to me to be 30. And a wife. And a mother. And to be walking around this little town with my friends and our strollers and our hot drinks in our hands and I think holy, holy, holy shit. How did I get here? It's a question I wonder about a lot. Lately I've been having all of these moments where I'm smacked right in the face with YOU'RE AN ADULT, DANIELLE! And it's weird because it's not like I don't know this and it's not like these moments are really monumental. It's the simple, everyday things that floor me, and really, I've been living on my own since I went away to college. This age didn't just sneak up on me. Hello, I'm closer to 40 than I am to being a kid- I've had some time to think about it.

But sometimes, like this morning, I'll be doing something, like ordering a bagel and cream cheese to split with Henry. And we'll go sit and I'll break it into two and I'll have that same odd realization that I'm doing the same things my mother did. Like somehow buying that bagel and splitting that bagel is so bizarrely parental and adult it is mind blowing. It's the simple things, grocery shopping and looking at the labels on this or that, sticking stamps on bills, or talking to a friend on the phone, Henry balanced on my hip as I glide around the kitchen multi-tasking. Or this past weekend when Hank and I went on a date. We had a babysitter come over to be there while Henry was asleep, and to me, THAT is adult. That's what my parents would do. They would call Karen Kowalski and she would come over, we'd get our snacks and open her backpack of crafts, and that was just how some of our Friday nights were. But now we're doing that? What?

I wonder then if this is just how it feels for some people. If maybe this is a part of growing up, the disbelief that we are in fact growing up. I think ahead to 40 and 50, wondering if I'll still feel the same way I did at 20 and 30, "how did this all happen so quickly?" in the front of my mind as I look back and all around at my life. Will I be sitting at the table on my 80th birthday, eyes crinkling into a deep smile, feeling 30 still and thinking about how fast the time went and how on earth is it even possible that I'm 80?! I wonder...

As we drove home from our date that night we cracked the windows just a bit to let in some of the cool Fall air. We turned up the stereo and sang along to Broadway Calls as we drove, the moon lit up like a Chinese lantern bobbing among the stars as we dipped up and down through the hills. We talked about all of it; about being parents and about having babies, about how weird it is to be talking about being parents and how weird it is to be talking about having more babies. We were 16, we were 25, we were just what we are, a Mom and a Dad driving home to tuck their little one back into bed at the end of the night. It all goes by so quickly doesn't it? I think the key is to just try and grab hold of anything you can, and tuck it away in a safe place, to pull out and remember when you need it. And I think it's okay to wonder where the time went, to feel strange at how you were there and now you're suddenly here, and to think holy, holy, holy shit- how did this happen? And I think if we still feel this way when we're 80, still feeling like we're so young and wondering how this wonderful life happened to us, I will look back on all of it and feel like we did it just right.

How to Get to Sesame Street...

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Growing up we didn't have cable. We didn't have Nickelodeon or MTV, HBO or the like. We did have those few basic channels though, which were just enough for my parents to always catch Seinfeld, fuel our TGIF Friday nights, entertain us with Saturday morning cartoons when Saturday morning cartoons were still awesome, and then of course supply us with PBS for all of our favorite shows.

My earliest television memories are a mix of Sesame Street, Reading Rainbow, Mister Roger's Neighborhood, and 3-2-1 Contact. LeVar Burton and all of those amazing books were my world. I lived for the different stories I'd hear every time Reading Rainbow came on, my "to-read" list a mile long. I learned my ABCs from my parents and pre-school, but Sesame Street helped to reenforce all of those lessons every single morning. Mister Rogers and his always changing shoes and cardigan, Big Bird and his songs, the science projects on 3-2-1 Contact...these were all a huge part of my childhood.

It was a time when I'd measure time by my favorite shows. My "how long until we leave, Mom?" answered back with a variation of "one Sesame Street and one Mister Rogers honey." It was when I'd try and recite "a loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a stick of butter" to myself to see if I could remember it too. It was Telly Monster and Grover, Oscar the Grouch and Kermit. It was the age of Lady Elaine and Daniel Tiger, of hearing that 3-2-1 Contact theme music and knowing I was about to learn something neat. It was seeing books come alive on Reading Rainbow and singing along while imagining that cartoon butterfly turning a scene out of my book into reality too. It's all of that and so, so much more.

