Spring is springing!

I say this because I saw my first redbud tree in bloom!

I saw two of them blooming like crazy as I drove to work this morning which made me aware of other signs of Spring that I saw; jonquils, little yellow faces searching for the sunshine and a bit of purple crocus poking up, I even saw one tulip tree in bloom. I have yet to see any dogwoods or forsythia, or the truest evidence of Spring, robin birds. But it’s early still so I’m practicing my patience as I wait for these proclaimers of Spring.

This time of year I begin to notice the gorgeous pink blossoms and find myself getting excited because I know soon I’ll see the white of dogwoods beginning to blossom and after that, forsythia, wild and reaching blooming in that gorgeous riot of yellow.

I grew up in a yard filled with hydrangeas and azaleas and sweet bud trees, (if these have a real name I don’t know what it is) forsythia, mock orange and an apple tree. Spring was the most delicious smelling, color-filled adventure you ever experienced!

Spring is the season of my birth, perhaps that’s why I have such an affinity for it. Though it is not my “favorite” season, there are things about Spring that are truly a part of me, these blooming trees and plants and of course, the robins.
My mom and I always used to point out the “first” robin of Spring, when I was a little girl, oftentimes we would be together when this happened…as time went on and we lived twenty minutes away from each other it might be a phone call or if we were really fortunate we might be together. Seventeen years ago when she moved from Virginia to Florida, it was always a phone call, and they came so much sooner than ever before! Only once in all that time did I call the first robin before she did, and I had just moved from Virginia to South Carolina.
What can we take from this? Virginia robins are SLACKERS!

Anyway, the redbuds are blooming here in SC which means all the others are soon to follow, I wait with baited breath to see the dogwoods and forsythia. The robins need to get up with the get down and come out to play!

Keep a weathered eye out yall!

I am a writer.

I’ve been asked to remind myself of that from time to time by people who have my best interests at heart. They want me not only to remember, but actually believe that tiny sentence; tiny though it may be it is powerful. Perhaps that’s the key, these four words in this particular order could be the best definition of me.

I am a girl.
I am a daughter.
I am a sister.
I am a mom.

These are true statements, the last of which makes my heart happiest as it is honestly the only thing by which I ever wanted to be defined ever since I can remember. Interestingly enough, the one thing about being a mom that no one tells you is that it is a terrible way to define who you are. It is fleeting in meaning…the label I mean. I have been a mom for more than eighteen years, and it is how I wanted to spend my days, my life, my…everything. Of course what you don’t know is as your children grow and change, so do you…and while I am a mom might be my favorite sentence, it means something different with one daughter in college and one a sophomore in high school than it did when these same daughters were five and two. I will never trade this sentence, but I have learned it isn’t what truly defines me.

I am a girl.
Though I’m still a girl in my own perception, I’m a woman in the real world. So while it’s a true statement, it feels slightly off.

I am a daughter.
I’ve actually begun to think of myself as more of a ‘quasi-daughter’ since my mother’s sudden death in November, and though I still have my biological father and a stepfather, I feel less like a daughter without my Mommie.

I am a sister.
I have a younger brother with whom I’ve become estranged, and one appointed (read: no relation) sister who is my bestest friend, and though these relationships are real, I’m not entirely convinced it’s a way to define myself.

I am a writer.
I actually am for many reasons…because I’m finally finishing my undergraduate degree, write essays and papers complete my assigned tasks.
I write in a journal, for many years I did it regularly filling book after book, and then I realized I was only writing about what made me feel bad so I set it aside and didn’t write for a long time. Recently I’ve begun journaling again, this time in a more positive way, which I will strive to continue.
I write what I call ‘creative nonfiction’ essentially these are essays on a topic I feel strongly about, or moves me in some particular way. At the moment, this is my favorite writing.
I write a blog with my mentor and friend, she is an early childhood education expert, working with children, parents and educators, I feel passionate about what she teaches and I am honored to be writing with her.

Because I am a writer…I will write. Sometimes I will write things no one really cares about, but other times I will write about relevant things, mostly I will write because I absolutely adore writing.