Because Babies Are Awesome (At Least Mine Is)

I keep staring at my computer screen expecting a brilliant opening statement to appear and...blank space.

There's a few important items I need to announce.

I finished my capstone and turned it in with 19 minutes to spare! I had great hopes that it would be this radical, nuanced, stunning piece of work, and it's not. But, it's finished, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in Regent's graduating class who had a baby during the semester, and I wrote it either when Landon was asleep, when I was bouncing him with my foot, or when Stephen was here. So, I'm declaring victory nonetheless. In true Susie fashion I totally forgot how to create an MLA works cited page, which is something I've been doing off memory for five years. I get antsy with deadlines. Thankfully, Google exists and I survived.

Now I have an assignment in each of my non-senior classes, and then as of May 2nd, I'm a college graduate. *Tosses hat in the air*  At least the 2nd is when Regent's 2014 commencement is, so that's the date I'm claiming.

And the next week my sister graduates from TMC, and the next week my brother walks at CSU's commencement, and the next another brother graduates 8th grade. (And then my mom gets married!!) So, as you can see, our family is totally into letting each person have their time in the spotlight. And yes, our age versus graduation year pattern makes no sense, but we each had a different journey towards undergrad commencement.

I've been googling different quotations for my facebook cover photos, and I came across this insightful thought--supposedly by Elanor Roosevelt. (Can't trust the interwebz.)

And I find this so fitting, especially right now in the season of graduations and whatnot. It's fantastic reminder to me that, every day, I make choices that influence my tomorrow. It's a maxim about living intentionally, something that I often forget to do.

I think the biggest (such a lame adjective for an English major, but carrying on) reason I'm delighted to be graduating is that I won't have this steep expense draining my bank account. I paid my last pennies (hundreds of dollars) of tuition a few weeks ago, and it's so freeing not to have it anymore.I'm sure I'll eventually have more education, and that will come at a price, of course, but for these next months I'm going to enjoy not having to pay tuition.

Now that I'm finished (I promise) waxing poetic about my journey in expensive academia, I'm going to talk about my favorite bambino ever.

Fatz

I think he looks fatter here than he does in person--everything's squishing together so adorably here--but he is a total butterball.  I've been incredibly lucky and blessed that I've been able to exclusively breastfeed him--his occasional bottle is filled with perfectly warmed, pumped milk. He's ~15 pounds, sailing through his milestones, and as you can see, healthy, healthy, healthy. 

Whenever we go out, people comment on his rolls, or his smile, or just the fact that he's a baby, and I love it. The world can be a dark, sad place, and babies are such joy-bringers. They're everything that's fresh, innocent, and trusting in this world, and I think people are encouraged when they see a little beacon of joy. 

I've been loving life lately--especially the last few days that I've been finished with my capstone. Landon is interactive and fun, and I'm getting to see my husband so much more than when we were both working a lot, or when we were engaged or dating. I'm totally spoiled and have another seven weeks after I graduate to stay home with Landon before I go back to work. I find it crazy, but the girl who was constantly inundating her bosses with requests for full time hours at (technically) part time jobs--all while going to school full time--now will do anything in her power to work part time for this season of life. Babies are life changers.

One of my friends described this time as a "golden era" for us, and it truly is.

In my quest for yet another cover picture, I find this delightful piece of insight by Hemingway. 

This summarizes my precise feelings on the matter, and the imagery of blood-covered type writer is...well, beautiful in its grotesque way. 

I have the best intentions of building a new blog, now that some lovely people have pledged to follow me. It's on my post-graduation to-do list, and it will completed in a few weeks. It will. It must. 

The drool-monster (he can't be teething yet, right?!!) is still cheerfully kicking away and I'm yawning because he decided to act like an actual baby and sleep in two hour stints last night. I'm an avowed not-a-fan and would like him to go back to regularly scheduled program of 4-6 hours, or even increase the sleeping period. However, me being sleepy means that he will be soonish, and Landon sleepy time is Susie homework time. I have a travelogue to write!

And...for those of you who ask me for blog recommendations, here's a gorgeous super mama's blog that details the hilarity and utter crazy of four children three and under.

Read Camp Patton and your life will be better for it!

Truly.

My Mind on Three Espresso Shots

"Words, words, words."

~Hamlet

1. I just turned three assignments in at once and I'm reaalllly hoping the right paper went to the right Blackboard link. Otherwise, things could get amusingly awkward.

Why did this student with a Puritan first name and Prussian surname give me brief synopsis on the economic phenomenon of human capital (capital, not chattel) when I expected a literary journalism assignment?
Because. And do note, that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I never listened to the lecture. I've only ever listened to my Shakespeare professor's lectures, and that's because she quizzed us on them. Quiz me and I'll listen. Assume I want to listen to you and I'll ignore you.
I wish I could say my assignments were concise, brilliant pieces of work, showcasing my four years in higher education, but they were actually the ramblings of a young mother with 1.5 limbs and three spare minutes. School is eons easier childless, but life sans baby smiles is not nearly as happy.

2. My nearly 13 pound shadow and I made the exciting journey up to my mom's abode today for giggles, relaxation, and spoiling. Work days are forever when you're not working, and the wee one is still not speaking fluent English. He does, however, coo and it's adorable.
One tangent out of the way and another coming up, the bebe and I took the 5 (it's a freeway) so that we could slide through Dutch Brothers for a caffeine and sugar concoction not present in our current area.

This spot of heaven exists only in Nor Cal and Oregon.

They also lack drive thru timers, which bothers my barista brain.

 The barista in me disappeared when I pulled up the window and I ordered a drink with 3 shots of caffeine. I convinced myself I needed that for an hour and a half long drive, which is barely a jaunt in this land. (I'm currently suffering from pre-pregnancy and baby energy level and all the words want to rush out of my head through my fingertips and onto the page. Also, my eyes are hyper.)

