God, help me to be a Truvy-kind of friend.

When thinking how to begin this first blog for Sunshine & Sweet Tea, I knew I wanted it to encompass the theme of friendship, and of girls empowering one another, but everything I wrote came out sounding too much like a canned magazine article. And that is not what I wanted.

Not. at. all.

I want conversation.

Real. Raw. Gritty. Right where we live. Words that reveal how we really feel so that we can bypass all the drama that we are all so very weary of dealing with.

I mean, riiiight? Can I get an amen?

Drama free friendships sound like #goals, huh?

I began to think of all of the "friendship" movies my bestie and I watched together years and years ago. Beaches. Thelma & Louise. Fried Green Tomatoes. Anything by Nicholas Sparks. We'd stay up late into the night, with a box of Kleenex tucked into the sofa between us. You could pretty much judge the power of the movie by how many boxes of Kleenex we powered through.

But one movie stands out more prominently than all the rest. Steel Magnolias.

A truly Southern story…a little bit of love, a little bit of sweet, and a whole lot of sassy.

The story of six women - M'Lynn, her daughter Shelby, Truvy, Arnelle, Clairee, and Ouiser - and the strong bonds of friendship they forged. A friendship that transcended age and class and stood strong through thick and thin, good times and bad times, Arnelle's changing hairstyles and hair color, Shelby's failing health, and Ouiser's wicked one-liners.

The movie revolves around Truvy's Beauty Shop - amid nail polish and hair dye - in a small rural Louisiana town as the women work through the joys and sorrows of their lives. The real theme, however, is friendship and how the relationships we build - in our neighborhoods, at work, at church, school, or even at beauty salons - are what sustain us through life's highs and lows.

Here are five things I took away from the friendships in Steel Magnolias:

1. Friendships are best maintained when you have regularly scheduled meetings at a regularly appointed place. In Steel Magnolias, Truvy’s Beauty Shop fits the bill for this. The six friends continually meet there to not only beautify themselves but to talk about what’s going on in their lives and ’round town. Now, I don't have friendships quite like this. If you do, I'd called you blessed, my friend. My life, and the lives of those I call my tribe, are busy. There is not set time, or schedule, when we see each other. But...when we DO...it's like no time has passed at all. We pick up right where we left off. 

2. Friends show up. Whether for celebrations or funerals, good friends show up to double your joy and halve your sorrow. And in the transition from one part of life to the next, they wait with you. The key term here is "show up." This means you are there, and they can be here...as quick as a phone call, as simple as a text message. Friends don't let friends hurt alone. 

3. Friends will tell you the truth–even if it’s harsh. And they will save you from making a fool of yourself even if it embarrasses you. When Clairee starts a gig as the radio color announcer for the local football team, she takes the job title literally by chattering on about the color of the team’s new uniforms rather than simply filling in information about team analysis. Ouiser sets her straight by telling her–in the middle of the locker room full of football players–she’s making a big fool of herself because all anyone wants to hear about are touchdowns and injuries. Ouiser’s delivery method was characteristically harsh, but at the heart was Clairee’s best interest. Dear goodness. While my friends may not be this brash, sometimes it's just a look on their face, or a hesitance in their answer, and you just know.....

4. Friends give you a safe place to fall apart (but they also know how to use humor to help put you back together). When M’Lynn breaks down after Shelby’s funeral, nobody tries to talk her into feeling better. They just stand with her and listen. As in all the hard times of life they share, the friends don’t overlook the hard but patiently do what they can to help each other laugh through it. 

 5. There’s no such thing as over-sharing. These women don’t waste time wondering if they should risk vulnerability or avoid “airing their dirty laundry.” They share the good, bad, and ugly because they know their friends are a safe place where they’re understood. They risk because they know the benefits of friendship far outweigh the worry that they are “bothering” someone.

WE are enough.

We take care of the things we love, not the things we hate.

I read this statement today and it really hit home with me. It doesn't really matter what subject we may be discussing: relationships, our home, personal possessions, or...our bodies. When we care about things, about people, and about <gulp> our own self...we take care them.

Often when people talk about body image and acceptance, they misunderstand; they think accepting your body means resigning and giving up. They think if they accept their body, they won’t have any motivation to exercise or eat well. 

Acceptance does not have to also mean resignation. Loving your body does not mean resigning and giving up or treating it like garbage (both physically and emotionally). Loving your body means that you will honor it, listen to it, take care of it.

