hey mama.

It is difficult to put into words the thanks I feel for my mother on this Mother's Day, so in an effort to commemorate her, and the relationship that has developed between us over the years, I want to share some of my favorite memories.

1. It was my 13th birthday. I was in seventh grade, and my mom was working in the lunch room. It was always a treat when one of your parents worked in the lunch room because it meant that you got free "seconds" on anything that was for lunch, as well as free ice cream if you wanted it. I was waiting for my mom to come find me and ask for my seconds preference, when she came out of the kitchen carrying a HUGE cake, all my best friends by her side, and the cafeteria sang "Happy Birthday" to me. It is still my favorite birthday.

2. When Kathleen and I were little, it was always a treat when my mom would wash our hair in the kitchen sink. We were small enough to lay on the kitchen counter, with our heads over the sink, and she would rub our scalps, while singing "Winnie the Pooh". I can still picture it in my mind so clearly, as if I were six years old yesterday.

3. When my dad would travel, my mom would let Kathleen and I sleep in her bed with her. I remember one time specifically, Kathleen had fallen asleep right as her head hit the pillow, but I was struggling to fall asleep. I missed my dad, and I was on the opposite side of the bed as my mom (Kathleen was between us). My mom, with her unmatched motherly instincts, slipped her hand under Kathleen's pillow, and held mine. A simple gesture, but I will never forget it.

4. When I was in fourth or fifth grade, I had a friend who found it entertaining to make fun of me. Nothing traumatizing, but just the type of stuff that happens between girls who are uncomfortable in their own skin, and therefore like to tease out of the flaws of their "friends". Anyways, I came home every night upset and not wanting to go to bed, because that meant I would have to get up and go to school the next day. My mom wasn't going to let this stand. She confronted the mother of the other girl, who told my mom that her daughter came home just as upset as I was. Instead of yelling at this women and accusing her, my mom sat me down and told me that my friend felt just as bad about the things I said to her. I take that lesson seriously, and have ever since.

5. As a little girl, I was impossible when it came to doing my hair. If I could spot a single "bump" in my hair, I made sure my mom knew about it. What did she do? She fixed it EVERY time, until I was happy. And boy, did I look cute.

6. My senior year of high school, my mom took me to Mexico for my spring break. It was a mother-daughter trip that I will remember forever. What I will remember most, is how freaked out we were when our taxi was taking us through random, not-so-safe streets, and how she caught random guys talking about how I could have their babies. We spent that vacation sunbathing, reading, eating, shopping, and laughing.

7. I was really good friends with this boy named Andrew when I was younger. Our parents were good friends too. One day, Andrew had come over to play at my house and when his dad came to pick Andrew up to go home, he asked his dad if I could spend the night, to which his father answered "Maybe when your older." My mom simply looked at him and they both broke out into laughter. I enjoy hearing my mom tell this story to this day.

I could honestly add so many more memories to this list about the times my mom was there for me when I felt like no one else was, or the times she would yell at Kathleen and I to "GO TO BED" because we kept everyone up giggling late into the night, or the hours she spent piecing together the perfect Christmas photo, or how she would cart me to all of my sporting events and end up being the team mom for just about every team I found myself on.

Our moms are such a significant part of who we are. We are so deeply connected to them, in ways that are beyond simple comprehension, but make complete sense. I will forever be indebted to my mom, who has given so much to be what I need her to be.

I love you mom. Happy Mother's Day!

trauma.

I had quite a traumatic experience this past weekend. First, a warning to some readers: you may not find this traumatic whatsoever, you may simply roll your eyes. To you, you couldn't possibly understand until it is you.

I have five fish. Two of them are larger fish, Burt and Ernie, and three smaller, very bright fish, Schoober, JuJu, and Thomas. These five fish have been my companions in my single, one bedroom apartment. They are the ones I greet when I come home from work, they're the ones I say goodbye to when leaving. I talk to them as if they could understand a word that I said (and yes, I still believe they can).

Anyways, on to the traumatic experience...