But as soon as I began sipping my delectable concoction--and berating myself only slightly for drinking it--the wee man began to stir. Once we were on the freeway, he started protesting his cruel fate of his usually beloved carseat. Loudly. Since I am not Mrs. Incredible, equipped with the streeeeeeeetchiest arms, nor can I clone myself, and the car had to be driven, Chunk-a-lunk remained in his carseat. A few miles down the road, it became more than apparent that he was not calming down by his lonesome.
Thankfully, the builders and planners of that stretch of freeway had thoughtfully built a rest stop for wailing infants and their almost-deaf mothers, and Baby Bear and I pulled off into the green haven. (He has a many nicknames and they're growing exponentially. That's only a slight exaggeration.)

This is what it looked like to my mommy eyes.

I parked facing an emerald tinted grassy area, pulled Lando out of the seat of apparent torture, and nursed him while we pondered why April weather cannot be summer weather and the dulcet smell of freshly mowed grass. Once he was properly comforted and I knew it was impossible for his belly to be slightly empty, I hurried to put him in his car seat and get back on the road. I had assignments to turn in and only minutes to do them. (Life on the dangerous side, I know.)

And that's when The Man approached. He did the usual "Ma'am, ma'am, maaaaa'aaam" routine, which I ignored, per my usual fear of strange humans in parking lots. But he kept walking towards me, so I spun around and quite obviously looked for a weapon. I think I settled on my laptop cord, which I planned to use as a lasso/smacking device. He finally stopped a reasonable distance away from me and this conversation occurred.

Stranger Danger: "Do you think someone could catch a ride with you to Wal Mart?"
-Wal Mart is 4-5 miles down the freeway-
Susie's brain: So you can murder me and kidnap my adorable child? I think not!
Susie's mouth. "No, no I'm sorry. I can't today."
SD: "Ok, I get it. You have a kid."
SB: What a lovely person, not Stranger Danger at all. He gets it. 
He then starts to walk away, only to spin back around to continue the riveting dialogue.
SD: "Even if it was a girl?"
SB: Mayyybe--no. Still too close to child. Plus, homework, grades, graduation. 
SM: "I'm sorry. I really can't. I have assignments and I need to get home."
SD: "It's only four miles up the road."
SB: Oh no. He looks dangerous again. Summon mother bear scariness. 
SM: "I'm sorry. I REALLY need to get home."
SD: "One day YOU might be stranded on the side of the road."

And with that mildly karmic threat, he walked off, I finished buckling in the babe, and peeled out. Poor man and traveling companions, broken down at a rest stop and the only car around is piloted by a protective mother bear. Is there a non-creepy/scary way to as a stranger for a ride?

3. 

For the first few weeks of his life, Landon was all about the fist pump. Now, he holds his fist in boxer pose. It's even more adorable as it sounds. I haven't captured it on iphone camera because he's a genius at stopping his new tricks once the phone comes out.
But.
He's not the only one fist pumping these days.
Senior seminar is over in one week.
Other classes in three. Or less, if I want to be extra productive.
Whenever I think about graduating, finishing, completing my undergrad, I can't help but throw up a fist pump.
 I'm sure everyone knows just what made my collegiate journey so intense, but in case there's a bloggy lurker, here's the tale of the 40 grand in student loans I'll never pay and just what that journey cost me.

4. And for the few brave souls who made it this far, I have a deep question of the universe for you. If I retire this blog and start afresh, will you be my bloggy followers? And on the off chance someone agrees to the first question, what topics should I clutter the interwebz with? Probably none. But I do love to overshare!

I fail at Philippians 2:3

Oh, yes. I have a blog, that I never wanted to turn into only a baby update center. Woops.

I really wanted to write more--I did. Stories, ideas, arguments--they would all flood my mind. But then I'd fall asleep, or find an assignment, or just forget. There were other posts, too. Sad posts, heavy posts, introspective posts. One of those escaped the draft folder and is somewhere in the archives. If you can find it, read it, and determine just exactly what I'm talking about, then delicious imaginary cookies for you.

And ramble et al.

However,  most posts never were written. But this year is bringing so much change to my life--a  baby, a degree, some temporary heartache--it's all bringing the fulfillment of so many of my obsessive goals.

I've worked really hard to graduate debt free. Really hard. So hard that I talk far too much about it. I use it in job interviews, and talk about it in "class introductions". It's an absurdly important part of my life. This is not to say that I regret sharing my experiences or writing "how tos" because I truly think it's important for young people to know that there is another way. Rather, though, I'm glad this period of life is coming to an end. I'm thankful that I can focus intensely on something else. My education isn't ending--I still want a teaching credential and grad school looks so enticing. But I'll take it slower. The cost is lower and, while I'll be frugal and pay with cash, the intensity will be funneled elsewhere. I hope.

Intensity and goals: mountains, duh. Plus, picture of Mt. Shasta, which is a shout out to northern California. 

The problem is: I like being that girl. The one who does so much and causes others to look...slow. I have a problem with glorifying being busy. It's a form of type A personality, a need to do so much. It's a form of ego--I can do this much. It's a form of that cardinal sin: pride--look how much I can do.

It starts innocently enough, but then it grows into something more sinister. Ironically, the thing most people people probably most I'm prideful about (debt free degrees) is the thing that I'm probably least prideful about. Proud of it? Naturally. Prideful, in that Biblical sin way? Not really. It's been a hard, exhausting road. The current climate makes it seem impossible. I only began the journey because I had to. And I finished it because I was too obstinate to quit.

No, it's weird things like being too busy with work and school to do much else. It's difficulties like having my husband  gone for a painfully long time this year. It's trying so hard to not be pregnant and hinder the day's work at my job that I come home sick and out of breath. Yet deep down, I'm proud of those things. It's absurd, really.

I'm driven by ego, by the desire to be more than mediocre, to stand out, but I still avoid perfection (because perfectionists annoy me). I don't regret working hard and going to school. I don't regret doing my job well, even when my body was screaming. (Well, kinda. Ouch.) I don't regret gearing myself up mentally for an emotionally arduous year. (Although, if this year would go by quickly, then muchos gracias from the depths of my heart.)

