Summertime: Take the Plunge

It has been five years since I graduated from ASU. Five years and some months.

A lot has happened since I was the student. I’ve taught high school for more than half a decade: Seniors, Juniors, Freshmen, Honors Freshmen. My uncoordinated self coached three years of 5-A1 freshman volleyball — including an undefeated season. I bought a car. Bought a house.  Pulled off a super cute pregnancy (minus the barefoot in the grocery store incident). Developed HELLP Syndrome. Delivered the most perfect human being. Lost the house (and some other unmentionables not really to be considered losses). Lived through whatever the hell last year was. Became a single mom. Got back on my feet.

I can’t really say I’ve “put off” getting my Master’s degree. I’ve wanted it, or not wanted it, but either way — it’s never been the right time. Plus, when I’d peruse the internet aisles of stock degrees, I’d get disenchanted and then I’d do that thing where one nostril scrunches up, and that’s never a good sign — or attractive, for that matter.

So when I found a program through ASU that geared itself towards Gifted Education, and I got stoked for the first time in ever, I texted Best Friend Ashley:


I’m the strongest right now that I’ve been in a long time, and I’m only going forward. Living with grace and resilience was goal number one. Now, substance and boldness.

So anyway, I’m doing it.  I’m investing in me, and it feels… rad. I am so alive when I get to be the student. Like, my blood courses faster and dance-ier under the official job title of learner. I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to pull off raising my two-year old manchild, having my best year of teaching to date, and killing it in grad school, but I’m not worried, either. Because I’m Heather Fucking Lange, and I will take care of shit, because that’s what I do.

This post feels is a little self-centered (I’m just so silly excited), so to knock me down to size a little bit, let’s talk about how Carter announced to all of the Cabin Coffee patrons this morning that he “WENT POTTY!” in the appropriate facility and even “FLUSHED IT!” He then spilled all of Kami’s Cheerios and attempted to eat them off the floor. I blame the chocolate milk high. Don’t worry, it was organic, so it’s obviously ok.

Or, we can chat about how I’ve been openly blasting the Backstreet Boys station on Pandora. Remember BBMak? Yeah, they’re on it. And Savage Garden. And S-Club 7.

We can also direct attention to my recent penchant for obnoxiously red lipstick, as illustrated above. Russian Red by MAC, if you were wondering what to buy/steer clear of.

Or, we can discuss how it took me four weeks to complete a one-day painting job downstairs. Pathetic.

Also: I ate ice cream out of the carton today. While blogging. And listening to boy bands. In my underwear.


Stop embarrassing me, Mom.
(Never. We will hug it out in front of your 7th grade classroom if need be. Though I might be getting ahead of myself.)


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