It means that there will be days when you just aren't feeling it and you eat like crap. Then you will feel like crap and the next day you'll wake up and resolve to learn from the day before, not mourn over it. We are clothed in skin and therefore we are human; we will screw up, we will make mistakes, there will be days (and sometimes a series of them) when we ignore all we innately know and treat our bodies poorly. It's not those days that are so dangerous for us; it's how our mind handles those days that sets the tone for the outcome.

I used to think (back when eating and exercising were tied to my self image instead of my well-being) that if I dove face first into a mega bag of M&Ms that my healthy day was blown to smithereens and therefore I should just feel free to eat everything in sight and begin again with a new day. Now I now that simply isn't true. All I need to do is accept the fact that I ate too many M&Ms and then move on, making a better decision about what I have to eat for dinner. 

Our bodies are gifts from God. They house vital organs, grow beautiful babies, and furnish us with energy and vitality to live the best life possible. When I finally began to see my flawed body as my one and only vehicle through this life, I began to love it a little more. And the next day a little more than the day before. It became less and less about being "ideal" and "pretty" and more and more about being strong and capable. 

We are enough.

And we're worthy to receive our own care and - more importantly - acceptance.

Ebb and Flow, People. Ebb and Flow.

Here is Murphy's Law of Classroom Juju.  Hold up, do I need to define Classroom Juju for you?  When I say "Classroom Juju," I am referring to that feeling in your classroom as well as that feeling you get about yourself as a teacher.  It's your vibe, how you're rolling, you know...how you doin'? 

Okay.  Back to Murphy's Law of Classroom Juju.  First let me preface it by saying that I don't believe in "Juju"; I believe in prayer. Lots and lots of it. It's how a teacher survives day after day. But there truly are days when you're just feeling it. If you're like me, you don't always look heavenward with a grateful heart and an appreciative smile; more than likely, you're engaging in your own self-centered "look what I made happen today" kind of dance. 

But, you see, it's like a big 'ol giant pendulum. It's gonna swing back and - when it does - it's gonna be hard enough and swift enough to knock you right off that high horse you climbed on the day before. Because, according to Murphy's Law, a fabulous day in the classroom will be followed immediately by a day that makes you want to light your own hair on fire.  

Picture it:  A crisp fall day.  Your morning routine? Slammin'.  Your reading and writing instruction?  Epic.  Your students independence and stamina?  Unparalleled.  Your test review?  Unreal.  Student level of enthusiasm?  Stoked. Classroom management?  The stuff of genius.  

All in all, you are on your way back to your classroom after dismissal feeling as if you have this week in the bag.  You can practically hear your own theme music following you down the hallway.  Your after school routine is easy, breezy, beautiful.  You chat with a few fellow teachers, there are no pop up meetings or last minute to-dos.  You pack your bag that does NOT have spilled morning coffee in it and head home.  You may even have time to squeeze in a workout.  Say whaaaaa????

Cut to the next day.  OH THE NEXT DAY.  

From the moment you welcome the first few into your classroom they act like it is the first day of school and they have no idea what your routine or rules might be.  You're all, "Guys, it's totally like the 40th day of school."  And they're all, "What's your name again?"  as they throw their backpacks just anywhere (The floor is crowded people; your teacher will trip if you keep this up), shout out that they don't remember their login and password for the grammar program you use EVERY BLESSED WEEK and then proceed to chit chat as opposed to getting down to the business of their morning work.  

One student has a meltdown during 3rd period (boyfriend broke up via text...a text, for the love of all things teenager-ish) the teacher next door lets you know that "your class acted out of control" while you stepped down to the copy room for TWO MINUTES, and  - to add injury to insult, the leftovers you brought for lunch sucked.  On the way back to your classroom after finally ...FINALLY... dismissing your class, you get stopped in the hall by an administrator who reminds you of a meeting that just never made it to your calendar.

I'm telling you, to be a teacher you have either got to be the most balanced chick on the planet OR enjoy riding the emotional ebbs and flows.  What does it say about our confidence that even I (who is in possession of a fairly strong sense of self and capacity if I do say so myself) feel crushed and worthless at the end of a day like this?

The good news?

The pendulum.

You will not  stay on your butt for long. That fortitude that all great teachers have will begin to rise up. You'll go home, have a good dinner, grade an essay that knocks your socks off because it is just That. Good. and you'll sleep the slumber of a Disney princess. Then you'll wake up and begin a new day.

It will go one of two ways. <Smile.>

And that is why we do this, day after day after day. We love the ebb and flow, the unexpected glimpse of a heart touched, the smile of a shy one who feels safe in your presence, the magic that happens when a lesson ignites a spark of understanding. 