So when I heard Mitt Romney say he wanted to cut funding for PBS, it upset me. While watching the debate I even stopped to rewind it, having a bit of a "say whaaat?!" moment. Let it be known that I am firmly in the Obama camp, but even so, after hearing this I knew I had to do some research before I totally and fully started disliking Romney more than I did. So I followed up, I watched him on The Situation Room, I realized that he meant exactly what he said. To be fair, I can understand where he's coming from, and I get the want (need) to cut the spending and borrowing. But it's beyond that.

Cutting PBS funding goes way past just taking away Big Bird. We all know Big Bird will be fine on his own. It's about taking opportunities away from areas that NEED that programming more than most of us can even comprehend. It's about taking that programming from rural areas where children may not get the same educational opportunities that kids in larger areas get. It's about taking that programming from kids who may not get to go to preschool, where the only "schooling" they might get as a toddler is in fact Sesame Street, or one of the other educational programs PBS offers. Yes, PBS will probably be fine if there was a cut in their funding. But things would absolutely change in how their service is provided, and I'd say it's safe to say that PBS would not be available to everyone if it was no longer a public access channel, as cutting funding directly affects those stations (some big, some small) that provide PBS to viewers.

I can't imagine a world without PBS and all of the wonderful people and things that were such a large part of my own development and growth. I think of Henry and our mornings- sitting around in our pajamas, eating breakfast while we watch Sesame Street. I think about the other day in the bathtub when out of nowhere he began singing a song about boats he had heard Grover singing that morning. And I think about watching Gordon talk to Elmo about how it's okay for boys to play with dolls- and watching them discuss gender roles and how it's okay to like what you like, regardless if it's a "boy" or "girl" thing. PBS is important. Education is important. And PBS is education for so many children. And although this may be a smaller issue than equal pay for women, a woman's rights to her own body, or marriage equality, in a way it could be just as big when you think about the ripple effect. Every action yields a reaction and quite simply, this will affect our children...and affect our children and you affect our future.

It's scary, really. I think about the bigger picture and it frightens me to imagine the loss of such a huge influence in so many kids' lives. I wholeheartedly hope PBS is always around and available to everyone, and I hope that every single child has the opportunity to visit the magical world of Sesame Street sometime in their lifetime too.

How about you? Did you grow up with Sesame Street and PBS? Did you have a reaction to Romney's statements? Or maybe you're on the opposite end of the spectrum- I'd love to hear from you too!

Perfect Albums

The other day I was talking with Shirley and her husband Nate when the topic of the "perfect album" came up. I'm sure we all have some of these in our lives- certain albums that we love from start to finish. No skipping songs, no getting tired of the beginning or end- just a perfect album with an ideal grouping of songs.

I love all kinds of music, but for some reason when Fall hits I always seem to get a little more nostalgic and listen my favorite records more than usual. Maybe it has something to do with that familiar feeling Autumn brings, or remembering going back to school in late August and September, but whatever it is I always seem to gravitate to the music I loved most in high school and college.

And as far as perfect albums, I have a few. Here are the four that came to my mind right away when thinking about it.

1. Jimmy Eat World's Clarity

I can still remember when I first heard this album. I was a freshman in college, dating a guy who was super into J.E.W. He played this album for me one night while we were hanging out and I fell in love with it upon first listen of the song "Table For Glasses." From there it was on my car's CD player and in my Discman (ha!) every single day on the way to class, and every night before I went to bed. I also have a vivid memory of driving home in a blizzard with Shirley, maybe sophomore year up in Flagstaff, listening to "Ten." I can still remember how quiet it was as we drove through all of that white, the music just barely in the background.

2. The Gaslight Anthem's Sink or Swim

This is probably my most favorite album of all time and it's another one of those bands I heard so much about but didn't listen to for one reason or another. One summer before my family and I left for our East Coast trip (I think it was 2007), Erin told me I just had to download some Gaslight Anthem to listen to while traveling.  She had been trying to get me to listen to them for a few months and always told me how much I would love them. From being from New Jersey like me, having meaningful lyrics chock full of literary and Springsteen references, and dreamy vocals, she said this would be my new favorite band. She was right. I downloaded Sink or Swim and turned it on once we got on the plane...and was enthralled for the entire six hours. And I still am today.

