Hey, guys. And girls. And millennials who find themselves having no idea what everyone is talking about. And those of you my mom sent here. How’s it going? Hopefully good. Hopefully you have neither passed out in an airport nor gone bankrupt trying to scramble eggs for your family.
Despite the passing out and the high price of eggs, 2024 was a pretty good year for my family in most ways. Thomas is going to be ordained to the Anglican Deaconate soon, Andrew grew about 9 feet and developed a fixation on the British Royal Family, and I didn’t get into grad school.
Yeah, that was hard. Even writing it is hard. I wouldn’t have told anyone, except that I’d put my summer planning on hold because I would have to spend some of it in Europe for the Master’s program I’d applied for. Some super smart people had written me recommendations, and I had to answer their “ hey, did you hear back?” with a “yeah…yeah I did. It’s a no go.”
I’m currently having a mild to moderate identity crisis, because I’ve always thought of myself as smart. My sister’s smarter, but I’m not dumb. I’ve read Anna Karenina. I have a good memory for things I hear and read. And yes, I always knew there was a chance I’d get a no, but…I was surprised, I’ll admit. I usually get accepted to things. And it sounded like fun, and like an interesting adventure. I thought my essay sounded pretty good. And I was one of those kids who didn’t have to try that hard in school. I could get away without studying much, and I got a scholarship to my dream college. I mean, that was 20 years ago, but still.
It doesn’t help that everyone else in my life is brilliant. My dad has approximately 1500 degrees, my aforementioned sister is brilliant and also has TWO kids, you guys. My husband is about to be ordained to the Anglican Deaconate, which means he passed a ton of really hard exams about the Bible and how to teach it, all while wearing an outfit like Father Brown. My friends are all Classical Educators and play hard instruments and know how to read Middle English. I wonder if they think I’m dumb.
I turned 37 in the fall. My hair is turning gray. I’m more tired than I used to be, and it’s starting to feel like there are kids everywhere, because more and more people seem so young to me. I started this blog seven years ago because I was dissatisfied with myself, and I wanted to record what it felt like to get older right on schedule, while still feeling like the same child, the awkward neurodivergent girl who wasn’t sure she could learn to drive on highways, and who felt out of her depth at parties and when her son started whining in WalMart. I’ve been given tons and tons of gifts since then. My dad has ideas about where I can apply next, and my brilliant friends have said that they were surprised I didn’t get in. Thanks, everybody.
I’m not writing this for sympathy, don’t worry. I’m already less sad than I was in December. And part of that is, because I have work to go to every day, and third graders don’t care about degrees. Also, I’m reminded daily of the things I’ve been telling kids for 14 years now…things like “God has a plan for your life”, and “it’s really ok not to get everything you want right now, you’ll see,” and “the most important thing is your character.” I’m sure it irritates them to death, but I know, as they do not, that they’re only eight. There’s a lot of life left for them to live. And as I used to tell the preschoolers back when I had more energy, “you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.” This, and the proper place for glue, are really important maxims for 4-year-olds.
In conclusion, if I can’t practice it, I shouldn’t preach it. I intend to set a good example for my son and my kids at school. Not only will I use glue only as God intended, but I will refrain from throwing a fit about this. What I have is very, very good.
Now, if you want to hear a story about a woman hitting 40 and another woman who isn’t happy with what she has, my brother and I recently did a new podcast episode about the movie All About Eve! Nobody could throw a fit like Bette Davis.
the heartfelt awkward 