Kiddos

I just finished up an internship at an elementary school as a speech therapist. It was such a great experience, and I can't even tell you how much I gained from all the people I worked with. Thursday was my last day, and my heart kind of hurts now. We've had many good times indeed. Kids are pretty amazing creatures, and I learned something new from them everyday. I think they taught me more than I taught them. Just see this list of things I could come up with off the top of my head:

• If you wear a ring on any finger on either hand, it means you're married. Just ask every kid that gasped as they asked if I got married over the weekend.
• My supervisor is a God, just ask the 2nd grader I was teaching opposites to--she was a child, and Mrs. Allen is "a God," not an adult.
• If somebody of the opposite gender brings you lunch, it means *gasp* you like them and you're married to them, just ask the giggly 2nd grade boys in the upper learning delayed class who witnessed a lady drop lunch off to their bachelor teacher.
• My hair is messy, not curly. Just ask the little boy with Down Syndrome who would so happily tell me every time I worked with him.
• You're never too young to start schmoozing the ladies. Just ask the 2nd grade boy who, when asked to define the word 'pretty,' immediately exclaimed the little girl's name sitting next to him without missing a beat.
• The opposite of "hot" is "ugly," just ask the learning disabled boy who asked me if by "hot" I was referring to "hot girls."
• If you're going to refer to something as "easy," don't call it a piece of cake. It only gets people's hopes up, just ask the autism unit.
• Life is full of excitement, just ask the 1st grade little girl with pretty severe mental disabilities who always finds so much joy in the hall decorations she walks past multiple times every day.
• It's embarrassing to like girls, even if you can't help yourself, just ask the two fifth grade boys who drew that such unfortunate, much dreaded slip from the conversation jar--"What girl do you like?"
• Miss Hillary (another speech therapist) is cooler than me. Just ask the kindergartner who thinks I'm the worst ever.
• Santa Clause is of course real! Just ask the questioning and confused 4th grader who came into speech, asking my opinion on the matter, and then explaining that he couldn't possibly be fake because the cookies and milk were gone every year when his dad can't drink milk and his mom hates cookies.
• As modeled by a preschooler, the only way to think is when posed in this thoughtful stance:

 

 

Leaving with several bear hugs that all but knocked me off my feet, colored cards written by my life skills class saying thank you and that they would miss me, an offer to pay me $1,000.00 if I stay by a crushing 6th grade boy, the gifting of the Miss Nelson is Missing books, and countless other thoughtful acts made me feel pretty special as I left. I'll sure miss that school. Those darn kids sure have settled into my heart and left it a little fuller, all 65 of those little rascals.

Family Photos



I busted out my camera this past weekend and took it for a whirl and took some quick family photos for my sister. It's been quite some time since I've done much with my photography, and I was a bit rusty, but it gave me the bug again and reminded me how much I do indeed love it. I wish I had time and opportunity to do more. Here are a few photos from the shoot. They're a pretty adorable family, and I don't say that just because I'm biased.

 

Photographing children is always a bit of a whirlwind, and it wasn't until we were about 3/4 of the way through the photo shoot and plenty of attempts at persuading Kimball to give me a nice big real smile did I realize that this was his nice big picture smile, and the more I tried to tell him otherwise, the bigger his mouth opened. 

 

Again, the "smile". It makes me laugh every time.

 

  

 

 

 



All is fair in love and cannibalism.

**If I'm being honest, this is a very true story. In fact, a truer story has ne'er been told. No overexaggeration, no embellishment. I stick only to the basic facts here folks.

Several weeks ago, I made my way to the good state of Arizona. Caught up in the excitement of a dear friend's wedding, I decided to explore around the city before I headed to the reception. Music-jammin, gut busting singing, fast roaming in and out of streets is what I could have been found doing. I could have singlehandedly put a car full of partying teenaged girls to shame.

In my excitement, I didn't seem to notice how my surroundings were gradually beginning to change. The streets became darker and darker, growing ever increasingly less friendly, when before I knew it, I found myself in the midst of complete slum. The "houses" were shabby and colorless, barely standing. Even the word shack would be generous--maybe only something more than cardboard boxes. As I crept through the street in my car, my heart started to beat faster, and I knew my situation was becoming more dire with every half inch I crept forward, my prognosis growing ever worse with every second as glimpses of movement caught my eye every which way.

Friday nights in date central

I live in probably the world's largest dating mecha. Single or married, if you are not having to pencil in real life around your dates, then you will find yourself with a nice view of some nasty nostrils from people looking down the bridges of their noses at you, wondering, figuring, assuming what is wrong with you. "He must have committment issues." "She's probably a 'career girl.'" "He must be totally insecure." "Yup, incomprehnsible social skills. I can tell." "Not the datable type." With this mantra, weedends are very paired off, and very entertaining. So with this in mind, what might you see on a Friday or Saturday night here? Lots of dinner dates, hand holding, eyelash batting, hearty laughter to not funny jokes, late night secluded strolls, star gazers, bla bla bla, but could there be more to their stories?

