Unpopular opinions, the incomplete list

What’s your hot take? What’s the thing that has no bearing on anything significant that you feel so strongly about that you’d write a whole post about it? Just for funsies, here’s my hot takes for tonight. 

(Disclaimer: and I wish I could splice in the Tamra Judge snippet: ITS MY OPINIONNN! 🤣🤣🤣🤣)

Here’s what, I think watching sports is crap. I like seeing men in uniforms. Duh. What’s not to love about asses in tight pants? That said, I love sporting event food. I mean the self serve unlimited fountain drinks at the Mariners game was top tier. But the game itself? Crap. 

The best thing in life besides time with your people, food, and sex has to be blankets. The more the better. Bonus points for cotton waffle blankets with the satin trim. 

Sleeping Beauty was the ultimate princess. She got to sleep (my favorite thing besides eating and talking), she wore a pink dress (the best color) and some dude comes and rescues her? Yes please. The only thing that would make her better would be if she was a brunette and chunky. 

I think that going to Disney at this point in my life seems awful. I no longer see the magic. I would rather sit in the waters of TCI mostly crunked with Jessica. 

I don’t care if I never watch another movie or tv show. They all run together at this point. Plus also my attention span is shit. Gee thanks adhd, you hobag.

McDonald’s is the best drive thru. The end. (That’s saying something with the amount of starbs I consume!)

Raisinettes are a top tier candy. Nutritious and delicious. (Troy will fight me on this one, but it’s fine…more for me!) 

Glitter is underrated and should be everywhere. 

Running sounds awful and I could never. 

The world’s sexiest man is definitely Will Ferrell. Funny, tall, blue eyes? Yes please. 

Salads and pickles are awful. 

That’s it for tonight. What’s your biggest unpopular opinion? 

Mama, part one of many

 If you ever met my mama you know. You know the ultimate blend of kindness, disappointed looks and head shakes, never ending snacks, hot meals, and Debbie cakes for everyone, the giver of unsolicited advice, aka “pearls of wisdom”, undying love and affection for all in her wake, and devoted mom, wife, nannie, friend, sister, and daughter. 

It was wild to me that at my 30th high school reunion, I had no less than 3-4 people come to me and tell me their memories of my mama, how she always had dinner for them, how she took us places, introduced friends to new restaurants, was our taxi driver, swim cheerleader, and snack giver. Not to mention how many Christmas ornaments she gifted to all of my friends that they still have to this day. She left an impression on all of my friends and classmates, that’s for sure. To think these folks still have ornaments on their trees from her blows my mind. 

My ma had many varied interests, all of which I had an occasion to either enjoy or participate in or both. She let me tag along to bingo, to the casinos (an experience for another blog), to quilt guild meetings, she let me help with painting and selling things, she tried to teach me to sew (I’m not patient enough), and she included me in helping those less fortunate in our small community as well as in other areas of Appomattox.

A lesser known skill and passion she had was helping adults learn to read. I never was privy to whom she helped but she sure was proud of that experience. She loved reading, she gave me loads of books (some of which I still use in my classroom to this day that the kids LOVE), and she read to me for as long as I would let her. She always had a secret stash of special books hidden in her closet for me that she picked up here and there, and where my true love of Boober Fraggle, Richard Scarry and the little monster, Dr Seuss, and Curious George started. Between her, my grannie, and my brother, I learned to read fairly quickly and learned how to read to others with gusto. At this point now, I’ve probably read hundreds if not thousands of books to kids (with the voices, duh) and hopefully instilled that love of reading and of books in thousands of kids all around Appomattox and Farmville. 

Towards the end of her short life on earth, she found a love of quilting. She jumped in headfirst and collected fabric, notions, copious amounts of thread and patterns, and converted my old bedroom into a sewing room. We spent many hours in there, cutting, pinning, piecing together quilts and blankets for everybody. She made receiving blankets just the right size in every pattern of flannel she could find for everyone we knew, if you had a baby coming, she was sure to make you enough blankies to get you through. The dentist got blankies for her babies, Chris and I got them for our kids, my best friend from college got them for her daughter who was the same age as my Felix, the neighbor’s grandkids got them too. That didn’t include the plethora of quilts she made. I have tons of them. She made them for me, for Felix, they made some together, she helped others finish quilts (which either Felix or I have), she did quilt square trades at the quilters guild meetings, she donated some, and the absolute most gorgeous one she ever made was one she did for my dad. She was sick with cancer at the time but pushed through to make him the most gorgeous, complicated mariners compass quilt. It was a pattern just for him, the boater, the fisherman. It was perfection. She got too sick to finish it, but her best friend came in, finished it, and gave it to dad for her. It’s a priceless piece that I keep on my bed every single day. Her quilts were a bit of her legacy. Not as much as her kindness, but they go hand in hand, obviously. 

