Reality Is Setting In...

Taylor was away at camp last week.  I like the way that sounds as if he was a camper exploring the forest, eating smores, and hoping that his counselor let the cabin stay up a little later tonight.  Of course, the reality is that Taylor was the counselor and his cabin was in bed nightly by 11 pm just as the rules suggest they should be. The reality is that Taylor is grown; he is an adult.  He's not a small child anymore or even a middle sized one. He is grown and the countdown to his departure has begun. The harsher reality is that I am not ready...

I have all kinds of plans to keep myself busy when Taylor leaves for basic training in January.  I'm pursuing my doctorate.  I have a close set of friends, a really great church, a loving family. I will be okay or I will fall apart.  Right now, I am worried it will be the latter...

Taylor left for camp on Monday and I watched television.  I didn't delve into my studies, go eat with friends, or clean my house.  I sat on the couch and watched television. Day 2, more of the same with some cleaning thrown in.  Day 3, I did go eat with friends before coming home to watch more television. I don't watch a lot of telelvision so I was growing concerned.  I cannot become this person.

I plan to live to 90; I hope to live to 100 if I am still lucid.  This means I have well over half my life to live.  What do I do now? Anyone have any great ideas?

Swearing In Day

Taylor and I traveled to Columbia today so that he could take his oath to officially join the Marine Corps. The love of my life, my heart that walks outside my body bravely raised his hand and duly swore to uphold the Constitution of this great nation of ours, to protect your freedom and mine even if it cost him his life to do so.  There is not a single person alive worthy of that sacrifice and yet, my beautiful baby boy promised to give his life to save ours.  Yes, I cried.

The commander who issues the oath for all poses for photographs with each newly sworn-in recruit if their parents are present.  He asked kindly if I was okay, and I nodded through the tears. Taylor assured him that they were simply tears of pride and he is right.  I am so proud of the young man he has became. I am also terrified of the dangers and hardships he will face as any mother would be. I am saddened that he will be far away and not sleeping soundly in the next room. I know this is his path, but I will miss him.

This was it until February 6th or whenever the Marines decide his actual departure date is.  He has almost ten months to prepare to leave.  I have ten months too...

I am proud of you, Taylor.  I love you more than life itself.

And The Countdown Speeds Up...

Senior year is a series of milestones. The clock heading to graduation starts ticking the night before senior year begins and ends when your child walks across the stage to receive his diploma. First day of school.  Tick.  Last home game.  Tick. Mid term exams.  Tick.  Graduation supplies ordered and delivered.  Tick Tick.  The time is elapsing but like the New Year Eve's countdown in Times Square, no one really pays attention until the time is almost over. People start counting along when 10 seconds are remaining, not two hours. I've known for months that the end of senior year means Taylor leaving home is real. There are no more finish lines to cross before his enlistment begins.  Tonight is his senior prom though. Did anyone else hear the people yell 10, 9, 8...?

 Taylor and his beautiful girlfriend, Rachel posing in front of the azaleas. Rachel earns many points for this because this is Taylor's fifth prom and she is the first girl to come to our house for pictures.  Every year, Taylor goes to pick the young lady up from her house and I either join him there for pictures or I depend on the date to share pictures.  Rachel willingly came to the house after Taylor picked her up to pose for pictures. Nice change.  Of course, we then drove to Greenville to take pictures of the entire group but still...

 Every year, Taylor and Wrenny, my great-niece take pictures while he is all dressed up.  Last year, a classmate asked if she was his and Taylor laughed.  In today's society, teenagers having children is more and more common.  I am proud to say that Taylor is not one of them.  He does love Wrenny the Pooh though.

Lucas, Taylor's best friend, also came to the house for the photo session and a little help figuring out the pocket square.

