the day that hell froze over

yep, that's the 12th MAN on my BROTHER's shirt!! whoop.

my brother could not be more of an obnoxious texas longhorn fan. the boy wore burnt orange his entire childhood. it is difficult for me to find a photo of the two of us from age 2 to 20 without him putting his "horns" up in the picture.


when i transferred to A&M he gave me all kinds of grief. still does. worse than my father, who actually attended and graduated from ut-austin. (this decrease in animosity on my dad's part may have something to do with the difference of public and private school tuition.)


that punk brother of mine used to leave me voice messages while i was at A&M...
"hey jib bo betsy lou this is farmer ted. just calling to see how them cows were and if you gots your overalls on today or not. give them chickens my love." just hilarious.


and then, the day came when he wore maroon. when i graduated? nope. when he came to visit in washington? nope. no, only when an aggie win would help TCU get a bid to the national championship did my midget put on the maroon and white.


whatever, the reason, it didn't matter. he may be six feet tall and obnoxious, but he's still my brother. i love him...and he loves the aggies. GIG EM!!!

life is...

dear world wide web,

have we met?

it has been so long since we have last spoken that sometimes it is as if i do not know you.

but this is what i do know: life - is a beautiful mess. life is one big chance. life is constant change. life is a risk. life is leap of faith. life is faith.

life is love. life is lonely. life is laughter, hurt, pain, confusion, miraculous.

life is... well, i know a lot about life. but there is a LOT that i don't know about life. for me, life is a rollercoaster of emotions and events, highs and lows, heartbreaks and joys beyond compare.

somedays i long for a life sitting on a wooden dock,with barefeet, overlooking a quiet lake, somewhere a few miles outside of a quiet town, full of quiet - but not boring - people. far away from glossy magazines, health care debates, shiny cars, and bright lights. but most days, i am at peace with my life, fully satisifed knowing that a higher power has brought me to this, and will get me through, this life.

life of late is full of antibacterial soap, potty accidents, chattering children, and alphabet songs. when i'm not at work, i am one step behind in work emails and half-marathon training. my life is full of long distance friendships, occasional dinner dates, church gatherings, runs through the park, and the occasional weekday visit with my mom and the dog.

i don't want to get started on the break-up of jon and kate of the famous tv show "jon and kate plus eight," but lately the tagline for their show has been bouncing around my head. they talk of their 8 children, (and by no means am i comparing my small, selfish life to theirs - they are far busier, without question) but they talk of their 8 children and then pictures of those children flash on the screen and jon & kate's voices say: "it may be a crazy life, but this is our life."

and i wonder: how much do we actively take charge of the life we have been given? granted, as Christians, we would be more correct to say "this is a crazy life. but this is God's life" because we are dedicating our lives to Christ... even still - how often do we boldly claim to love, to be responsible for, to be thankful for, our lives?

that dock near the lake on a sunny day sounds really great sometimes. but for now, i acknowledge my life is a mess running in three thousand directions. but it is the life God has given me, and it is such a life!

thank you for sharing it with me, world wide web & friends. i hope to be back to visit more often.

love,
courtney

and i'm back...

The sun was shining and the sky a vibrant bright blue when I opened the door of our elementary school. I propped it open and nineteen three year old children tottered out after me – most of them with their hands behind their back and a “bubble” in their mouth, our procedure for walking in line. I watched them skurry past me, bound for the swings, slides, and other fun obstacles on our playground, and I realized: these are my babies. After thirteen weeks with these kids, leaving them before the end of the year would be as painful as chopping off my left arm. Their imaginations, sense of adventure, and genuine love for everyone around them. Their smiles, laughter, and “monster” faces. The sound of their voices as we review letters and numbers. It would be too much to do anything but finish the year with these rowdy, rambunctious little people.

“Miss Robinson, I’m going to catch you!” Milian shouted on the playground, his legs in a position that made him look like a tiny track star on the starting block. It was at that moment that I realized… You have already caught me. Milian, you and the thirty six others, have caught me. Sometimes it feels wonderful, like when seven of them are hugging me at once and telling me they love my shoes, my nose, my hair…anything. Sometimes it feels as if I have been caught, in a net, and I’m thrashing to get out – days when things are tense between myself and my co-teacher, when I’m putting on gloves and wiping up urine in the bathroom, when I’m trying to reason with a toddler who really just wants to hit other kids and scream in my face but I can’t send him home so I’ve just got to deal with it.

Either way, I joined TFA at the end of the day to love on kids, regardless of what they achieve academically. So, here we are, doing just that. It doesn’t ultimately matter if my kids are behind academically at the end of the year – they can and probably will catch up in PreK4, which is a full day program at our school. But, what matters, is if they learned routines. If together we sparked a lifelong love of school and learning. What matters at the end of the day is if they know they matter – if not to their families, than to me. To each other. To the world.

“Maestra!!!! I’m going to catch you.”

Well, my lovebug, it turns out you already have.