For now, I’m refusing to talk the C word or the absolute travesty that is her life that was gone too soon for us or anyone who knew her. Instead, I will sift through my memory bank for the good so I’m not so fucking resentful of the time I haven’t gotten in the last 16 years. This was part one of many that I plan to write as a tribute to her, for my son to have as a memory book of her, which honestly is why I started writing to begin with in some ways, and for me to not dwell in the bad but remember the amazing soul she was. 

If I haven’t told you lately, cherish your mama, even through the flaws, as much as you possibly can. Maybe your mama is really your memaw, your auntie, your adopted mom, your bonus mom, your foster mom. Anyone who had a hand in raising you should be cherished as much as you can based on the experiences you’ve shared. I long for more days with my ma. Go love on yours and think of me, and everyone else in your life doing it without the presence of their mama. 

And as always, love you, mean it. Thank you for going on this journey with me. 💜💜

26 Bucket List

​I love a bucket list. I’ve written about it before, but as with most things I like to revisit the idea. In the new year, in lieu of resolutions, I make bucket lists of the shit I wanna do, things I want to see, food I want to eat. If I do it all, cool. If I miss something, I just add it to the next list. 

Let’s go: 

• I want to see: more waterfalls (especially Crabtree Falls), the beach, the mountains, more birds, sunsets, sunrises, new coastlines, new flowers
• I want to eat: Anything from Gordon Ramsey, more: cheese, wine, fried artichokes; new cuisines—African especially; I want to try new things in general. Oh, and lots of bread in every form. Oh, one more: I have a hankering for almond princess cake. 
• I’d like to go: yes. Just yes. That said, I want to go to: the Jefferson Pools, The Homestead, Maine, Vermont, to see Javi and Laurie, OBX, somewhere tropical with Jessica, at least one trip to 151 for wine, cider, and a visit to Belties. 
• Time: more time with: Felix, Troy, Chris & Fam, friends. More coffee dates, more hikes. More walks. 
• A trip to the arcade with Matt
• A new VA state park (Highlands?)
• A concert 
• Try a new class at Vibe Studio
• Walk a 5K
• Complete at least 100 classes in a year at Vibe
• Learn a new thing: maybe an art class? Stained glass? Gel plate printing? How to crush anxiety? 
• Even more selfies. That funeral board doesn’t populate itself. 

It seems like a lot to put in one list, but I’ve got 365 days to work with. The way I see it, this is a starting point. If you had to make a list, what would it have on it? 

I haven’t said it in a hot minute that because I haven’t written or posted anything in forever, but: 

Love you. Mean it. 💜💜

It is what it is…or is it really?

​It is what it is…or is it?

“It is what it is sissy.” The big quote from our Christmas 2025. Add to it the uncle Joe hand toss up and shrug and it solidified the way our family has come to rationalize everything since August 2009. 

Mom died? It is what it is. We couldn’t fix it. 

Dad detached? It is what it is. He’s gonna do what he wants to do.

Things feel unfair? It is what it is. 

Can’t fix what ails you? Is what it is. 

You sad? Depressed? Anxious? Is what it is. 

Something became glaringly obvious  in our talks on Christmas Eve. People (read: us. And more particularly me) who say this phrase have no way or want to explain their hurt, pain, frustration, or loss. We feel a world of helplessness. We feel abandonment. We feel a loss of control. Our center is gone. Our life before mom died is gone. Our normal is gone. In that, we have struggled to find what we are now. For me, I’m mad. Detached. Hurt. Endlessly depressed; especially at this time of the year.  

Personally, I have come to despise Christmas. I am torn into bits. I pretend. A lot. A really lot. I used to love it. Now I feel guilt. Massive guilt. I should love this shit. I should love decorations, lights, music, being together. I shouldn’t have this massive resentment. But I do. And to top it off, I have massive guilt that I can’t fully enjoy it like all these people who make Christmas their personality for several months. I don’t want to disappoint. I don’t want to be called a grinch and or a Scrooge. Instead I try to participate in hopes it will help, change my mind, make me love it. I still enjoy giving gifts. But I love that all year. I love Christmas lights, but my joy in it is tempered by my desperation for it to be the way it was. It never will be. 

This goes beyond the season. The “it is what it is” infiltrates everything. Can’t explain it? Is what it is. Someone ghosts you? Is what it is. 