Sitting at a traffic light in my car one Friday evening, about 7:00, prime date time (that's clever writing because that rhymes), I caught myself people watching the cars surrounding me, and snowballing into ever increasing judgemetns of each person, becoming the insider of what was really going on in the cars around me...the rest of the story.

Car immediately to the left: A young boy and girl. Girl, I imagine as being about a sophmore, has long hair curled to complete perfection, fancy ruffly blousel, and shiny lips. The car exuded stiffened smiles and forced laughter with unnaturall attempts at filling every second with vivid conversation. Both trying entirely too hard to impress. Definite first date. My prognosis for the night: conversation flopping at some mediocre restaraunt with both members of the party staring uncomfortably at their plates as they eat, desperately trying to figure out what to say next. But a second date? Yes, I imagine there was a second date. She was way too cute for him to not ask her out again, and she was way too giggly for there to not be a second date.

Car immediately to the right: A young couple, clearly "a couple," a little more relaxed, a little less impressive. The girl looked nice, but she clearly didn't spend any extra time getting ready for the date. She was in the middle of something great according to her animation, clearly not needing much reinforcement and clearly the subject being only great in her opinion as the dude's eyes led to a dead stare into the road ahead, contributing nothing. Probably not even listening. My prognosis for the night: Relatively newlywed couple trying to fulfill their date night duty by going to a movie, probably a chic-flic. Probably went straight home afterwards. He might have been told off at some point in the night for not being quite attentive enough, but then again, it wouldn't surprise me if she didn't even notice the lack of attention.

Car just behind to the right: Couple sitting in front, car seat and baby sitting in back. Girl slouching in the passenger seat, leaning against the passenger window with her head slung against her fist. Body posture exuding complete boredom. Boy, once again, staring blankly straight ahead. No emotion. No conversation. No interaction. Prognosis for the night: Going to pick up the cheapest ice cream in the nearest grocery store in attempts to liven up the mundane routine of every night followed by an early bedtime.

My car: What might people have been thinking of me, sitting there with, heavenforbid, nobody but myself in my car? "Probably a crazy cat lady." They might say. "Maybe going to drown her bitterness in some Ben and Jerry's the way she's watching us like that." This is probably what the couple in the first car was laughing at so vigorously. I'm sure they'll milk that subject far past its worth. Glad I could be an attempted start at an inside joke. Anything to fill that awkward silence, right?

Aaand the gap between student and professor grows ever larger.

After 3 minutes of an empty water bottle and dying of thirst while studying, I decided it was about time to take a trip to the drinking fountain and fill up my water bottle. Amidst the filling process, I found myself in the middle of two professors hanging outside their offices, making some "small talk."

"I can't do that. I'm headed out next week," said Professor Aristocrat, feeling as though any other details were unnecessary.

"Where ya' goin'?" Said Professor Dignity, feeling as though it would be awkward to just walk away without inquiring.

"The UK," stated Professor Aristocrat factually, as if bored by the conversation and dull topic.

"Oh good," Professor Dignity replied flatly, as if he was talking to his Grandma who told him she got out and visited the neighbors yesterday, only with less enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I got invited to a thing in York..." said Professor Aristocrat, as if he commuted there every weekend.

That's when I finished filling up my water bottle and had to leave the vicinity of the conversation, but I'm sure the conversation ended with Professor Aristocrat saying something like this, "I just tossed that name out there like it's no big deal, because it's not. Mostly I just said that as vague and cryptic as possible to leave you wondering what earth shattering thing I've done that I would be invited to whatever it is I'm invited to. Have fun reading about me in the news next week. Bye bye now." 

I'll admit, I felt a little out of place--the lowly college student in the midst of hoity toity snooty professor world who would pee her pants if she found out she got invited to York for anything, and would have to give up a whole years pay just to go. Yet here I am getting worked up and excited about my trip to visit the "big city" an hour away and for signing a rental contract for the "super nice" condo I'm going to be living in for the next year. I mean, it does have all new appliances. Meanwhile these big kids don't even get excited for a trip out of the country, most likely for something really really honorary that they've accomplished. Here I am with small talk involving "Where are you from?" or "What are you studying?" or "When me grow up me teech people to talk good. Me going to be speech therapist. Speech pathologist if you getting fancy," or "Do you prefer bacon or sausage?" Pretty sure their small talk is bigger than my big talk. Yup, I just checked. I am worm. Let me just spill my water all over me since I'm not even capable to take a drink and screw the lid back on. Yeah, I'll just take my lowly self and my wet pants out of this highly superior presence back to my books around the corner and continue to stress about upcoming tests, but most currently about how my usual chair that I always sit in every day is taken, and about how I am supposed to concentrate sitting on this weird bench that's all the way on the other side of the room than what I'm normally used to. So please, just pardon me. No, actually, I'm pretty sure I was too lowly to even be noticed by them, let alone pardoned. I take it back.

"I am Michelle Nelson, and I can do hard things."