Kyle and I took Saturday evening to clean the fish tank, the home of my sweet companions. After a trip to Petco, which I thought would consist of me walking in, getting new filter cartridges, paying and walking out, it instead consisted of me walking in, searching for the appropriate Petco name brand filter cartridges, asking an employee when I could find them, and the employee telling me they don't actually sell replacement cartridges. So, in other words, Petco puts their name on this fish tank that comes with a filter, but they personally do not sell the exact replacement filters for their own brand. Yeah, makes a whole lot of sense. So, after spending money on a brand new filter and replacements for that filter, my night had already taken a turn for the worse. But wait, that isn't the traumatic part.

I was assigned to the job of transferring the little fishies from the dirty tank to a pot filled with water. I had four of the five fish into the pot, and little Thomas was doing everything he could to avoid being caught. Now, in order to fully understand this, it is important to understand just how small Thomas is. He is tiny, probably one of the smallest fish I have seen. Anyways, while trying to capture him, I accidentally killed him. I do not want to go into details but it was the very first time that I actually felt truly responsible for the death of something. It was horrible.

You think that's the end, right? I wish...

I go to check on the four remaining fish, and my other two little ones, Schoober and JuJu are dead. I forgot to put the necessary drops into the water that clear it of any harmful things to the fish, that and I think the water was a little warm.

So now, I'm left with just Burt and Ernie and a brand new filter. I'm not really sure why I got so upset over silly little fish, but I think it had something to do with the companionship. They were my little babies.

I'm in mourning and I don't like it.

luck of the irish.

Yesterday I got an email, the type of email you hope to never receive. Normally you would get this type of news via frantic telephone call, but my mother knew that I was more likely to receive an email while at work.

My baby sister got into a really bad car accident. We are beyond euphemisms. Apparently, Karley was attempting to avoid a trash can that had rolled into the road and in an attempt to regain the correct position on the road, she lost control, and the car was totaled.

My stomach is still in knots, picturing my sweet, little sister who I remember in those Tweety Bird khaki pants with permanently stained knees, that she refused to take off, even in the heart of summer. l remember my bleach-blonde tomboy, who would pitch softballs at the side of our house until

my mom got tired of hearing the ball slam against the garage. I remember my little kindergardener who dressed up as a blueberry for Halloween because it was her absolute favorite food.

Thinking of this sweet girl in a scarier situation then I have ever found myself in, honestly breaks my heart. Very seldom do our heart physically ache, but I can't seem to get this feeling to go away.

I feel so fortunate. After Kathleen's accident last winter, and now Karley's this week, I feel incredibly lucky on this St. Patrick's day, to have both of my sisters. I will forever believe in the luck of the Irish...however little Irish I have in me.

loving life.

How do we make it through life? There are so many challenges, so many disappointments, and so much deceit. We see it everywhere, we encounter it almost daily, and yet I can still pass people who have a huge smile on their face.

Life is funny thing. It's something we live, something we love, something we hate, but more than anything, it's something we cannot fully begin to understand. We live for the moments that make us smile, and leave us thankful for what we have. My week, along with this weekend, was made up of those moments.

Friday afternoon reminded me of the little rewards that come along with being a teacher. I had a student open up to me. I could tell he was having a rough day, and asked him if everything was okay. He said he was struggling, and then asked if I could talk more with him the next period. Fortunately, it was my planning period, so I was able to have a conversation with him. He continued to confess some of the struggles he is dealing with, but the beautiful thing about our conversation was how much more I knew and understood him.

I can honestly say that I have never felt like my life has had more purpose, than it did during that conversation. High schoolers are an entirely different population of people. They are dealing with so many more issues than we give them credit for, and in knowing that, it becomes easier to fathom the things they do. They are craving direction, and I was happy to be able to provide that for just one of my students.

That feeling was enough to keep me smiling all throughout my weekend, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that the good times just kept

coming. If you know me, you've probably guessed that I got to spend a weekend with Kyle. You'd think that now, because I live so close to him, that I would be use to spending time with him, that it is a routine. However, it is quite on the contrary. We still treasure our time together. The past two weekends we've spent apart, for different reasons, but we finally had the opportunity to just enjoy one another again. Two date nights, some delicious food, and equally fantastic movies, provided the two of us with the means we needed to thoroughly enjoy a relaxing couple of days. This teaching business is exhausting, so you've got to have those moments, those days, where you can just be yourself and enjoy it.

Counting down the days until Spring Break, feeling strangely odd about still seeking the break. I guess that's the beauty of my profession, I still get to look forward to it.