This is Taylor's prom group. Taylor is blessed to have an incredible group of friends that he has known forever.  Starting from the left is Suzanne.  In first grade, Suzanne hurt Taylor's feelings by telling him that he had to go to remediation because he was dumb.  He was devastated.  He was (and is) dyslexic.  Taylor forgave her long ago.  Me?  well... Next to her is Chelsie.  She was the tough girl on Taylor's peewee soccer teams.  He once invited her to an all boy birthday party, but she didn't come.  To a seven year old, the invitation was high praise. Interesting side note, Chelsie dates Zach who went to camp with Taylor year after year as they grew up in church together. Small world... The handsome young man next to Zach is Lucas, Taylor's very best friend who he has known since nursery school. In the long pink dress is Sarah., beautiful and sweet Sarah.  Taylor and she have been fast friends since middle school. The young lady in the dramatic red dress is Tori, Taylor's prom date from last year.  In middle school, Taylor told me that Tori reminded him of his "big sister cousin" Cricket which is the highest praise anyone could be given. The tiny blonde next to Rachel is Bree who has went to school with Taylor since first grade. She likes to wear baggy shorts and t-shirts most days so it is wonderful to see her all dressed up.  The last couple is Taylor and Rachel who are absolutely goregous.  Taylor has talked about the twins (Rebecca, Rachel's twin didnt go tonight) since middle school.  He has always thought Rachel was beautiful.  She is.  You know how in Father of the Bride, Steve Martin sees a little girl telling him she was getting married rather than his grown daughter?  That's how I feel when I look at these kids...  How is it time already for them to be grown?

The countdown is speeding up...  Swearing in May 2nd.... Class Day... Graduation... Basics... Tick Tick Tick...

I May Be Sad, BUT I Will Be Educated...

There is no denying that I will be sad when Taylor leaves for basics.  I am trying to come to terms with the change, and I know that I will obsess about what he is doing, his safety, his happiness, and all those motherly things we begin worrying about as soon as the nurse hands us our child for the first time. I will drive myself insance worrying unless I give myself other things to focus on.  With that in mind, I registered for my first Doctorate classes today. Just call me Doctor Todd.

Teachers love school.  It's one of the reasons that we teach.  We get to explore our favorite subjects every single day while learning new information constantly. What better way to occupy the mind of an educator than to educate her? There are issues with this plan, of course. One, I am already in a state of exhaustion most days just from my teaching duties, so to add hours of research and classwork on top of that may be a bit much. I want to be tired enough to sleep and not lie in bed awake at nights worrying about bumps in the night. I do not want to be so tired that I cry at the drop of the hat or am so ill that I am hateful to my students. Two, educators normally get paid more the more educated they are.  The state superintendant of education wants to put into place a plan that would end this practice.  Teachers would be based on the performance of their students with no relation to their education level.  (The whole debate about paying teachers based on student performance is a whole other discussion, but just compare it to paying dentists based on the number of cavities their patients have...) Zais' proposal means that I am going to go into debt for a degree that probably will not benefit me financially in my current job. Luckily, the point of the degree is the knowledge gained and the distraction from worry.  Plus, it will be extremely cool to be Dr. Todd.  I believe that is worth a little exhaustion.

A plan is slowly forming here though this blog...  I am going to go to school, write Taylor daily, Skype when I can, go out with friends, stay active in my church, and pray more than I ever thought possible.  It is all going to be okay.

Why Isn't There A Rubric For Men?

As a teacher, I use rubrics whenever I can to fairly assess student projects.  Rubrics are great for both teachers and students.  The teacher simply goes down through the rubric and grades the student on a set of pre-arranged criteria.  Less work for the teacher is always a good thing.  Rubrics are wonderful for students because they know exactly what they are supposed to do to earn a specific grade.  The perfectionist students check and recheck the criteria to make sure they earn every single point possible.  The slacker students check the rubric to see what they need to do to pass. Everyone knows what is expected of them.

I had the pleasure of serving as a judge for senior projects this week.  Every student enrolled in English 4 at my high school chooses a project of interest and invests 15 hours of their time outside of school exploring the topic.  Some students job shadow; others volunteer their time to make a difference in the world.  There are clear guidelines about what the project must entail.  They have deadlines.  The students must find and work with a mentor who will guide them along. Finally, the students present their work to a panel of judges.  The judges grade them on a scale of 1 to 4 in five different categories depending on the level of competence. The students shine during this process.  Everyone knows exactly what is expected of them, so they do an amazing job.

What does this have to do with my dealing with the empty nest?  Everything.  I had dinner tonight with a good friend, and the conversation turned to dating.  He wanted to know what age you had to be before it became acceptable to date someone significantly younger. Who would approve of say a 25 year old dating a 40 year old, for example?  If you are attracted to someone, does age matter? The conversation moved on to other topics. It was just one of those great talks where both people have things to share and neither wants to stop talking.  Banter should never be underestimated. As I was finally leaving, it came to me. There should be a rubric for relationships.