But it’s bullshit. It hurts. You’re embarrassed. You are disappointed. Yet you don’t want to say that because…well, because it’s easier than facing it or confronting the ones who did the hurting. I personally find every reason on their side to rationalize the behavior. Their choice. Then I’m even more sad. So I’m hurting twice or thrice. Or in my case, every time I think about it. Which is all the time. I mean, if you didn’t know I was an over thinker you’ve missed one of my top five personality flaws. (And that’s on you for once.) 

So what do you do? If you know me, the things that people, especially people around here say to do do me no good. (I almost said little to no good because I’m me and didn’t want to upset anyone with my obvious religious non affiliation). The thoughts and prayers ain’t gonna do it for me. 

Unless I start getting some real DGAF anytime soon, I’m not calling people and telling him what I want to tell him. I’m not going to text people and tell them how they hurt or disappointed me or disrespected my kid. I’ve done that once before and it changed absolutely nothing except exacerbate my anxiety and amplify their hatefire for me. 

The doc last week said I didn’t need more meds. I think she a liar but whatever. Maybe I need to go back to therapy. Does a 2 hour convo with my two unofficial therapists at Starbs count? I’m running out of viable options here. 

So legit “it is what it is?” Good lord I hate it here. 

what makes you, you?

i have always had a natural curiosity about most everything. science, plants, animals, rocks, buildings, cars, music, movement,  people. while i understand most things on a fairly high level, people continue to be the topic that both fascinates me yet the understanding eludes me. i understand the tenets of being human: emotional, physical needs; growth, development. but what i'm really interested in knowing more is this--how is it that we are all the same species of animal, have the same needs,  look so similar, live in the same place, yet are so vastly different? legit, what makes you, YOU? 

i think about kids in my classroom. i see over 600 kids a week. you can't put any two kids in the same group or category unless they are biological siblings. no two kids have grown up the same; their families work differently, are made up of different people with different experiences, education, personalities, trauma, joys. there aren't two kids who celebrate the same way at home, live in the same kind of dwelling in the same area of the county, have parents together or divorced, same socio-economic status, education.  how is it that we all seem the same, yet obviously are not? i tell them all the time that their experiences are theirs and are all different and that is ok. (because it is.)

i know there's books and research about this that have already been done. i don't want to read about other people's insights. i'd like to explore it myself and offer my own thoughts. 

i think, or i propose rather, that each way you can categorize groups of people has a certain set of shared values or experiences that shape who they become. this may be some researcher's work already, idk, but it is the closest i can come to understanding it in my own terms. of course there is always an outlier. someone who for whatever reason is the break or kink in the chain, if you will. 

the study of sociology tells us that human beings are inherently comforted by sameness, routine, and known expectations. i can't quote the information, because it was over 25 years ago that i took that class and learned that shit. but we all know it to be a commonality betwixt humans. this is something that is shared by many groups within a society; it's something that binds us. 

people can be sorted by many means and these can be broken into a spectrum as well. it's what really binds us and creates these unique individuals that roam our great planet. i think of it as a sliding scale really--to what degree you identify with some of these helps you to relate more to one group over another. that said, i think that people can be sorted thusly: 

• age/generation
• gender
• race
• socioeconomic status
• family structure
• marital status
• education
• religion
• health
• hometowns/places you grew up
• trauma/loss
• politics
• sexuality

a lot of these overlap and circle back to one another. there is not one individual that matches exactly to another. there are ones who are extremely close, yet are divergent.

think about the small town grown, white, gen x female, with at least a bachelor's degree, who is generally healthy, who grew up with both parents, siblings,  modest means with no strong religious background. then compare that person to someone who has all of those same attributes, but identifies as an evangelical christian. those two people are inherently very different.  the perceived values of those two households changes everything for that person. not change bad or good per se, but it definitely has some bearing on how they will proceed through life. how those two people will process and handle stress, trauma, joy, and life will be different, based solely on their upbringing. 

you could also consider the two groups again with the same criterion and add another: race. two people, raised very similarly, but the biggest difference being race. i don't know from personal experience, but i know enough from watching my friends and acquaintances and considering the history of forever that people of different races have inherently different challenges. you can be the same all the way around, but as soon as you look at one white person next to a black person, you know that one of those people struggled more to get to the same exact place. that forever changed that person and made them who they are. if you can't see that as a human being, you really need to take a long hard look at what is right fucking in front of you. 

we call it privilege.

troy and i talk about it all the time, especially in our current climate. he knows that he is in the ultimate privileged group: white, cisgendered men. who questions educated, white, cisgender, heterosexual men? nobody. therein lies the problem. the difference for him is that he knows his privilege. he understands that his life is inherently easier than our son's life. our son, who is obviously white and educated, is trans. he uses different pronouns. he loves a little differently. he has friends all over the gender and sexuality spectrum. he is at a disadvantage, just based on being himself. can you imagine if he was black, poor, uneducated, with no family in a small town? i would hate to see what would happen to a kid trapped in that situation.