However, for 2014 I'm going to focus intently on--

Stopping the idolization of busyness, of hardship, of trials. 
 I won't stop working, struggling, and thanking God for pulling me through. But I'm going to work on minding my ego (before it smacks me in the face) and relishing the beautiful parts of life, too.
I don't want to change my personality. I like being busy. I like working hard. I like finding difficult goals. But I want to find a balance along the way. But I'm supposed to find peace from God in the busyness. Solace in Him in hardship. I'm supposed to find His love and grace amid the trials. Instead, I too often just dig deeper and find another root of stubborn ambition to propel me forward. I'm a rather obtuse learner, it would seem.
Because, when I focus on the moment--like the fact that the 36 week gestated baby inside of me is poking me continuously--instead of how I'll achieve less this year than I wanted to--I'm happier. (Note to self: dear, stop with the dash marks. You're scaring everyone.) I'm at peace. And I'm thankful.

For others who are driven by ego and ambition, how do you balance goals with pride? How do you find the medium between narcissism and consciously teaching others?



Ahem, Susie... (Philippians 2:3) Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.

A letter to Milsos Everywhere

Milso: "Someone who is a significant other to someone who is the military. This phrase is extremely popular on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest."
TA: Tuition Assistance
BAH: Basic allowance for housing
Note: Since I'm married, I'm writing this in the husband/wife context. However, replacing the terms with others, ie, (fiancee, boyfriend) will work just as well.

Dear Milso Sisters,

I'm writing this because we children of the late 20th/early 21st centuries are ever so spoiled and we show it. I'm writing this because I'm tired of being embarrassed by my so called peers. But mostly, I'm so proud of those of you who are being amazing each and every day. I want to encourage you.

First, I want to admit that we all have our bad days years. There are periods in every person's life when he/she is selfish and acts like an idiot. Sometimes, no matter how much we love our S/Os, we do stupid, selfish things. I include myself ever so heartily in this confession.

Now on to the crux....

There's a difference between whining and needing encouragement. A difference between extended self pity and having a bad day. A difference between playing the martyr and being long-suffering.

Moving 

When we insist that we cannot deal with being moved away from our families, our current homes, or jobs because the military decided to send our husbands elsewhere, we are being ridiculous. Yes, it can be painful, exhausting, traumatic, and not fun whatsoever. But we shouldn't act surprised. That's something that's a given in military life (and lot of adult life in general). Moving is not something we get to be martyrs about. Not at all. No, you won't get to always live by your parents or your family. But did you really expect to?
You SHOULD miss your family, long for that community, and save for visits. That's healthy, wonderful, and a total blessing. Enjoy the adventure of stepping out of your home area into a different place. You get to explore the United States and even the  world. Enjoy it.

Money

While the majority of milsos understand that moving comes with military service, there's a complaint that's far too common in milso land: money. Money is annoying. It's stressful. It's too easy to spend and hard to get back. However, don't claim to be POOR just because your husband works for the government. Yes, I said it. Enough with the poor rants. In fact, don't even dream of it unless you have children. Children are expensive. They require a host of different things, can keep mamas from going to work, and they can increase a family's expenditures by a lot. Some of you live in extremely expensive areas, so money is stretched tighter and money complaints from you are legitmate.   So milsos with kiddos and/or those living in high priced areas, you have an exemption, a default clause. However, don't over use it because....

In non-military land, a person's employer doesn't pay for a person's housing. I know, I know, it's shocking. There's no BAH floating around in non-military land. As for insurance, that is freaking expensive. Some jobs offer it, some jobs provide it for a pricey fee for dependents, but it's not a given. As for you young milsos (like myself), do you know what most twenty one year olds make it the private sector? Not much.
 And don't forget, the military will pay for your loved one's college through TA and the GI bill. College is insanely expensive now days, but your husband has a job that, if used correctly, could completely pay for his college.
To recap, you have a house that's paid for, insurance without hefty premiums, and a bundle of tuition money. Please remember those your age floating out in the private sector without all those things and lower paying jobs.

When your husband is gone...

If your husband is deployed, I will hold your hand [figuratively and literally], feed you ice cream if needed, listen to your pain, tell you look adorable because he can't see you, and constantly pray for you. You, dear sister, are being so brave. If he's gone, on a non-deployment issue, I'll do the same things. Separation is painful. So painful. It is difficult. It is emotionally trying. It is exhausting.
I've no tough love for this instance. Only the reminder to be thankful. Thankful that we live in a world where husbands don't leave for the duration--with only a few letters in their absence. Thankful that we live in a world where there might be a skype conversation or two. Thankful that we live in a world with dozens of mediums that we can use to connect with others going through the same pain. Remember: you are not alone. You are not the only one. You can call people at 1 AM because you hate being alone in a
house in the middle of the night. (Call me!!)  Remember the women that came before you.

When the conflict is irrational

Your husband doesn't get to decide where he'll be sent or if he'll enter a war that many people don't support. His job is to be a good servicemember and do what he is told. You don't have to support the war, or the idea of war. You just have to support your husband. He is doing his duty, so support him.

Discounts

You are not entitled to a discount at every single establishment. If a restaurant offers a military discount and only for the servicemember, say thank you and be happy that your S/O is being honored that way. Do not say that certain places should offer high discounts because they're so expensive. And never, ever, ever act offended if someone says they don't have a military discount. (Unless they are rude. In that case, do your thing.)

Blame
Don't blame the military for every problem in your life. Your husband's job may make certain things much harder, but ultimately, it's up to the two of you to work on your relationship. Does your husband's position keep him working holidays? Mine does! But don't blame the military and act the martyr for it. Lots of jobs make their employees work through the holidays. Instead, encourage your S/O and thank him for working holidays. Plan holidays around his days off. Be his biggest fan and cheerleader.

And finally, remember that your husband is more than his job. Your relationship is more than his job. Your life is more than that. Be thankful that he has a career, that you have a home and insurance, and that you're making it through another day of this crazy life.

