Many, many times in my life I have read a passage that has spoken directly to my heart, exactly when I most needed it. Today was just such a day - this excerpt is from Alice Hoffman’s Incantation:

“If every life is a river, then it’s little wonder that we do not even notice the changes that occur until we are far out in the darkest sea. One day you look around and nothing is familiar, not even your own face.

My name once meant daughter, granddaughter, friend, sister, beloved. Now those words mean only what their letters spell out: Star in the night sky. Truth in the darkness.

I have crossed over to a place where I never thought I’d be. I am someone I would never have imagined. A secret. A dream. I am this, body and soul. Burn me. Drown me. Tell me lies. I will still be who I am.”

I will still be who I am.

We don’t own joy - it is a gift given in moments, to those open to receive it.

Be thankful, and be ready. That little boy with the rolling belly laugh at gymnastics? It doesn’t get any better than that - thank you.

OK, here we go! I registered for my first two classes at Wayne State University today, in pursuit of a master’s degree in library and information sciences.

Time to evolve, finally, and this feels like exactly the right direction. I stay connected with the world of kid lit, but am not looking ahead to years of the wild ups and downs of freelance writing. When I started my college career twenty-four years ago, I briefly flirted with the idea of a degree in technical writing, with the idea that I would love to write text books, but after I really looked hard at the daily life of that type of profession, I shied away and moved toward something more stable and predictable. At 17 years old, I knew that I was just not cut out for the capricious vagaries of life as a professional writer. And after five years of actually living it, I KNOW that I need a day job. Bad.

It should take me two years to complete this degree, if I go in the summers, too, and take a manageable 6 credits at a time. And of course, I’ll continue working during that time, so my writing days are far from over. I’d give it all up, though, for a part-time job at Barnes & Noble! Imagine it, all you tormented freelancers out there: you go in, you work, you leave, YOU’RE DONE. Boggles the mind.

In the mean time, I’ve got work through November, at least, and can start subbing as soon as that slows down. That terrifies me, now that it is actually a possibility, but that is a post for another day.

I cancelled our cable TV yesterday. As you can imagine, I had to justify this decision to the cable TV minion on the other end of the phone.

“No, we have not decided to go with a different service. Yes, I want NO CABLE TV. Trying to cut expenses. No, I do not want your super -low, please-please-please stay with us rate (and why wasn’t I getting that anyway??). Look, there are a lot of reasons I don’t want cable!”

Yes, I lost my temper a bit at the end there. I mean, I understand it is their job to try to talk me out of this kind of decision, but at a certain point it is just NONE OF THEIR FREAKIN’ BUSINESS, know what I mean?

For years now, I’ve been whining about my kids watching too much TV, but what have I really done about it? Stomped around a bit? Unplugged it once or twice and shooed them outside, only to find them right back at it 20 minutes later? Enough.

Now I don’t have to constantly be on “ICarly” patrol (a forbidden show for the younger set), or tangle with the pre-teen about whether or not “House” is appropriate for a 12 year old (HELLO IT’S NOT). We’ll still have broadcast TV, eventually, but for at least a while, goodbye “Sportscenter”. Goodbye “Girls Next Door” and the nine million other trashy, lowest-common-denominator, ohmygodwhatisthiscountrycomingto CRAP programs that my husband finds with eerie precision. Goodbye Food Network and The History Channel (sniff).

We’ll see how it goes.

When I was in high school, I wrote proposals for experiments to go on the space shuttle as part of my chemistry and physics coursework. With ENTHUSIASM.

I have actually seen the space shuttle launch, from a distance, which still goes down as one of the most thrilling experiences of my life.

I’ve been interested in NASA’s work for a long time, but did anyone else look at their most recent venture and think WTF? We just spent $79 MILLION DOLLARS to find out if there is ice on the moon.

Why, you ask? I know I did. Here is the rationale touted in an article on MSNBC.com: “In the long term, ice reservoirs could be used to provide water for lunar settlements, as well as oxygen for breathing and hydrogen fuel for spacecraft. In the shorter term, learning about lunar water could help scientists reconstruct the ancient past of the Earth-moon system.” Click here to read the full text of the article.