this is quite the uncomfortable conversation for the majority of people to have. but it is a needed one, especially when every news story talks about a minority group being stripped of protections, benefits, or rights. it is one of the things that led me down the rabbit hole of this whole post. honestly, i could do several posts on the subject. 

i have lots of questions and wonderments: 

• how is it that a family can have three siblings who land in such totally different places in terms of education, religion or political affiliation?
• how is it that one kid from a poor family with no education find their way into college and particularly into prestigious fields?
• how is it that one kid from a wealthy family can become much like their parents while a different kid from the same family abandons that particular lifestyle for a different one? 
• how do families find their traditions? how do families break with tradition?
• how do people find their way into fringe groups that tend to be considered taboo but are part of human nature?

my hope is to explore that more and write my thoughts as i move along. to say i'm fascinated by people and their foundations is an understatement. i would love to do more research on families i know and how those folks got to where they are. 

if you ever want to talk about it, holla at your girl. 

until next time, love you, mean it. 💙💙💙💙

dear blue dot friends

 hi blue dots. 

how are you? are you ok? are you taking time for you? are you avoiding the news? 

i know it's hard right now. i know that it feels like the upside down. like we are living in gilead. nothing makes sense. and the parts that do make sense are few and far between. it's hard to know what is real and what is a show for the news outlets to blow up. things seem to be moving so fast that it is hard to keep up. 

here's what i want you to think about: while this is a ridiculously scary time, you have to think about what is in your control. the only thing in your control as of the moment is you, and how you respond to this litany of insanity. do you soak up every news story, every tiktok, every facebook post? do you let that consume you? do you pick and choose what is worth reading or watching? i know that has become my strategy. 

i told troy recently that i don't want the cheeto circus master to become our only topic of conversation. i don't want to post on fb to vent my frustration. what good does that do? you're really just perpetuating the stress in your life over this little man who has nothing to show for his first two weeks except chaos. it doesn't deserve our attention. every time someone comes to me with a "can you believe?????" statement i take a deep breath and remind them that this is temporary. this level of chaos isn't sustainable for cheeto man or anyone else for that matter. it will calm down. 

so now what? little blue dots, we are a team. we have to support each other, sure. but do we need to overdo the news cycle? do we need to know every insane thing done on capitol hill? nope. we don't. 

here's what we do need: the sparkles, the glimmers, the hope. we celebrate each other. we raise up our marginalized communities. we throw our discretionary funds to queer and black makers. we consume their online content. 

i find myself forever looking for the good. sometimes it shows itself to me, sometimes i set forth to look for it. the past few mornings, it's been sunrises. what's not to love about cotton candy skies? i refuse to spend my time being outraged at every story. instead, i put that energy into finding the good. the kid with the glittery nails. the lady at the walmarts with the fancy hair. the dad-spotting at home depot. all the birds. all the dancing. 

the negativity that always surrounds us will always be there. the degree to which you let that get to you is totally up to you. my advice to all my blue dot friends is this: limit your media consumption. you can be as mad as you want to be about our current situation, but at the end of the day, mad doesn't solve any problems, it just eats away at you. and we, little blue dot friends, we are the epitome of hope. remember that was all 2008 was about. we need to band together in positivity and hope. at the end of the day, that will be what binds us, friends. 

go forth and find some glimmers my loves. then tell me all about it. 

love you, mean it. 

what i got wrong, what i get right: teacher edition

i'll be the first to say that i am definitely not a perfect teacher. i never have been, nor will i ever be. that said, i've learned a lot in 26 years. let's discuss, shall we? 

you can't right wrongs until you've done them and reflected, so let's start there. you know better, you do better. i've gotten so much wrong about being an educator. 

first wrong: content over kids. 

i'm not sure when education became more about scores, papers, and performance and less about kids. kids should be our focus. content comes after. i was always trying to make sure kids got the content i thought they needed to know. there was always paperwork, score sheets, data points, and progress monitoring to do. there is a place for that, sure. we have to make sure kids can read, write, and add. i get that. here's where i went wrong: i had a first grader one year. she was a great kid. she struggled a little, but nothing we couldn't handle. what haunts me is the fact that i never noticed her stimming behavior until the last nine weeks. how did i miss that? it's embarrassing. i was so consumed by teaching, classroom management, and paperwork that i missed a big thing for this super sweet kid.  i knew then i needed to make a change. 