P.S. 
If you want to date or marry a guy just because he wears a uniform, you're what's known as a tag chaser. You're not a milso, just a girl who goes after guys because of what they wear to work.

Stay Calm & Graduate & Sarah Palin's Influence

I wanted this. Badly. I graduated high school in May 2009, and began college in January of 2010. There's nothing I want more than to graduate 2013. 

I only have eight more classes to take.

The finish line is in sight.

Unfortunately, I'll have to walk the rest of the way.

My goal of a debt-free private education has been a twisted path

--Four different colleges

--Four different education plan

--A few partial semesters

--The passionate search for a job to support my  private school tuition habit

I made a vow that I could not go to school unless I had a job.

That meant only taking six units in the four months after I was married (semester).

It meant taking fewer than 18 units some semesters, so that class (hours)  would not interfere with work (hours).

It meant making my sharp mind walk, when it yearned to sprint. 

I have the classes I want.

I just have to wait for them.

My school's selection is narrow.

My minor small. 

So I have to wait 'til Spring 2014 to graduate.

And not just early Spring

So I can claim a December 13 graduation

But May. 

I've been feeling down about this. Searching for the bright side.

It'll be easier to pay.

Saddened that this journey wont be ended for another year.

Feeling slow, dumb, uninspired. 

And then I read a post by Sarah Palin.

I know many dislike her; others worship her.

I know she made dumb statements in 2008

But they all did.

Yes, she was vague as to the VP's job.

But she would have learned.

She would have provided freshness and estrogen

To the old, testosterone-locked masses.

I admire her for holding her children to what is right,

For making them admit when they are wrong,

For working through Alaska's political system,

&

For graduating college debt free.

See, she had to take extra time (five years) to graduate.

She had to go to school, intern, and work to pay for school.

Going a little slower made it so there was enough hours in the day.

She did it. By herself. Debt Free.

Just like I want to. 

I'm reminded that it's not my lack of brainpower that makes time spent in school 4.5 semesters.

It's not my poor abilities, or weak resolve.

It's my goal, my golden obsession, my utter desire,

To graduate debt-free.

To prove that it is possible, attainable, and yes, difficult

In this ridiculous world 

of hyper-inflated tuition.

I am going to do it!

There will no 90 grand in debt for me.

Only stories, newly found strength, and incredible resolve.

Oh, and a diploma. 

Sarah Palin reminded me of what I'm fighting for,

It's more than a piece of paper.

It's more than an education.

It's more than being fiscally "responsible".

I'm fighting for the right to say 

NO!

I do not have to take out 40, 50, 90 thousand dollars in loans

For a piece of paper.

I can work, fight, slave, and cry.

I will find a different method.

My degree will be mine 

&

I will not be indebted to anyone.

I'm fighting against a system,

That charges 17 year olds tens of thousands of dollars

For something they're told is essential.

For an experience they've idolized and believe is necessary,

For the luxury of academic learning beyond high school,

I'm fighting the system.

Some cannot graduate without loans from a private institution--

It's impossible.

I'm fighting for them, too.

I'm fighting for the music major with 90 thousand in student loans.

I'm fighting for the psychology major with 50 thousand.

I'm fighting for the middle class kids who can't afford an education.

I'm fighting for all of us. 

I wanted to be a woman who wore dress suits,

Who spoke in the political arena,

Who was strong, collected, and admired (even hated).

Perhaps I still will be.

But first, I must graduate

And prove,

That it's still possible.

Stay Calm

And Graduate

Debt Free

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Why I Major in English & I'm Happy about It

No, not because I want to save the dying race of tangible libraries.

We're actually that cool.

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As a homeschooled kid, I didn't have a "first day of school" in a classroom until I was sixteen years old and a junior in high school. Naturally, the world of lockers, due dates, and seemingly pointless rules (I really can't chew gum and I HAVE to wear shoes?!) seemed exotic and adventurous to my eager self.

I remember the first time I sat down in a classroom. I set my books on the table, surveyed the class, did a double take, and made that epic, mortifying discovery many students have made: wrong classroom

My fair, freckled skin turned a bright rose and I scurried from the classroom, and eventually found the right classroom. I sat down with relief and tried to figure out what to do with my pen besides chew on it. 

And I remember the first time I felt at home in a classroom. It was in Mrs. Huff's junior English class at Bob Jones Academy and we carted hardback American Lit books to the classrooms, where we sat with rapt attention and soaked in a world comprised of words, stories, themes, and brilliant authors. At least I did. I was in heaven. Three thousand miles away from my childhood home in bucolic fields of northern California, I had found a niche at a conservative Christian prep school in South Carolina. My peasant skirts, two toned Mary Janes, trendy, fitted zip up hoodies, and fly away curls set me apart from my immaculately attired peers. But my love and understand of Hawthorne, Poe, and Thoreau drew them to that smart girl from California--me. 

I never wanted to leave Mrs. Huff's class. The bell that signified the end of the period was more like a funeral  dirge for my eager mind. I wished for English class to happen six times a day. 


It was then that I decided an English degree might be in my future. 

My first semester of college started a semester later than I had always planned, as I stayed home to work the first semester.

It was much easier than my advisers warned, and my distracted self was delighted to turn in the weekly paper or project instead of the daily homework.

It was also not quite as fun as I had dreamed and vastly more expensive than I had ever imagined, and the idealistic teenager, who had dreamed of days of English classes slowly faded in the background.

Work became my passion, as I sought creative ways to pay exorbitant tuition rates. 

Reading luxuriously, as I delved deeper into the works of the masters, and thinking inquisitively and ingeniously  became a privilege of the past. Homework was something done quickly when there was a spare moment, papers written furiously--with no thought given of impressing the professor. Completion and and a reasonable grade became my goal.  I began to wonder why I had ever decided to major in English. Where was my future?

