round 4 from the archives, hug your moms

**Originally posted May 18, 2015.

Musings from Saturday night:

My mom just left Houston. Freddie and I stopped for groceries. Now we're back and he's asleep on the couch. From the window I can see the sun setting over a cityscape. I'm up "high," six stories from the bayou, and as I look out at the big buildings and interstates I'm thinking...

holy poop, we moved. 

Transitioning is a silly thing to do. You get worked up, anxious, excited, worried, excited again, worried again, and all with a touch of fear. Sometimes it feels like time will never ever speed up, but then all of a sudden you blink and the time has passed. Suddenly you're in Houston, your mom is gone, and it hits you like a ton of bricks: you have transitioned. Successfully. It happened. You survived. The sun is setting. Tomorrow is another day. Shoot, in just a few days it'll be Christmas, I'm sure!

But for now let's go back to the mom leaving part and the transitioning part. I could not have done any of this transitioning without my mother. Well excuse me, that is a lie. Technically I could have done all of it, but it would not have been half as graceful or fun without my mother. And really, what is the point of living if it's not to do things with grace and enjoyment (and with your mom)?

My mom left behind her work, her dad, my dad, my sister, and her precious puppies to drive across the country with/for me. 

Then she drank with me on Bourbon Street.

Then she ate beignets with me.

Then she helped me unpack and decorate every inch of our new apartment.

Then she studied a map of Houston with me so we could act like we knew what the ham sandwich is going on in this city. 

Even when we said IKEA was east of the city when the map claimed it was west...

Then she got a tattoo with me because why not? Finding a tattoo parlor in a new city is just as important as finding a grocery store. 

Then she left.

And then I was left thinking, Dayum, I am really lucky when it comes to the mom department. Double dayum, am I going to be that rockstar of a mom/person some day?

Obvi, it's in my blood and all. Wink.

Hmmm, I guess what I'm trying to say is go hug your mom. Right now. Do it. Hug your mom or your dad or your friend or anyone who is amazing towards you. If you learn anything from this space of mine, learn that Mother's Day is every day and you should shower those you love with love and attention every day. Especially on the days when your mom drinks Hurricanes with you in NOLA. And the days she says Sure! Let's get a tattoo! And the days she drops everything to help you transition.

The End. 

from the archives: this time last year...

***Originally posted on April 24, 2015.

I had a whole post written (and by written I mean I had it planned in my head) for today about all my favorite Charleston things and places. This means mostly a post talking about all the food I love to eat here. Fatty status. A Charleston heavy (get it?) post would be rather fitting for today since it is my last Friday in Charleston.

Cue the freaking out face emoji(s).

But then this week happened and Dear Lawd, this week has been so humbling. Wonderful? Bittersweet? With a pinch of sadness? And a spoonful of happiness? I can't even put into words what this week has been like which means I should definitely not try to write a blog about the week since blogs need words.

#oops

You see, I teach (roughly) around 150 kids a week. That's a lot of kids in not a lot of days <<<<my math skills are off the charts amazing. The youngest kids I teach are still wearing diapers or just being potty trained and they go all the way up to the high schooler who are just figuring out how to drive and what it's like to juggle obscene amounts of homework with obscene amounts of rehearsals with obscene amounts of social calendar appointments. 

This week I have had to say goodbye to these 150 kiddos. There's been a lot of See you later! And Of course, come visit me in Texas! And Yes, you can definitely ride in my moving truck and come with me! And even some Thanks for your mom's cell phone #, can't wait to FaceTime you! (side note: since when do four year olds know all about FaceTime?! Feeling so hashtag old these days).

I've been given flowers and the best handmade cards and gifts and other goodies, and it's all been so sweet and completely overwhelming, but the best thing I've been given? 

All the cheek kisses. All the second and third and fourth "last" hugs. The high fives. The We have to take a selfie so I never forget you! The fifth and sixth and seventh "last" hugs. The reassurance that what I've been doing for the past 3.5 years has been something.

Teaching dance is in no way seen as a job of importance and some days (a lot of days recently) it has felt like that. Unimportant. But knowing that I've made a difference, no matter how minuscule, in even one little student's life makes me want to saute and jump for joy. Plies are important, people, okay?

I come home at night and just collapse on the couch. From the couch I can look to my right and see all the pretty flowers perched on the empty table. I can see the stack of cards on the kitchen counter--the cards that I really need to go ahead and pack, but I just want to leave them out a little longer so I can read through them one (or three) more times.

I am so, so excited to begin this new chapter of our lives, but Texas you betta' not mess with ME. I'm leaving behind some precious people. 

Now please, you may go ahead back to your regularly scheduled, non-sappy, and mostly happy Friday activities.