We are teachers. We thrive on ebb and flow.

She gather me, man.

“She is a friend of mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order. It’s good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind.”

• Toni Morrison, Beloved

For months and months I had no good answer when folks would ask why I had changed districts. It wasn’t the past admin. Not at all. It certainly wasn’t my coworkers. In fact, I worried that I might be losing some people that I had come to care for very, very much. In time, what I would come to realize is that my Amy, my Neesa, my Donna, and my Kathy, and all the many more would continue to be a part of my life. I had not left them.

I had simply been moved.

For a while, I was shallow enough to think I had been moved because my teaching talents were needed in this new place. I fell instantly in love with my new environment, with my students, my admin, my team. As always, I had a blast preparing for the new school year, drawing up lesson plans, decorating my room, meeting everyone and putting names to faces.

And then - during the second nine weeks I hit a wall and I had a total epiphany.

I wasn’t there for anyone else.

I was there because there were people there FOR ME. I would go through something deeply personal, deeply profound, something that rocked me like I had never been rocked before. It would have nothing to do with my marriage, with my teaching career, or with our kids or business. But it put me in a place of vulnerability that I had never felt before. Things from my past pelted me right and left. “Lost” moments that I had evidently blocked out suddenly became vivid memories. I was used to being able to “cover my emotions,” or hide my feelings, wearing a mask to cover any imperfections. This time I would not be able to do that.

I cracked and my new team drew me in. They quite literally encircled me, prayed for me, and allowed me to ugly cry in front of them. Betsy, Telly, and Haylie are my angels. They are three of the most encouraging, godly, FUNNY women I have ever known and I cannot imagine having the breakdown I did at work with anyone but them.

With their encouragement, and after hearing my story, I felt empowered to reach out to three more women. Women who should have been on my go-to list decades ago. This whole lesson has taught me that I am not invincible; I cannot do all things on my own. I don’t have to appear perfect. In fact, there’s a HUGE degree of relief in admitting, “Hey I do not have my shizzle together.  This happened to me and - quite frankly - it messed me up.” Never having had a sister myself, I turned to the next best thing, my sisters-in law - Kay, Melinda, and Robyn. Once again, that sisterhood of rallying - almost like circling the wagons to protect the settlers…

By the way, it’s now almost the end of the calendar year, and your husband is immensely grateful that you’ve finally turned to female confidantes. The business, by the way, has more than doubled during the course of the year. You’re not quite going to make your end of the year  deadline, but you’re going to be very close. Already you have four weddings on the 2018 B&B calendar, and the cabins have about an 85% consistent booking rate. Sharing this passion for this hospitality business has brought you even closer as a couple.

You wouldn’t have thought so a month ago, but you’re leaving 2017 healthier than you entered it. Spiritually, emotionally, with your marriage, your family, your job, and your business…

Girl, you are going to go into this 50th year of your life dancing because you know what is important in this life...

The Pioneer Woman - my Shero!

Ree Drummond may very well be my favorite #girlboss ever! I have to say, finally visiting Pawhuska after a decade of reading her blog and of watching her cooking show on Food Network these past several years, I was dubious as to whether or not all the hype would live up to my enormous expectations.

Well, um...it did.

Her show’s catch phrase is “Welcome to my frontier!”

We definitely felt the welcome!

Now, more than ever, I am in awe of what this seemingly simple Oklahoma-living, kid-raising, Marlboro Man- loving cook, wife, mom, and business owner has accomplished with such grace, poise, and low-key fanfare. You walk into The Mercantile (known fondly as “The Merc”) and instantly feel as though you’ve stepped into the home of a very close friend. From the gift wrap counter, to the colorfully displayed shelves of dishes, novelties, and linens, to the friendly sales clerks dressed in sharp, black-button down shirts with the now-famous strands of PW’s signature turquoise beads - it all bathes you in a warm, fuzzy feeling of belonging, of truly being a part of her frontier.

Mom and I both picked up this first issue of her new magazine. Y’all. You NEED to stop by your local Walmart and pick up your very own copy! It has been a very long time since I have read a magazine from cover to cover, but that is exactly what I did with this one. The articles are relevant, the editorials are heartfelt, and the pictures are just pure Americana. And in today’s climate - who doesn’t need a bit of THIS in their life?

Just this weekend my niece referred to me as a “fan girl,” and I guess - even though I am a full grown, soon-to-be 50 year old, I am indeed a fan girl. There is something to be respected about a person with a dream that is totally centered around her family, her principles, and her desire to leave a positive imprint on the world around her that completely inspires me.