It was Milton who brought me back. Milton and my hefty anthology of African American literature. I'd studied Paradise Lost in high school, and liked it as well as any seventeen year old with a knack for reading and a penchant for literary analysis. In my upper division classes college class, however, Milton was explored in a bright array of different lights. He was peeled back contextually, challenged theologically, and I carried Paradise Lost in my right hand and the Cambridge Companion to Milton in my left. I began to feel as if I knew and understood Milton--or at least a tiny facet of his mind. The Milton of my high school English classes was just snippet of the Milton of my Seventeenth Century British Authors class, which of course barely tapped the surface of the gold mine of Milton genius. 

I gazed at my anthologies and dreamed of the day I could share these fascinating ideas with my high school students, people who existed clearly and vividly in my mind's eye. 

I began to feel a kinship with that sixteen that felt at home in Mrs. Huff's English class.

But it wasn't just the author who penned an epic work while blind, who rekindled my love affair with English classes. It was the courageous, articulate, and passionate authors found within the pages of my chunky, dilapidated copy of The Norton Anthology of African American Literature. I discovered the authors living in those pages numbered more than Washington and DuBois, but as I read those two in context, I admired their skill, the quality of their debate, and the hopes they imbued in their writing. I met Equiano, Wheatley, McKay,  and Hansberry and became instant fans of their spirit, erudition and passion. I ached to become Locke's student and dissect his works. I listened to the cries of Malcolm X. and Dr. King, and pondered why history moved so slowly in some areas of freedom. I cried with Morrison,heard Angelou sing, and realized that the span and depth of American literature was much deeper and richer than Realists versus Transcendentalists.  I ached to share this new found knowledge with younger members of my generation and future generations. 

Suddenly, my syllabi became a launching point for lectures that I would pontificate upon to my future students. Daily experiences became anecdotes to be shared with bored  high school students on an off day. The spark that had been kindled in my sixteen year old heart and mind became a crimson and orange wildfire in my jaded college student heart. 

I remembered why I wanted to major in English, to teach it, to insure that the works collected over the past hundreds of years remain intact and read by future generations. I majored in English because I love it. I will teach English because I am passionate about it. I will share it because erudition--in the sense of the writers who have helped shaped our history--is a worthy cause. 

Yes, I chose a major everyone loves to mock as being a freeway to poverty--and rightly so. But because of  my near-obsession not taking out loans, prowess in editing papers, and penchant for elucidating the the works of authors from Hawthorn to O'Connor to my confused peers, I'm well on my way to a career of dashing high school egos with a red pen. 

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The Forty Grand in Student Loans I'll Never Pay

It's another post about money and school, but also about a mother's gift to her daughter and Jehovah Jireh.
It's my story and tribute of how my mother saved me forty grand in student loans. 40 grand that I'll never have to pay and what I was given instead--because of the lessons of my mother and the provision of my Heavenly Father.

Carpe diem
The story starts when I was a cute and naive 17  year old high school senior, perusing through financial aid packages and seeing the cheerful student loan amounts that promised me a bright future--or at least a seat in one of the 40-50 classes college students take to complete a bachelor's degree. The future was before me, and the day mine to seize if I only signed the dotted line. I also needed my mother's signature. I brought the papers to her nonchalantly. It was, after all, only a signature. She needed to, in every day terms, be a co-signer to my student loans. I brought the papers and the pen; all she needed to do was sign her name.

Refusal
She turned me down. She told me she wouldn't help me take out my loans. I translated it as she wouldn't help me jump-start my future. I thought she was ruining my life. I waved the paper around excitedly, begging, crying, insisting it was only five thousand.
"A semester," my mother corrected.
Five thousand a semester, multiplied times eight semesters equaled 40 thousand dollars. 40 thousand dollars in student loans, owed by a (future) 22 year old.
I pleaded with her. It's private. It's Christian. It's my degree. It's my life. I can't go to school without these. I can't find 40 thousand.

Awakening
I was wrong, very wrong.
Three years later (today), I planned out how I was going to pay for my remaining classes. (I have about three semesters left since I haven't started this current one yet.) I decided to brave it and calculate how much I will have spent in my own money in tuition, fees, and books.
By the time I have my bachelor's degree, that number will be about 25 grand.
Then, I decided to count my blessings calculate how many "extras" I've gathered so far from using words, both spoken and written.
Currently, it's about 10 grand.
Add in the year I spent at community college for the sole purpose of saving money, and I found my 40 grand.

40 grand in student loans that I'll never pay.
25 thousand of it from wages earned over the years. 10 thousand of it from speaking opportunities, Forensics trophies, and a noteworthy scholarship I won with my writing.
And 5 grand (plus!!!) saved  from a year spent at a community college, even though I swore I would never do that.

Soapbox

When I started out on my quest to find the 40 grand I couldn't borrow, I wasn't aware of the techniques at my disposal, or how overrated general education classes at a private school really are. I didn't know about CLEP tests. I didn't think about how living at home while going to a state school and working in my home town/area was an option. I just knew I needed to find that 40 grand that I wasn't going to get in student loans.I did it in a way more expensive and less efficient way than is possible. (Which explains my soapbox and why I'm constantly talking about better ways.)

But I still did it. 

I didn't find this 40 grand because I was poor. That was already factored into my financial aid package. The 40 grand in student loans was the remainder of my bill after financial aid.
My mom refusing to sign that dotted line not only saved me 40 grand in student loans but gave me priceless opportunities.

Priceless

I was blessed to be able to work in a home for the elderly, where I developed fast, beautiful friendships with some of the most amazing people I'll ever meet. I became tender-hearted towards the plight of the aged, aware of the epidemic of Alzheimers, and grew more in love with a population that I had before ignored.

I was given an expenses-paid trip to Las Vegas, and the opportunity to share my family's story, touch people's lives, and raise awareness on the difficulties of losing a parent/spouse/household provider.

I was able to hone my public speaking skills and develop the life-long confidence to speak before crowds of people easily.

I was able to grow a close-knit relationship with my siblings, and fall in love with the people God had blessed  me by allowing me to call family.

I was able to buy my own car--and pay for it in full as a college student. I had the funds to pay for my own insurance, gas, cell phone bill, and all other bills, while being able to treat my family to dinner, groceries, and Christmas/birthday presents, and I was a poor college student.