***Disclaimer: This is not one of my typical posts. I generally try to stay away from writing anything overly personal that exposes me too much, and mainly just stick to the silly, mundane, frequently meaningless things of life (i.e. tea, bangs, killing plants, clubs, shoes, cats, plastic containers, you get the point), but this one. This one is intensely personal. I don't write this to talk about "woe is me," or to show off and say look at me! Look what I did! But rather, I write this, and post it to articulate what I have gradually come to realize what I have learned, and to publicly express my love and gratitude that is all but bursting at my seems right now. I feel extremely vulnerable in posting this, and I'm a little scared to do so, thus please just be sensitive to my insecurities. In fact, you don't even have to feel obligated to comment in the tiny weensiest way. :) Now, let's carry on.

I can't say I've loved this past year. I can't even say I liked it. I surely can't say I would do it again if given the chance, and I definitely can't say I never considered giving up, dropping everything, and downright quitting. There were days where the only thing I could think about was putting one foot in front of the other. There were days where just getting out of bed was accomplishment enough. There were days where I found myself longing to get hit by a passing car on my way to school rather than face another day. There were days I found myself in a state of complete numbness, feeling absolutely nothing, just droning on and on, doing what I had to do, emotionless, entirely dull, entirely deadened. On the hand, there were countless nights I cried myself into a restless sleep, drenching my once white pillowcase with stains of mascara and smears of tears. I frequently found myself staring at the piles of books and things I had to do, responsibilities I had to face, tears streaming down my face, feeling utterly conquered, wondering if this is who I was now, and not liking it. Was I really as robotic and lifeless as I felt? Could I really not handle the simple tasks Heavenly Father had placed in front of me? Had I really lost the hope and knowledge I once had that I really could carry all that was on my plate? My life really wasn't that hard. It was pretty great, and yet I felt overwhelmed. I felt cracking pressure. I felt lost. I felt inadequate to the deepest level. I felt let down, by others as well as myself. I felt depressed. I felt the weight of the world bearing down on my shoulders, compressing me, suffocating me. I felt broken.

But the atonement is real.

Just by the sheer act of not giving up, and putting one foot in front of the other, I was showing faith, the only way in which I knew how. Unbeknownst to me, I was giving God something to work with--some level of forward motion for him to help me through, even if the only thing I could muster was the tiniest of shuffles. He was able to turn it into something significant as I felt the gradual helping and healing power of the atonement take its affect. My burden was never removed, or not even necessarily ever eased, but because I didn't quit, and because I kept moving forward, the Savior was able to mold me, and change me into somebody that could carry the burden. Looking back, all along the way, I may have been bearing my burden myself, but Jesus Christ was bearing me up. I was being held all along as I carried on with such a heavy heart so much of the time, but being blessed all along with tender mercies poured all along my path. Although they did not lighten my load, they made me just ever so slightly strong enough that I could bear everything else and keep moving forward, allowing Christ to continue to change me into the person he needs me to be.

Despite my feelings of being conquered and overcome, and my feelings of sheer despair and insufficiency, I also felt the sense of being inundated with love, and watched my life become enriched with the fullness of some of the greatest blessings I have ever experienced. All those days in which all I could see was the gloom and rain of the world drowning me were really the down pouring of blessings gone unrecognized. People all along my way lifted me up, encouraged me, whether they knew it or not. Lifelong friendships were established who literally and figuratively saved me throughout the year. My path was paved time and time again, guiding me in the right direction, and as I ventured out with trembling nerves with the intention to make a difference and change the lives of those I work with, I have found that in reality, they are the ones that have changed mine. My life has been impacted by the sincerity, sweetness, and genuine-ness of the souls harbored and trapped in disabled bodies I was blessed to interact with, along with the love, devotion, and earnestness of their caregivers in ways in which words cannot describe. Without knowing, they have supported me, pushed me, produced me with motivation, given me purpose to carry on, and have changed me for the better in ways that I could not have been changed any other way. 

It may have been a rough year, but so much good has sprouted from it as well, and although I would not do it all over again given the chance, I would neither exchange my experiences I've had for anything. My dad once told me, "I have never looked back at school and said 'That was fun'. There were fun moments.... Some of the friends made and experiences enjoyed and/or endured were precious or instructive beyond measure. It was a unique time when we could do things next to impossible now. But fun...... Look for those moments. They are precious." At the time I thought he was crazy. I couldn't understand how the pressure I felt could be viewed in such a way, but I think I get it now.

Although I can't say I look on the past year with joy, delight, and bliss, I can say it was one of the richest times of my life, where I felt stretched and have grown in leaps and bounds as I witnessed the love my Father in Heaven has for me as well as for even the lowliest of his children. Through the thick and the thin, he was constant. He was there. Although I cannot say I know what's in store in the coming years, I do know that there will be challenges, many of which even harder, bigger, and quite frankly, better, and I can say that I will be able to come out conqueror through those as well, hopefully as a bigger person than going in, because, as my mom has known all too well and tried to drill into me from the time I was 12, "I am Michelle Nelson, and I can do hard things."

April Showers Bring May Flowers

#1: It's not supposed to "drip, drip, drop" inside.
#2: There are no flowers in my room to begin with.
#3: It's not April.
#4: Please. Stop. Leaking.

This:

versus this:

Flowers from April showers:

Versus ruined textbook from in home May leakages:

There is a difference.