Diamond earrings

Dress yourself in story

My fingers found their way to the earrings in my earlobes and began the subconscious ritual of twisting them around and around while we waited.

I’ve been twisting my earrings in moments of stress since I was in the 3rd grade, standing next to mean old Mrs. Boyd’s desk reciting my multiplication tables. I would sway back and forth, sweating in my sneakers, twisting away on those earring studs while I stammered out three times one is three, three times two is six, three times three is three …

And so there I was three months ago, sweating in a hospital bed in the OR prep room, having found out only hours earlier that our twin baby boys were to be born that day, and naturally, I resorted to that familiar comfort of twisting my earrings.

I was just a few twists of the diamond studs in when I felt a small burst of panic. Ugh, I groaned. I was supposed to leave these at home. I can’t go into surgery with them in my ears.

It’s no surprise at all that I forgot to take them out. With very few exceptions, those diamond studs are in my earlobes around the clock. I’m not a fancy jewelry person. In fact, those earrings and my wedding ring are the only pieces of jewelry I own that have any worth to them at all. I don’t wear those earrings to be fancy. I wear them because in a very tangible way, they remind me of who I am.
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world-map

Around the world

So I’ve alluded some here on the blog, a bit on Instagram, and hinted around a bit on Facebook, but I haven’t been too specific about our plans yet, simply because they’re still etched in lightweight pencil with an eraser nearby. But enough of you have asked, and it’s not a secret, so I figured I’d go ahead and tell you:

Next year, my family and I will be traveling around the world.

We’ve wanted to do this for a very, very long time, so this isn’t a rash decision. Ever since we moved back from Turkey three years ago (has it really been three years already?), we knew we wanted to get back “out there” and explore. So the concrete is still very mushy on our plans (in fact, you could say we’re still mixing it), but we’re planning on traveling for the 2014-15 school year. So, a bit over a year from now.

I’ll be writing about our plans a bit more this next year, as we learn about places, glean advice from friends doing the same thing, and make global connections, but today, I thought I’d address one of the bigger questions I get. It’s this one:

Why?

(There’s also How? and Where?, but those are separate posts for another day.)

So, here’s why.

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road

Be the boss of you

As you start this week, may you be courageous and bold enough to do the things that are good and healthy for you, the things you know make you a better grownup and more in to who you’re made to be.

I distinctly remember this one evening after visiting some family friends late into the night, when I was soundly sleeping in the backseat, my head propped on the side of the car and my body rolled up in a self-made cocoon. I’m guessing I was about 8 or 9, and we had just pulled up into our driveway; my dad turned off the ignition and my mom gathered my younger brother, also sleeping, in her arms.

“Tsh. Tsh. Time to wake up. We’re home,” my mom said, and then she turned toward the house with her arms full. I wondered—if I sat still long enough, would one of my parents return to the car to carry me, too? Maybe they’ll think I’m sound asleep and didn’t hear them. Or maybe they’ll have pity on my too-big body and schlep my dead weight over their shoulder.

A few seconds passed of stillness and silence, and no one came back for me. This is when I realized: I was too big to be carried in any more. I was growing up, and part of that meant not getting to be a baby. Most of the time, that was cool. But at 11 p.m., when I wanted someone else to do the getting out, the walking up the driveway, the clothes changing, and the teeth brushing, I was bummed that I didn’t get an official memo when that part of my life ended. Somehow, I blinked and missed that phase between being small enough to be babied and big enough to now do some big things myself.

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chair

Weekend links

The readers who’ve won a copy of Freefall to Fly are: Kristi, Kelli, Catherine, Christina, Kristi, Dawn, Kristin, Laura, Christie, and Katie. Congrats to the ten of you! Look for an email and get back to us as soon as you can.

 

“We’re so busy watching out for what’s just ahead of us that we don’t take time to enjoy where we are.” -Bill Watterson

kat-post-kids-history

Harness the power of your personal history

Would you send your kids to a school that didn’t teach history?

Is history necessary? I mean, it’s called history…it already happened. We can’t change anything about it. Shouldn’t our kids focus on subjects like math and science to get them ready for the future, instead of reliving the past?

Whoa…keep your tar and feathers in your hands and hear me out for a second.

This isn’t actually a post about school, education, or history. It’s a post about you. And me. And the power of our personal history.
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