Thanksgiving

This yearJonathan, Gretchen and I will be celebrating our first Thanksgiving together alone at our home. I must admit, I'm really excited to begin a few special traditions of our own. We may go for a hike with Penelope, maybe bake a pie or two, or jump in the growing leaf piles that have found their way to our front yard. I'm guessing the one of us who is under three feet tall will be fully supportive of the leaf pile jumping. We had the opportunity to celebrate the holiday with some of Jonathan's family this past weekend and we'll be with some of my family at Christmas so we are piecing together the puzzle that is sharing special times of year with all of the people you love (not without its challenges). What a wonderful year it is. This past weekend our pastor spoke about being good stewards. Of the earth, of our gifts, of our roles etc... This year (among many, many things) I'm grateful of the opportunity to be an always-better steward.

Vintage

Clothes don't mean a whole lot. Unless they do:). This dress was a dress that I wore when I was little, like, toddler little. My favorite baby photo of me was taken in this dress and now, my daughter is wearing it. It is one of those moments that marks the passing of time and really reminds me of how special family is. I'll have to find a copy of the picture and upload it to the site. She's such a peach. Sometimes I need to pinch myself to remind myself that she is ours. Anyway, this is my second post of the day, so I'm going to make it short and head off to get some extra sleep. More tomorrow or the next day. Tshchuss!

"Arms Race to Authenticity"

Today, like many others, I was asked a pretty typical question by the father of a young man who attended one of our Fall Focus Day prospective student events. "How do ya'll ensure that the essays students submit, are actually their own work?" My first thought was, "how sad... the national conversation has come to this." Enough people are cheating their way to the top (in business, government, relationships etc...) that even our high school age students have begun to get in on the game. Enough of the college going population is using loopholes to get into their preferred institutions that students and families who have moral compasses feel a need to ask us, "how are we ensuring that it's all fair?" Uggh. I am a mom, a counselor, a wife, a friend, an administrator, a teacher, a communicator, an organizer- I am a lot of things (some better than others). I must admit, I never thought I'd feel like a member of the plagerism police. Thankfully, I genuinely believe that we haven't reached a point where anywhere near the vast majority of students are cheating their way through the essay writing process. I hope, with all that I hold dear in the world, that we never get there. It would be an immensely sad commentary on the messages adults are sending children these days.

I was having a conversation about this very topic with my boss a couple of weeks ago. He referenced an article recently published in which an independent college counselor said that he actually encourages his students to include spelling errors in their applications- so as to look more "authentic". After all, we are all imperfect- right? His philosophy- the high gloss, polish of college applications these days has become less and less attractive as admisison counselors begin to question where the line should be drawn between the packaging that a college counseling staff does, and the application prep that a student in capable of. Yes- don't stop now, you read that correctly, the counselor actually recommends to his students that they include spelling errors in their college essays so that admission counselors will think that they haven't received "too much help" in the revision department. -- Silence-- Sorry, I just needed a second to shake my head, sigh and get myself together. Isn't that sad? That the pressure to get in, the pressure to be admitted to "that place", the pressure to "figure out the system" is so great, that students are cheating their way through.

At the risk of underdeveloping this post and getting off of a topic I could probably write about for an hour- lets move on to a tangent. It is hard to be truly authentic- all the time. If I really think about it, I'm myself most of the time, but I'm sure there are moments when I'm not as open about my fears, opinions, desires etc... as I would be if I wanted everyone interact with to know the REAL me. As Thanksgiving approaches, maybe I'll make that a new goal. To think about authenticity. I'm not in the arms race, just interested in feeling like I've gotten there. How could we all be just a bit more real?

On another unrelated note, it is FREEZING tonight. I'm going upstairs to put on my fuzzy bathrobe. It feels as though winter is arriving- and I love it. The leaves were gorgeous today. Almost as if the peak foliage waited to arrive until November 17th, just to celebrate my mom's birthday (today). We're in the countdown to Thanksgiving- t minus five days- and I'm grateful that quintessential Virginia weather has been replaced by the crispness that reminds me of my New England home... Heres to hoping I can throw a few dishes together that make me feel equally holiday like. If I was being real with you, and we know that's my goal, I'd tell you that it isn't Thanksgiving without my mom's creamed mushrooms, my grandma's stuffed dates or cherry swirl pie. If I get all of that done it will be a miracle. So, I'll keep you posted.

Onward to authenticity.

The Keyboard or a Tylenol?

Headaches are awful... Sometimes my head throbs. Kind of like there is a group of frustrated one year olds in there, trying to find their way out through my eye socket, or my ears- with no ability to communicate and ask for help. (Admittedly, that statement was wierd- REALLY WIERD- but I think it gets my point across, and additionally, throws in a reference to the challenges and frustrations that one year olds goes through as they are "finding their way". Good for me.) I think my head throbs because I'm still finding my own way- as a mommy, as a wife, as a professional, as a friend. If you'd told me at 20 that I'd be writing that at 30 (oh gosh... I actually wrote that- and I'm 32... where does the time go) I would never have believed it. Aren't we supposed to have it all figured out by now? No, of course not, but little parts of us believe that. That is why rough patches seem hard to deal with. Tough moments are tough. Every day has one or two (thankfully on most days, the challenging stuff is far outweighed by the number of amazingly wonderful moments), but the tough ones- they cause headaches.

For me, the really unfortunate thing is- swallowing pills is worse (there's a story there too- but that is for another time).

Writing is a pretty amazing thing. I've realized of late that I should really make more time to freewrite- just get my thoughts out, "on paper" if you will. Right now I'm relishing a few minutes of quiet time here at the house. Grey's Anatamy is on in the background, Penelope is cuddled up on the floor next to me and Gretchen is snoozing upstairs. Oh- what was that- angel bells? Am I in heaven? It is really nice to have a few minutes to breathe... just breathe, just be. Some times time goes so quickly. It is hard to appreciate everything that is going on when the clock seems to race by you. I'm working on that though. Kind of like the day of our wedding. People told me to take time to watch, to listen, to smell. Reminding myself that it is important to pay attention, to go slow, to appreciate. That is something I'm getting better at as I get older. So, writing- that is one way I'm going to attempt to pay attention. To process. Maybe tackling the keyboard each evening, to share- to write... to get it out on paper... maybe it will be a good replacement for the Tylenol tablet that is becoming a standard part of my bedtime routine...