Somewhere down the line I may want to look around for some companionship that talks since Bella hasn't yet mastered human language. I am blessed in that I can support myself and my Talbots habit on my income and that I have great friends. I do not need a man, but maybe it would be nice to date one everyone once in a while. As my students would attest, I have high expectations.  Throwing a project together at the last minute and with little forethought will not score well in my classroom.  This is definitely how I am in my personal life as well, so the guy would need certain criteria to get a date based on my dating rubric.  What is on my rubric for men?

At the very top is communication skills.  The guy must be able to talk about a wide variety of subjects and have interesting things to say.  Life experience works well here.  I want to be friends with the man I date.  I am a talker, so to score high on the rubric, you need to talk. Bantering is a skill that cannot be taught unfortunately.  The man who has that skill is a find. Awkward silences would result in point reductions.  Being dull as dirt or having an extremely limited vocabulary would as well.

The man has to be intelligent.  I teach history.  I read constantly.  I am working on my doctorate. I want to be able to discuss all the new things I am discovering with the people around me.  If you have no idea what I am talking about and that glazed over look appears in your eyes, you aren't going to score very high on my rubric. Pick up a book.  Turn on NPR. Talk to me about your job - you should be the expert in what you spend your days doing so impress me with that knwledge.  I'm a big enough nerd to be interested in absolutely any field that I do not know about. With that said, I don't want the guy to be uber intelligent in the way that Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory is. Those men who are soooo intelligent that they have lost touch with every day life will also lose points. I want the intelligent man who is normal.  More Leonard than Sheldon.

A sense of humor is key.  I laugh all the time over silly things, over puns, over articles, over life in general.  Laugh with me and you get points.  Make me laugh and you get bonus points. Send me funny things that you have to think about to understand and you get the top rating.

The top scoring men will be motivated, hard working, polite, and honest.  I was simply going to put be a good man there but since this is a rubric, the qualities need to be more defined that a vague term like "a good man". You should always strive to better yourself and the situation around you.  You should work hard to be the best in whatever career you have chosen, and you should have manners. I am southern afterall. You should never ever lie if it can be avoided at all.  To say absolutely no lying is unrealistic; I mean if I ask if these jeans make my butt look big, lie. Otherwise, tell the truth.  No relationship should be built on lies.

I think the rubric so far would work well for most people.  I have a few specifics for my own personal rubric though.  He couldn't be a drinker. I am not against alcohol.  I have friends who drink that are perfectly responsible people.  They would score well on most parts of this rubric, but I personally do not want to date anyone who identifies themself as a drinker. If they want a drink on a vacation or at a party, they could have a drink.  I never want beer or wine hanging out in my refrigerator though.  I've been there and done that.  I didn't even want a t-shirt from that amusement park. He needs to like kids.  I will never again have a child.  I will, however, have grandchildren one day hopefully.  I plan to spoil them rotten, and have them at my house as often as my future daughter-in-law will allow.  Any man I date has to want them at the house as much as me. Finally, the perfect high scoring man on my rubric would be a manly man.  I know that there are many, many great men in the world who would never be considered manly.  Some other woman can date them.  I want a manly guy who has calloused hands, looks right in flannel, can fix my car, and thinks mowing the lawn should always be his job and not mine.

Finally, on every rubric, there is always that one subjective item.  Creativity. Preparation. Presentation.  It is the wiggle room for teachers to judge the undefineable aspect of a project.  With that in mind, my rubric would include chemistry.  Without chemistry, no man is the perfect man. With it, lots of the other characteristics fall to the wayside.

Okay.  I have my rubric. Now, where do I find this man?

You Have A Dog, Right?

I have never lived alone.  I had roommates in college; I got married at 22 and had Taylor at 25.  I have no idea how to live a solitary home life.  I don't mind being alone. It gives you time to read, to escape into other worlds, to have adventures without leaving your home.  There is also a sweet justice in having control of the remote and watching every single episode of America's Next Top Model without remorse, compromise, or random sports shows. I can comfortably pass a day or two in my own company. HOWEVER, how do you pass a year, five years, forty years living alone?

This is one of the questions I have been pondering lately.  When Taylor leaves for basics, does my life become one of silence at home transforming me into a clingy chatty person whenever I am around people? No one likes to be around  THAT person, so how do I avoid it? Do my meals become sandwiches, soups, and the occasional meal out with friends? Which meals can easily be cooked for one? The questions keep coming until I feel overwhelmed and panicked... Seriously... How do I avoid becoming the stereotypical cat lady who lives alone? I don't even like cats.

