Reflections

Time for a visit to my psyche. I know, you're excited.

School has (hopefully) finally come to an end. Studying for and taking finals was a strange blast to a past college life I have left in more ways than one. It was insanely exhausting considering it was only two tests. Its surreal to think about the amount of work I used to put into classes full-time. This phase of my life wouldn't allow it. Chris and I were talking the other day and he said he thought the Lord knew me well enough to know full-time studenthood and pregnancy wouldn't go hand in hand for me. I think he's right. I'm quite the pregnancy zombie, and school is so important to me I always gave it 100%. The Lord spared me my sanity (and my GPA), for which I'm grateful.

I get asked a lot what my degree is in. The answer "sociology" is often met with confused looks and an awkward "that's cool". This stems from two things: no one knows what it is and no one knows what you do with it. Honestly, I don't know what you do with it either. You go to grad school or get a job where you use the skills you learned more than the actual discipline. Sociology was just something I fell in love with. Something I loved going to classes about. Maybe I chose with my heart more than my head, but I got an education I loved and enjoyed, and I'll take it. If I had the guts, when asked what I want to do I would say: "I want to educate my kids. I want kids who understand the world and appreciate the people in it. I want kids who are civilly minded and care about things outside of themselves. I want to change the world through the people that come out of my home." That's what my mom did. She has a lawyer, a businessman of some sort, and a pro baseball player coming out of her home. I want to be a mom like my mom.

But I don't have guts like that. I usually say I'm not sure, that I'm considering grad school at some point. It makes me look like a crazy lost person, but I can only explain my inner thoughts to so many people. I would like to get a graduate degree someday--maybe. In high school I wanted a masters and a PhD. Husband and family could come later, I felt. But I met Chris and he changed my world. And then this funny feeling started coming where I didn't want anything more than to have a house full of kids. That (the kid) didn't come as fast or easy as I thought (though I'm not saying it was especially hard--we are blessed). This fall I started to worry more than I should have worried. After some inner dealings with myself and many talks with a supportive (and handsome) husband, I started to think about other options. There was a 1 year masters degree here at UT that looked really great. And I did well at BYU, so felt like I could get in and maybe even get an assistantship. One week I printed off the application and started looking it over, thinking about who could write recommendation letters. That Saturday I woke up and peed on a piece of plastic. It was my last one. And I had decided not to keep them in stock anymore. Turns out it was the last one I needed. Looking back its remarkable to me that the Lord blessed us in that way right when I became content with whatever was meant to be. It doesn't work that way for everyone, but it worked that way for us, and I'm so grateful.

Anyway, back to school: BYU is full of experiences I'll never forget. Walking across campus in flip flops and capri pants on the first sunny day of the year. Naps on JFSB hallway floors and the rare open couch. Doing poorly on yet another Book of Mormon quiz and walking into the little garden in the middle of the JSB; I went searching for ways to pass my class, and left with a confirmation on a whole different subject: Chris was the one. Emotional breakdowns from stress in the bathroom stalls of the JFSB. The way my ring sparkled in the lights of the Clyde Building auditorium the day after I got engaged. My beloved job in the office of a biology professor. Intermural soccer with our dearest friends. The "death walk" to the Testing Center. The bells playing "Come, Come, Ye Saints."

All of this reflection makes me think about the little girl wiggling inside of me. Will I drop her off at BYU in 19 years? Will her ring sparkle in auditorium lights? Will stress make her cry in the JFSB bathrooms? Will she play kubb in the grass by the Wilk? Life feels so slow at times, but in hindsight, it passes too quickly.

Excuse all my seriousness. You know that feeling at the end of the semester where you don't know what to do with yourself? Finishing school completely is like a caffeinated version of that.

So I'll end with a funny story. This morning I was getting dressed in the dull light of our bedroom (we cover the window with a blanket for extra darkness~classy, I know). I pulled out some pants that were a size too big, and figured they'd be much more comfortable these days. I knew they were blue, but looked really dark blue. Like almost black. Chris agreed and I paired them with a blue sweater. In the light of the bedroom, Chris said I looked great. In the car in the sunlight, however, Chris said "those pants are more blue than I thought." He was right. I'm in head to toe blue. I look like a smurf. Neat.