3. Jets to Brazil's Orange Rhyming Dictionary

I had been a Jawbreaker fan in high school and really liked them, but they weren't my absolute favorite. I did love Blake's voice though, so when they formed Jets To Brazil it was as if a tiny little musical wish of mine had been answered. When I first heard Orange Rhyming Dictionary I was also in college and hanging out a lot with an old friend of mine who shared similar musical interests. Our main group of choice was Sunny Day Real Estate (The Pink Album is forever a favorite) but when he put on "Sweet Avenue" one afternoon I was sold. That song remains as one of my all-time favorites but the entire album in particular is definitely one of my "perfect album" choices.

4. Modern Life is War's Witness

Oh, Modern Life is War. Such a good band, but this is really the only album from them that I love. It's perfect to me though, and from beginning to end it totally speaks to me. It reminds me of being younger and driving around with Hank- we both just related to this album so much during that time. I still listen to it now and again, and it never fails to make me feel a bit of happy-nostalgia, but at the same time it also makes me incredibly sad. Two years after it was released one of our best friends passed away and this was the album I listened to non-stop during that time. It's a little hard to listen to some days, but it's also therapeutic to me and I'm so appreciative I had it during that time.

Some other albums I love from beginning to end: Dr. Dre's 2001, Broadway Call's self-titled album, and Third Eye Blind's self-titled album.

How about you? I think it's fascinating to see what others call "perfect albums." Feel free to post about it in your blog (be sure to leave me a link so I can check it out), or share a list in the comments! xoxo

On Teaching, and On Staying Home

Sometimes in the middle of my day I'll look at the clock and think, "oh, I'd be in 4th period right now." It's weird how ingrained some things become without even realizing it. I taught for almost six years, and still, in my second year of staying home with Henry I think of it all the time.  I loved teaching. Like any job there were some days that dragged on; hard days, terrible days, days that made me question why I was ever a teacher to begin with. But those were few and far between, and for the most part I woke up every single morning excited to go to work.

Having a job that changed every day was great for me. I never knew what to expect and I spent most of my days laughing and talking with my wonderful students. I adored teaching teenagers, and while sophomores made up the bulk of my day, each year I always got to teach one special senior class too. 

I can remember when I started. I had the worst butterflies that felt more like a three-hour long nausea as I got ready that morning, anticipating that first bell. Luckily I had group of new teachers starting at the same time, so we all commiserated together, high-fived at lunch ("we're halfway there!"), and could be spotted slumped in our chairs at the end of that first day, emotionally drained and exhausted. It was exhilirating though. Not just the job itself, but the idea that my primary responsibility was to expand these little peoples' minds. I had the ability, every single class period, to positively impact up to 35 kids. And obviously some kids checked out some day, other days I probably reached only one or two...but even if I did just get through to a couple, that was still amazing to me. I loved the possibility each morning held as I wrote out that day's plan on the board. I loved learning new vocabulary words right along with the kids, I loved exploring new authors and stories, and I even somehow loved doing the same thing hour after hour.

When I first made the switch to stay-at-home Mom people would ask me, "Aren't you going to get bored? Don't you feel weird 'wasting' your college degrees?" This would bother me at first; I'd take offense to it, but then I realized that everyone has an idea what success or happiness is, and sometimes people think their way is the only way. Sure, I went and got my Bachelor's and Master's, and sure I taught for a good chunk of my twenties, but I don't see this as lost time. If anything, I feel like a better mother for having these experiences, and for being able to inspire my own children to follow their passion in life, whatever that turns out to be.

It's weird though when something is a huge part of your identity and then it's just gone. I was a high school English teacher. That's what I did. And now I'm a Mom staying home with my son. And that's what I do. I found great joy in that first job, the first "real" career I ever had, and I find joy in this new job too. Much to the surprise of even myself I'm hardly ever bored, and also much to my surprise there are some days I truly believe working outside the home would be a lot easier. Some days are hard and filled with toddler tantrums, some days I feel disconnected from the rest of the world, but like any job some days are harder than others. Luckily 99% of the days are wonderful though and most of all though I'm grateful to be able to stay home right now. Life changes, we change. My college self found it hard to imagine what life would be like in ten years, and now that I'm here it's hard to imagine myself in another ten. I may go back to teaching one day, but for right now I'm perfectly content teaching my little class of one. And so today while we were reading in the big green chair in his room I had one of those thoughts: "right now I'd be starting 6th period with my sophomores," and I smiled to myself as my littlest student nestled into me and said "one more Mama," grabbing for Goodnight Moon once again.