second wrong: behavior

when i started teaching i was fully invested in token economies. we did the classroom store. it was draining. it did nothing to help with behavior. since then, i have had clip charts, point giveaways, class dojo, you name it. i gasped in horror when we were told to stop with clip charts. i didn't know what to do with kids who misbehaved, and i can't say that i really know much more now than i did then, except that i hate clip charts and daily behavior charts. for me, it was more trouble than it was worth. i had to keep up with a constant stream of "what did my kid do to get yellow/red?" it wasn't worth it for anyone. 

third wrong: eating in the teacher's lounge

now that i stay in my room 90% of the day, i miss 100% of the drama. now i don't hear all the wrongs of the school. all of the "can you believe that..." talk. i don't hear people and their constant complaining. i don't hear all the bad stories about kids. (i still hear some, but not at the level, you know?) so if i don't hear the complaining, i don't complain myself. and i certainly don't complain to the wrong people. i love educators, but we a gossipy bunch. it's so much easier to love your work, kids, coworkers when you don't have to hear the constant bitching. 

i know there's more wrongs. maybe i will write about more later. i want to get to the good stuff. 

what i get right... here's the meat of what i've been thinking about recently. this is the good good.

first right: greeting kids at the door

i used to think this was so stupid. legit. i had stuff to do!!! folders to check, email to read, stuff to get ready. what a dumbass i was. some kids look forward to seeing you so much. you are their safe place. they adore you. and if you're not at the door anxiously awaiting their arrival? it's a gut punch to a kid. 

now greeting kids is my superpower!! i absolutely adore seeing every kid every morning. we dance, we laugh, we share outfits, nails, missing teeth. it's a wild 20 minutes every day but i LOVE it. i get to know all 600 kids in those 20 minutes. i get to love on all of those babies. i get to hear their triumphs and grievances. it is my absolute joy and privilege and my favorite part of the day. 

second right: relationships

relationships are everything. it doesn't matter if you are young or old, you work better for someone you know and who knows you. if you think your boss or teacher likes you and they know at least a little about you, you will move mountains for them. kids love to know their teachers. they need that connection to function at school. if they think their teachers don't like them they hurt, and hurt kids don't learn as well or work well for you. 

building relationships is fairly simple for me. meet kids where they are. learn about them. let them learn about you. compliment everything. notice as much about them as you can. HAVE FUN. now, i realize i am in a unique situation. i see over 600 kids a week. i don't have the stress of classroom teachers. but the joy of that is i can use the time i would spend on paperwork learning about kids and finding ways to make over them. since that is my absolute dream scenario, i am free to be who i am and want to be with these kiddos. i get to be the fun auntie. i get to be what they need. i have no fear and that is the best gift you can give a teacher or kid for that matter. 

third right: following your joy

not everyone gets to find their joy in a career. i came upon my happy place almost by accident. i never thought that teaching critical thinking, engineering, and creativity would be my jam. i am the daughter of an engineer, but that does not an engineer make. i tried learning drafting in high school which was a fail, but i liked it. that said, i wouldn't say that anything technical would be my path. i wouldn't say that what i do is in any way technical--it's more foundational in nature. i get to lay the groundwork for kids to be amazing thinkers, persistent in their pursuits, creative problem solvers, and they get to have fun while doing it. 

i found this joy called stem education when i was getting bored and sick of the regular classroom. in learning the process and how to incorporate stem, i regained the passion i had for education again. i was beyond lucky to have a supportive principal who let me do what i wanted: afterschool clubs, summer programs, build a lab, buy copious amounts of stuff, and make lots of mistakes. i can honestly say that this is my dream job. i get all the rewards of being a teacher but almost zero stress. having said that, i think that over 20 years in the classroom gives me the privilege of this position, and i deserve it based on the hard work i put into it. 

that said, you have to follow your joy. if you don't, you have no one to blame for your unhappiness but yourself. 

all in all, friends, i am lucky to be an educator. it's not a high paying pursuit. it's not stress free. i would argue that it is one of the most disrespected professions in our country. however, i am 26 years in and love it more than i ever have. i'm lucky that i get to be the safe place to over 600 kids a day. i'm lucky that i get to do the one job in the school that is the most fun ever. i'm lucky to have long lasting relationships with my students. my babies. 

this career of mine hasn't always been easy. i had a lot of "i wanna quit" moments. i've had frustrations. but the joy. the joy joy joy, my loves. it's what brings me back over and over. the babies. their successes, failures, determination, and just plain preciousness. if you're lucky, you get this opportunity, this joy. i plan on holding on to it for a good long while. 

love you, mean it. 💙💙