It Freakin' Means Something

So the worst thing that has happened to my blog is Google Reader going away.  I am putting my Syrian Dart Hex on you, Google!  I am feeling an urge to write and since for the first time in 2 years I am not drowning in school work, I am going to write something.

First of all, I gotta address the age of this blog...it is nearly 8 years old!  I started it when we moved to Stephenville in August 2006.  Darcy was 11 months old.

From the Way Back Machine, Fall 2006:

And for comparison:  Easter 2014:

Here's my very first post ever.  I wasn't even 30 yet.  We did not have a Reagan  Roux-Roux or a Bubba Gump, but here is some evidence that at least one was on their way...

See Reagan?  She's on the inside...July 2007.

All that to say, this blog has been around longer than some of my children.  Speaking for my blog, it feels neglected. I'm sure I have things to say.  I've talked about a lot of things here.  Homeschooling, quilting, blah, blah, blah.  Check the sidebar for a list.

On to today's topic...it freakin' means something.

So what I've been doing lately is school.  I'm 37 years old.  Gah!  But I just completed my Associate's degree.  I'm a college graduate.  I graduated from Tarrant County College.  I was one of hundreds of graduates about 2 weeks ago, and that may be a conservative estimate.

See me?


This is Brian's very best guess.  At first, I thought, "I'm not going to walk.  That's stupid."  Actually, further back than that, I wasn't even going to finish the associate's degree.  I was just going to transfer to Big School.  I didn't think earning the associate's was important or that it meant anything. But it freakin' means something!

Why?

Because my first semester, I took a music class, The History of Rock & Roll, that literally made me cry.  One semester, I took a Biology class that met every Saturday.  It was taught by a real MD who didn't realize this was Biology for Non-Science majors.  I took Biology, Part II, online during Christmas Break.  Whose idea was that?  That same Christmas, I took an English class where I had to write a 10 page annotated bibliography over Walt Whitman.  I hope I never see that guy again or read another word about "Leaves of Grass".  Which is pretty much impossible since Apple is now using his work to hustle theirs.  Ugh.

Brian was so insistent that I earn the degree, I took a PE class not required by Big School just so I could earn it.  I carried a full load every semester since August 2012.  And I did it while I was a wife to Brian, who travels 40-60% of the time.  I did it while I was a mother to Lily, Darcy, Reagan and Joshua.  One solid year of this, I had 2 kids at home.  Not in preschool or at Mother's Day Out.  At home.  While I did school online.  I did it while we were building a house.

Brian and I earned that degree.  It freakin' means something.

He picked up the slack he gave me.  I could have never finished it if he hadn't been there urging me on.

In January, I knew it was time to apply to graduate, but I had not planned to walk.  Even though I had worked hard for 2 years, I didn't think it meant anything to walk.  My advisor urged me to walk.  I thought it was stupid.  Except...not really.  I wanted to do it, but thought, "it's junior college, who cares about that?"  Turns out, I do.  I thought people would think going through all the Pomp & Circumstance for an associate's degree was...silly.  And maybe it is.  But it can't be that silly.  There were hundreds and hundreds of graduates and the venue was COMPLETELY FULL of people cheering.

I cried when I walked out to take my seat.  I was trying not to which is probably why I wasn't a huge, sobbing mess.  But it had finally settled on me.  What I  had done had meaning to me.  I have 3 years left to complete my program.  Big School starts in the fall.  But for a moment in time, I took the opportunity to celebrate the completion of 2 years' worth of blood, sweat and tears.  And it meant something.