I was able to get married earlier than I might have AND not burden my new marriage with the presence of thousands, upon thousands of student loans.

I am able to pursue my degree in the economically unsound field of writing, a concentration that I am passionate about and truly love. I can pursue my degree and know that I will graduate without 40 grand of debt, and not worry about my potential career paying off my student loans.

My husband and I will be able to have children sooner (God willing) than we would have--had I owed 40 grand in student loans--because I won't have to work years upon years to pay off 40 grand in loans before we have children.

Lesson
At seventeen I thought my mom was ruining my life, or at least depriving me of opportunities. At twenty one I  see the adventures had, lesson learned, dreams achieved, and life blessed by my mother's refusal. My mother didn't ruin my life: she gave me a better one.

I was slated to owe 40 grand in student loans. Now, there's 40 grand in student loans I'll never pay. Not everyone can go through college debt-free, but everyone can whittle down the amount of loans they take out.  It's not based on income level or family size, but on diligence and willingness. This isn't supposed to be a post lauding my debt-free degree, but a post showing how I lost 40 grand in loans, and how others can make their futures brighter and their loans smaller.

Tribute
My mother instilled in me the knowledge of the power of prayer and emulated a strong, vibrant faith in God. She taught me how to work, and educated me so that I would have a quick mind. God blessed me with a mother akin to the Proverbs 31 woman. He gave me the ability to learn, strength to work, and provided opportunities for me that I could have never imagined. I thank God for my mother who deprived me of the 40 grand in student loans that I'll never have to pay, and gave me priceless experiences in return, and the God who is truly the Father to the fatherless.

Ten Things I wish I'd Known in High School, Part 2

Here is part two of my long, list-filled, sermonizing post :)

If you didn't read the first post, or forgot (it was very long) all the ideas I mentioned in the first one, I would definitely advise going back and reading it. I know I have read it around ten times already :)

Step 6: B.U.D.G.E.T (six letters ;)
Budget your money: Many, many students forget that when they go to college, they are going to want spending money. Frankly, spending money for anything 'fun' is not a necessity. It almost but not quite. However, most people consider it a necessity, and therefore, it will be addressed.
Have a budget, 15, 20, 30 dollars a week can easily cover a student's for fun needs.
I can hear the sputtering complaints already. Notice I said for-fun, that does not include books or school supplies. 15 bucks a week seems impoverished, but 15xs4=60 and cutting back on starbucks (buy a coffee maker), excessive candy or snacks, (you'll regret it), going out to the movies, (a rare treat), and shopping expeditions (80 percent off rack) really make it feasible.
Such a small budget can really help put money better places, like tuition!
Obviously, each student is different, and some students work nearly full time, and can afford or choose to have a larger budget. When I worked full time, I know I did :) But 15 bucks a week also worked when I had an extremely strained budget.

Books: amazon, chegg, if possible, DON'T BUY FROM THE BOOKSTORE!!! Research :)

Budget your time Advisors generally tell students not to take a full load of classes, and often students take 12 or 15 units when they can easily take 18. Taking a full load of classes every semester, for seven semesters equals 127 units, around the same number needed to graduate at most (two semester a year) schools. Adding to that number a few CLEP or AP classes and a student can easily graduate in 7 semesters. This works very, very well for students who have to/or really want to live in the dorms for their entire collegiate career.

Another absolutely brilliant way of budgeting time is to choose classes that can be double, even triply, crosslisted. Meaning, they can count for core/general ed and major or minor classes. I know of a student who double majored in two rigorous majors AND has a minor, while working full time and going to a prestigious school. She'll easily graduate in 8 semesters, without even CLEPping out of any classes. She's going to have an impressive resume.

It's quite doable, but again, research is key.

And you thought the hefty research didn't start until junior year.

Step seven: There are seven days in the week. Yes, really. Unlike high school, college students don't have to go to school five days a week between 7-3. There are many, many more options and combinations for classes. In fact, an adept scheduler can make time for both school and lots of work. A person can pay tuition, cut student loans, provide for themselves by working (and working a lot) while going to school. It's important to fill the days of the week, and not just relegate weekends to fun and homework. Students claim they don't have time to work. But they do. Of course, some majors have less time, ie, nursing, or a complicated music major, but even music and nursing majors work. The key to being able to work in college is understanding that you should, that you need to. It's about time management, writing a paper in 2 hours instead of six because you have two hours. I assure you, it can be done.
The students who think that they don't have time for work are the students who don't work. Those that are working understand that they do have time. They have found it.

Homework becomes less of an issue when one is working. It takes less time, and ins't on the forefront of a student's mind.

Step eight: It's going to get aggravating.(Hey, it rhymes..)
It really does. I'm almost finished with my fifth semester and my desire to do another semester would be a negative on a chart of integers. Why??? College is just a lot of papers and tests and more papers, and if it becomes your life, it will drive you crazy.
The solution: be involved in other things. Enjoy your job, friends, family, volunteer work, anything that makes it seem that college is just a part of your life and not the whole. I'm preaching to myself here, as well. I'm so ready to be through with this, and I'm still three semesters from my B.A. Once I have my diploma, I am going to dance around with it on my head, and then carefully frame it since it's worth thousands of dollars.

Step Nine Mine is...What? What will your major be.
Tere are many, many, countless, a plethora [insert your favorite synonym] of elements to consider.
-Desired income level
-Natural aptitude
-Devotion to one's studies
-And so many others..

Income level Does your major make sense.. Does your desired career make sense. Is it even possible to reach it and make the desired income?

Note, as an English major who thinks literary analysis is dreary and is not planning on becoming an erudite professor of Literature, my career-path is going to be exciting and creative--just like me!

What are you "good" at? Don't just answer this question with what your favorite subject was in school (again, just a bit of hypocrisy coming from an English major) but your talents, what you enjoy.

I always thought all nursing students had to be good at Chemistry. In reality, they're just good at taking care of people. I realized too late I loved caring for people, and would've made a great nurse.