Maybe - from one transplanted gal to another - there is something about her that further encourages me to press further on my passion here at the B&B. To take heart that great things take great time to create, to nourish, and then to flourish.

When C H A N G E is good, but not always fun.

Change is never easy for me. It never has been. That dreaded feeling that collects in the pit of your tummy, rolling and tumbling in such a way that you're not sure if you are excited or just plain terrified.

One thing I've learned, though, is to trust the little nudge in the depths of your soul; when it urges change, I know I'd be wise to listen and consider my next steps very carefully.

In a way, this is quite funny that I still go through this myriad of emotions, considering that the B&B is continually going through changes, especially with this huge expansion we're in the big middle of right now. I think it must be because Mike and I are so focused on the end goal that the changes we endure during the process feel more like "the next step" rather than true changes.

When I signed my contract with my last district, I thought it would be where I would spend the remainder of my teaching career. There were no doubts in my mind; instead, there was such a sweet serenity in knowing I'd be teaching in the very community where I live, that the commute was a mere 9 minutes - door to door, and that I had found my forever school home.

I seriously never thought that would change.

I am so in love with where we live - the actual land, but also the neighbors, the community, the familiarity that has become our home over the past six years. My students here are at the heart of what I have done for 10 months out of the year, for these years. The thing is, they will always be mine. If a student has sat in my class, it is my hope and prayer that they know that NOTHING will change my feelings for them. Not their graduation. Not them moving on to the next grade. Not them moving away.

Not me leaving this district for another.

I have moved to a new district. Coming to this decision had nothing to do with my current students, nothing to do with the community, and nothing to do with the fierce love I have for all I have experienced here. Instead, it has everything to do with that little nudge in my soul that prompted me to move to a new challenge, a new opportunity.

To many my decision probably makes no sense. I now have a bit of a commute. I know only a handful of people at the new district. I'm leaving my comfort zone for a place where I am sure it will take me a while to find my footing, my place. I'm also leaving students who mean the world to me. Students that I would cross the country for if they needed me to. I'm letting a huge piece of my heart stay with them, even as I move on to my next chapter in my teaching journey.

The decision making process itself was too personal to even try to put into words here, if I wanted to. The truth is, when I have these whispers in my soul - God whispers, I like to call them - it is personal and not something I'm inclined to share publicly. If you know me at all, you will know that this decision was made after lots of prayer, lots of thinking, and many, many talks with Mike.

It's been several weeks now, and the rumbling and tumbling in my tummy is still there, but now it is pure excitement. I look forward to the new students who will be in my life, the opportunities I will have to make an impact on them and their families, and especially the open door which was swung wide for me after my time in prayer. My heart is ready to encompass all the new even as it holds so close and so dear all of the old.

To all of my former students, you have my heart for always! I will still be front row and center for all of your accomplishments in life, I will still laugh at all of the fun we had, and still want to hug you tight when I know you need it most. Nothing will change that.

To all of my soon-to-be students, very soon this heart of mine will encompass you as well. Even though I don't know you yet, my heart is with you - planning, preparing - for that moment when we meet and begin our time together.

Once again, I am a transplanted gal. Trusting the process. Cherishing the past. Embracing the NOW. Anticipating the future.

Don't miss the bliss.

“This place where you are right now, God circled on a map for you.”

Is this not the best thing ever?

That wherever I go I have the assurance that God has gone before me, paving the way for my time there. Way too often I get caught up in the busyness that is life - work,marriage, kids, mortgages, students, the B&B...The reality is that - if I chose to - I could stay busy every single second and miss the bliss that comes from being in this very moment.

I’m a planner by heart. If you don’t believe it, just take a look at my plannerS (yes, multiple planners because just one doesn’t cover my life. One for the business, one for school, and then my personal one where I attempt to reconcile all the facets of my life into one place.) I just can’t NOT plan. Menus, to-do lists, lessons, steps or phases to take our business to the next level. While planning is important in life, the very act of planning everything so precisely is that sometimes my thoughts are more future focused, on things and places and people that have not yet been manifested in my life.

It’s in these rare moments of clarity in the midst of chaos that I realize I am in “over-planning” mode, and need to do my best to stop, breathe, and take in this spot where I am right now. It may be a spot of joy, maybe a little bit of a hard place, or maybe even just a place of silence where there is not a lot of activity going on. In each of these times, I need to embrace the now, the blessings and the lessons that are in THIS space. They are for me, from my Father.

I don’t want to miss the bliss.