It’s been a good minute.

I took an unplanned break. I meant to write. Really, I did. I had all these things to say and yet, somehow, weeks and months and a whole year went by. If I’m truly honest, and I will be with you, I stopped writing long before I stopped typing posts because I was playing that comparison game that I fall into so often. I, being my over-critical and over-thinking self, thought that what I had to say wasn’t important, or polished, or edited, or well-planned, or proof-read enough to put out there for someone to read. And so I stopped writing.

I have many unpublished posts, or skeletons and even more scribbles on paper, notebooks and index cards. All of them great ideas at the time and then pushed aside as I let Self-Doubt and Fear talk me out saying what I really had to say.

But I want to write again and here’s why. I miss the old blogs. I miss the friends I made and the realness of them all. The days when we just told our story without all the affiliate links and SEO and worrying about stats and who was seeing us (or not visiting, landing or otherwise spending time on our site.) I got caught up in the stats (I’m a sucker for stats). Ha! I just typed status, and maybe that was a Freudian typo. Don’t we all love status in some form or another? I got caught up in statistics. I measured the worth of my words by how many clicks and looks I was getting. And that’s really not why writers write. Not because we want to know that everyone loves our words. We do it because we have a story that must be told.

Just over a month ago, I started a new life job. I loved working with the older adult population in the setting that I was in, but that + all my other roles = me being really exhausted, sick all the time and a wee bit crazy. I’m working in a school setting now, summer looming around the corner and having the same schedule (roughly) as my own kids and it’s pretty fantastic.

My dream of writing and working and being a real live wife and mother is looking very possible and I’m super excited. And guess what? If you read this post and love it, great! I hope we can be friends. If not, that’s ok, there’s still room enough for us old-fashioned bloggy types. I know you probably miss those days too.

P.S. We are beekeepers now! We expanded to our second hive this last week with a swarm from the wild bee tree in our backyard so, I’ll probably mention that every once in a while too!

 

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Where I’ve Been and Why It Took So Long

Today is the first day, in a very long while, that I’ve even attempted to write something coherent for the public to read.

In May 2015, 3 years and 3 days ago, I received my acceptance letter into that Occupational Therapy Assistant Program. The excitement of that day, dampened by my grandfather’s death a few days before, held nothing to foreshadow what school would do to hijack my life.

Not just me going back to school at 38, wait, WHAT!? Yes, I did. With 2 kids and the extraordinary help and support of my family — my WHOLE family. We ALL got me through that 2 years. We enrolled our son in Montessori School and now our daughter attends there as well.

For the last year, I’ve been working, learning the ropes of my new career.

I’ve missed writing. I haven’t written anything in so long that I was a afraid that I had forgotten how. But, just like everything else. I’m jumping back in. No planning ahead today. Just making a renewed commitment to pick up my keyboard again. And, oh does it feel good!

I want to take what I’ve learned on this sabbatical and share how it has helped and changed our lives for the better. Inside and out.

Some topics that I’m planning on covering are:

  • Occupational Therapy (what it is and who we are)
  • Montessori Education (especially the public school to Montessori transition)
  • Teaching Independence
  • Work, Life Balance
  • The Caregiver Role

My goal is to start conversations. I want to hear from you. I want to know what you think and what will help you live a more fulfilling life.

Post your questions in the comments below.

One Year

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One year.

A year to find my place. 12 months that I never once searched the internet for a job. 52 Saturday nights that my stomach hasn’t been tied in knots because the weekend was almost over. 365 days of knowing that I have the power to make someone’s day by helping them.

It’s hard to believe that it has been a year since I took my first step into a hurdling run toward a new career. When I walked through the gate and down that sidewalk sandwiched between manicured grass for the last time, I drove off and literally did not look back. I was free from trying to fit a mold that was clearly not something my soul was meant to be crammed into.

I walked into CNA classes one month later and knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I wasn’t just switching my vocation, I was finding and fulfilling my life-purpose. It was real. It was deep. And it was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I was leaving everything I had prepared my whole adult life for.

When I was high school and then college I wrestled with The Questions. “What should I do forever?” and “What is my calling?” because that’s how seventeen and eighteen-year-olds and twenty-somethings think. I made the choice that I thought would please my people. Then, I backed out and made the choice that felt like the right one at the time. Perhaps it was. I still love environmental science. Truth be told, if I had done things like I should have, I’d probably still be in that field.

It served me well for a time, and I’m not convinced that it won’t serve me still yet.

A year later and I’m in over my head (a good thing) learning about nerves, muscles and diseases and the things I can do to improve someone’s life. I love it. I devour it. I’ve started early because I’m a biology geek like that.

In one week I start classes full time. Sitting with people that have the same goals as I. A huge change from last July. That first step was crazy, scary. But I couldn’t be more convinced that I’m in deepest waters where grace abounds.

Does your next week look drastically different that your one year ago?

P.S. My son says that I’m not a geek. He doesn’t know that I’ve been reading on muscle groups in the legs for the last week. And meditating on the plasticity of synapses. He still thinks I’m cool, “kinda”.