Devotion to one's studies: Do you skate by with low A's in the classes you feel like doing homework in, B's in the ones you don't, an the rare C when a calamity hits? Or are you studious and do your homework early, and always come out with A's? Examine your major, and see what level of devotion it requires. Again, English majors, not that much--aside from the occasional professor-in-training.

Step ten: THINK
Think through the implications of going to one school over another, of taking out loans, or not taking out loans, of living in the dorms, versus living elsewhere, of five thousand versus ten thousand dollars, of studying Flannery O'Connor versus the Pathology of Diseases...
Remember that you are young, strong, and vital. Enjoy this time and give back. Don't surround yourself with only your peers, but reach out to people of different ages. Build up your resume through hard, simple work, and never, ever let college define who you are.

Good habits made in youth make all the difference.
Aristotle

And one last reminder...Never forget the skills of Google

10 Things I wish I'd Known in High School, Part 1

Yes, it's another Susie talking about college post BUT if you're in high school, or have a high school student, or have a child, etc... This could be helpful.

In high school all I knew about college was that I wanted to go and I would learn. Something.

That's akin to saying that urban southern California traffic will be different than rural northern California traffic. It's true, but very vague and not particularly helpful.

Then I graduated high school and looked at the fine print on my financial aid package and saw total college just under 40 grand per year.

It would have been super helpful and awesome to have a bit of a heads up.

Three years later and five semesters (almost) completed, I've eked out my own collegiate journey, watched my peers, and assisted my siblings. And frankly, the looming C monster is easily vanquished if proper steps are taken in high school.

Step one. Don't apply to just ONE college. Yes, it's great to have dreams and goals--especially goals--but setting one's heart on only one school can be devastating. Apply to between 2-7, depending on the major, goals, life plans. It'll make it so much easier when the dream school doesn't work out and gives you financial options.

Step two: Don't be "too" big for your britches. (Slang, Susie? Really...) Tacky way of putting it, yes, but the concept is still excellent. You are never as awesome as you think you are. Young people especially struggle with this. Don't assume colleges will just hand you money, or good grades, even though the recruiting manuals make it seem that way... They just want the 40 grand.

Step three: You can take the SAT three times, and I would recommend using at least two of the three. There are three sections of the SAT: mathematics, writing, and critical reading, and your highest score in each category from every time you take the test is recorded. Your best scores get sent to colleges. Personally, I would advise students should take the SAT once sophmore, junior, and senior years. Many students find themselves having forgotten the information on the mathematics section by the later years, but a decent study of literature and language really helps on the critical reading section. As for the writing part, I scored very well both times and still am not sure what criteria is used. The SAT can be weird that way.

Also, the best way to study for the SAT is to just take it. I did better on two out of three sections my second time, and got to keep my higher score on the third from my first try. :)

Step four: It doesn't have to take four years.
In high school, I always assumed that I would graduate from high school and four years later graduate from college, having attended the same school for all four years. Oh to be that naive... Really, college can be shorter or longer than four years. I don't en
courage or advise taking longer than 8 semesters but unlike high school and under, college semesters do not have to be 8 consecutively.

I ended up taking the semester immediately following graduation "off" from school and working. It kept me out of debt and that job I worked taught me far more lessons than I have learned in school so far.

But...there are times (most of the time) that I wish I could be finished with my bachelor's, or have only a semester or two left.

ClEP., A.P., Concurrent enrollment. These phrases all mean WAY CHEAPER COLLEGE CREDIT!!!!

As in nearly free, or at the most, 90 bucks a test (class). Students at schools that offer A.P. classes should jump (literally, jump and run to the registar's office) and try to take these classes. A fairly average load of 4 A.P. classes completed could equal 12 units (if the students passes the test) of college credit, that also doubles as high school credit.
This is an incredible option for students who go to schools that offer these classes.
ClEP tests: essentially the student takes a test that covers an entire semester's class on a certain subject. There are many, many subjects in the CLEP test realm--nearly everything for general education--and they can cost around 90 bucks for a test. (To put that in perspective, that same class would cost me $1,600 at school.)

Students can study for the CLEP test using the handy-dandy CLEP test study guide for [insert subject] that stores like Barnes & Noble carry. Or...students who have taken solid high school courses in those subjects can elect not to study. Obviously, some subjects will be easier than others.

Concurrent enrollment:the gist of it is that high school students can attend community college for high school and college credit, free of tuition fees. Many, many people (especially homeschoolers) love this idea and it has worked well for many families. The downside is...it's hard to get in classes, especially in California's impacted community colleges, and concurrent enrollment kids are only on the waitlist. They're not allowed to "register" until after the first day of class--if the class is even open.
Another issue, is the absolute profanity there. Sending an innocent fourteen year old to a community college, where the girl sitting next to him will be high, and the guy on the other side will be profane at best...is an issue for many parents. Certain classes can be very helpful in the concurrent enrollment setting--such as math classes, public speaking classes (those tend to be disgusting, though), etc.

My younger brother has earned a semester of college credit already (he's sixteen and graduating in May) and he's used a combination of CLEP tests and concurrent enrollment classes. It has worked well for him, given him experience, and will ultimately save him time and money.
Step five: I can't think of a way to incorporate five into this idea...I apologize.
Financial aid packages lie. Well, perhaps would suffice to say they're written deceptively. But they pretty much lie. If it looks too good to be true, it probably is. Yes, I just succumbed to a cliche, but it's so concise. Colleges love to be sneaky and they write loans as "aid." A loan is a necessary evil. It is not a free pass. It is not a gift. Taking out five, ten, fifteen thousand dollars a year in student loans is extremely risky. Sometimes, they work out well and students pay them off relatively soon, but often students are unable to pay their debt, and giving that burden to an idealistic seventeen year old seems borderline unethical.