I've asked friends of mine that live alone for advice.  They fall into two categories.  The young ones who are living alone until they meet Mr. Right or Mrs. Right and begin their lives.  They are out partying, working, shopping, and dating.  They are not worried about living alone because it is a temporary thing.  Their future as a duo or a family is waiting for them somewhere. That was the first half of my life, and this is the NEXT half...  The others in the second category live alone by choice.  They are the introverts.  They settle into their homes like an old man sinking into his Lazy Boy recliner. They go to work and come home to the silence they crave.  This is not me most days.  I need people to talk to, to laugh with, to simply make noise. How do I do this?

The best answer I have received so far to my questions was a simple question..."You have a dog, right?". I do.  Bella is a Pomeranian mix.  Taylor and I bought her this past summer as a pet for him, but she has quickly became part of the family.  Bella crawls up in your lap whenever you are watching television, ensuring that you have someone to whom you can make your observations about the show. She runs to you when you unlock the door welcoming you home. She is smart and will play fetch for as long as you are willing to throw the ball for her making sure you are needed and never bored. Most importantly, for me right now, Bella makes noise and so whenever I hear the floor creak or a bump in the other room, I am not frightened because I simply attribute it to Bella. Before we had her, I would panic fearing that it was a robber. She also acts as an alarm system of sorts.  Whenever a car pulls up the drive, Bella growls.  There is no way to sneak up on us.  She will not allow it. In extremely basic terms, Bella keeps me company. I guess those cat ladies are on to something, but I still don't like cats.

I Have No Gift For YOU... Pa rum pum pum pum...

Today is the start of Lent.  I have observed Lent since I was in college eating in the dining hall with my Catholic friends.  While I am not Catholic, I observe the forty days as a way to celebrate the sacrifice that Jesus willingly made for us all.  I have given up ice cream.  I have made the dreadful mistake of giving up reading for pleasure - that may have been the longest forty days of my life since reading to me is like air.  Last year, I gave up all bread which was incredibly hard since everything in the South is breaded.  This year, I prayed about what to give up, what sacrifice could I make to honor our Savior... and I was told to ADD something rather than subtract. Really?  My life is hectic.  My life is full.  My plate spills over most days.  Why would I add more?  God knows what He is doing though. He told me to write about the part of my life that comes now... the part that I am struggling to accept, the part I am afraid to face, the part where I become me again. So, I am blogging for Lent. 

Growing up, The Little Drummer Boy was my favorite Christmas songs.  I'll admit that I liked the pa rum pum pum pum refrain, but I also like the whole message of giving what you had to celebrate the Lord.  I cannot play the drum; it is not a talent I was given. I can write though, so pa rum pum pum pum. Here is my blog for Lent.

What will I write about???  Well, I haven't got that far yet.  It's about me trying to figure it all out and focusing on the positive.  I need your help if I am going to figure out how to live alone and create a full life after Taylor (my one and only child) enlists in the Marines.  It is the Seinfeld of blogs. It's about nothing and everything.  It's about life and that alone should offer 40 days worth of material.

I have no idea how to blog, of course...  I am not claiming to have anything of great value to say. I simply feel compelled to write daily during Lent.  I read blogs.  I follow a daily fashion blog called The Bombshell Beauty blog (Bombshellbeauty.blogspot.com).  In it, Sara Bartlett from St Paul, MN posts what she wears daily along with witty comments.  She's plus-sized, looks great, and loves fashion. It's cool to see what Sara is wearing and get ideas about fashion, so maybe I'll do a little of that... I have a Facebook friend who blogs about the adventures of her newborn daughter, and a friend from high school who is a professional blogger (FriedOkra4me.blogspot.com).  They blog about their lives as moms, so why not a blog about a mom letting go. Of course, there is the movie Julie and Julia and about the lady who blogs while she tests every recipe in The Joy of Cooking. Maybe I'll throw in a few recipes along the way.  I don't cook often, but I make a few things amazingly well. Maybe I'll do restaurant reviews or book reviews because I absolutely love to read. Yes, my friends, this will be the completely random blog.  Life is made up of a gazillion different things.  Why shouldn't my blog be?