Call me silly. Call me short-sighted. Call me PISSED OFF that we just spent $79 MILLION DOLLARS on this.

The state of Michigan is in such dire straits that we are contemplating cutting the Michigan Promise scholarship, which is financial aid promised to approximately 96,000 promising young students in the state of Michigan. Two of those students are mine, and I get physically ill when I think about what we will have to do to come up with that money if this goes the way I think it will. Can we get some federal aid for that? Don’t think so…

Is it just me, or do the reasons given for conducting this research seem too incredibly lame to be true? “…water for lunar settlements”?? REALLY?

There is no more humbling experience than job hunting. I fully believe it is because you have to cram the pertinent parts of your life into those tiny little spaces on applications. It is, quite literally, diminishing.

Words to remember, as the resume count mounts and the phone remains silent:

“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail.”

–Confucius

Courage!

Well, not AND gotten paid for it, like Kristin.

Thank you, Kristin, for this blog post, which so succinctly explains why, after five years as a freelancer, I just can’t take it anymore. I must admit, I surfed her blog with more than a little envy, and some other emotion I refuse to call regret. That is the life I probably would have led, if I had not embarked on the Mommy Road when I was so young.

I love the life I have now, wouldn’t change a thing, no way. But I can long, just a little, for far off places.

A recent revelation about my professional life will probably precipitate the demise of this blog… I’ve decided to go back to school. I’ve ridden the freelance roller coaster for five years now, and it is just by God time to get off this crazy train.

I’ve been joking that the last article I will attempt to shop out will be called “Life as a Freelance Writer; or Don’t Quit Your Day Job”. I am grateful for these last years, and the time I’ve been able to work from home, but I’ve reached the end of my ability to deal with the ups and downs.. that, and my steady Eddie, keep-the-kids-in-shoes client is related to the automotive industry, and I don’t have to tell you how grim THAT neck of the woods is looking.

So, evolving! I’ll tell you more about it when everything becomes official. In the mean time, I am seriously looking for work. Anything. REALLY.

Eight years ago today, a little girl named Zoe was conceived. She was unplanned, but never, ever unwanted, and in the weeks and months that followed the despair of September 11th, I took enormous solace in her approaching birth. There is an immediacy about pregnancy, giving birth and tending to a newborn that keeps you simultaneously focused on the moment, and looking ahead to what will come. There was such promise there, such hope in my burgeoning belly, and when she arrived… well, see for yourself! She was the happiest baby, always smiling, quick to laugh. She was “The Glue”. Where once there were two families, now there was one, united and cemented by our adoration of this small girl.

Every year, on the anniversary of this day, I look back and remember what began that day, rather than focusing on what ended. Zoe is joyful and fierce, silly and scientific, and absolutely, utterly unique. She is agile, athletic and graceful, compassionate and stubborn and strong.

Eight years ago today, a little girl named Zoe lost her life when the plane she and her family were on crashed into the Pentagon. She was just 8 years old, one year older than my Zoe is today.

So today, I will hold my Zoe tight, and bury my nose in her neck to make her giggle, smell her wonderful little girl smell, feel her glorious hereness solid in my arms.

I’ll kiss the spot where her dimple hides, and probably have to holler at her over something, and I’ll hear all about her fourth day of second grade.

I will read her her favorite story, and sing her lullabies, and lie with her while she falls asleep. And in the soft, late summer twilight I know I’ll cry as I listen to her breathe, grieving for another little girl named Zoe.

I hope someday I say something like this, something that people quote in their blogs, or write on a note card to hang on the wall.

Something that reminds you that even when things are hard, and nothing is going your way, and even a waitressing job seems too much to ask, you always have a choice: be happy, or don’t.

The gloom of this world is but a shadow.
Behind it, yet within our reach,
is joy.
Take Joy.

—Fra Giovanni