Of course, sometimes it is absolutely necessary to take out loans for school. In such cases, RESEARCH the types of loans, the lenders, and way to minimize the amount being borrowed. The worst route a student can take is blindly accept loans, having no idea of the possible consequences. Also, paying them back AS SOON AS POSSIBLE is a fabulous idea. Don't waste time or money if you have loans. Pay them back! Pay them back! You don't want to have to become an "occupier" holding a sign, complaining... Pay them off and you will not be THAT twenty five year old.

Check to see how much you're actually getting in scholarships, grants, loans, etc, then compare that to the final amount. Check to see what tuition and room and board actually is. Sometimes schools include items like books and travel expenses in loan amounts, which is just an awful idea.
Finally, don't trust them. It's the financial aid department's job to make money stretch as far as possible--not save you money. If necessary, make appeals, set irate parents on them, go in and cry, but never just accept the aid without thorough study. As of this date, I've never seen a documented case of a male crying in a financial aid office. It tends to be a female method.


Five out of ten means I'm half way finished and the next five are going to be in part 2. These are by no means hard and fast axioms of college, just things, ideas, and practices I've learned and noticed in my years since high school. I'm publishing these points because I would have loved if someone had done the same for me in high school.


This post is dedicated to my younger siblings. May you succeed where I failed, save money where I spent, walk in the light where I stumbled, and always know of my love for you and of your Heavenly Father's love.
"Education is not the filling of the pail, but the lighting of the fire."
Yeats

Cal Grant A- An Investment

The state of California and I have never been friends. I attribute that to growing up with a father who detested most forms of government, but I eventually realized that not all government is evil. Which is good, considering the family I'm marrying into.

However, the state of California, well specifically, Jerry Brown, (that man has been governor far too many times) has officially made me mad. They are threatening something that is very dear to me, and I will not let them take it easily.

Cal Grant A. For those of you who still think that all financial aid is called The Fafsa, allow me to explain.

The FAFSA is a form that you fill out using your parents' (and your own) taxes to see if you qualify for financial aid to attend college. If you do, you are awarded a series of awards, based on your EFC or "estimated family contribution". The estimated family contribution of my family is $0.00. Yep, we're pretty broke. That pretty much means the nice people FAFSA people realize that my mom doesn't have a single penny to contribute to my education. They got something right! However, schools still make you take out (or scrounge for) thousands of dollars worth of loans to bridge the gap between scholarships, financial aid, and birthday money. Or whatever. The point is, low income students who fill out the FAFSA don't get free rides. Their financial aid letters are written to seem that way, but it doesn't work that way.

So for those of you bemoaning your lack of FAFSA, two things. A). Get your terms straight. B). Next time you use your debit card your parents gave you to access money they gave to put gas in the car they gave you..... Remember, people like myself don't get to do that.

So basically, there are two major awards that the state of California gives people like myself. (Note: you have to have a minimum GPA to qualify, etc...)

Cal Grant A--Which has a MAXIMUM amount of 9,600. It's actually like 9,640 or some random number but $9,600 is cleaner. That means that not everyone who qualifies for Cal Grant A gets that amount. It's people like my family, with those EFCs of $0.00 that get the whole thing. (Actually, this year, my EFC was $600.00 because I gave too many showers at WestHaven and made too much money. Bad, Susie. Shame on you for working. They also took away my insurance. It was wonderful.)

And Cal Grant B--which you can use for four year schools and community colleges. Now, I have no problem with the students who use them for their four years, but too many students who get 4 grand from Cal Grant B waste that money. Seriously. My siblings and I were among the minority at Butte Community College who got a full Cal Grant B package and still worked full time. Most of "my fellow" (they were nothing like me) students there used that money to chill at home and smoke pot. Seriously.

So, it would make sense to cut Cal Grant B for community colleges, since the students are getting an excess of thousands of dollars and using that money to live on and smoke pot, instead of getting jobs!

But that would make too much sense.

So Gov. Jerry Brown is re-elected AGAIN! and decides he wants to help balance the budget. That's a good thing, right.. Yes, it is. Except, he decides to do it in the most Ellsworth Toohey like way.

Not really, but Ellsworth Toohey is a pretty despicable character.

He decides to cut the maximum amount independent, non-profit schools (like Cal Baptist, Simpson, William Jessup, Masters, Biola, Vangaurd, etc) can give their Cal Grant A students in nearly half. That's right. It goes from $9,600 to $5,000. And if this bills go through, it goes effect in the fall of this year. The Fall. Financial Aid awards have already been given, freshmen need to choose their schools now, juniors and seniors can't transfer because they've almost completed their studies, but now they can't pay for school because they've lost almost 10 grand a year.

And what would happen if all the Cal Grant A students transferred to public universities. The already over-crowded, class-dropping schools would explode. It will be mayhem. No one could get classes. Public schools are already telling their students that graduation will take 5 to 6 years instead of 4. Adding thousands of students from private schools will only make that worse.

Jerry Brown doesn't even give us a chance to re-group. Freshmen can't decide to go to different schools, or just CLEP out of everything they can. Sophmores can't do research where to transfer. Juniors and Seniors are completely undone because transferring will be a huge waste of time and money, and extend their collegiate careers for extra years.

Cal Grant A is a huge investment in the future of our economy. At a time when unemployment is in the double digits and blue collar jobs are being eaten up by overseas companies and technology, the workforce of the 21st century has to go to school in order to be able to keep the of the U.S. going. Cal Grant A gives that opportunity to the less fiscally blessed middle class.

There is something we can, though!

http://signon.org/sign/maintain-the-maximum.fb1?source=s.fb&r_by=2503165

Copy and paste this link into the browser of your choice and keep the educational system of CA from collapsing.

In all of the five seconds it takes to sign the petition, you can ensure that our public schools don't explode and completely collapse, that our private schools stay open, and that people like my siblings and I can go to college and keep our economy going.

It doesn't matter if you're a public or private university fan, this bill affects everyone. If students can't go to private schools, it will make the situation in public universities even more difficult. Eventually people will quit going to school. Not find jobs. And our economy will collapse. Make your tax dollars count!

It's not welfare. It's an investment.

Governments have a tendency not to solve problems, only to rearrange them.

RONALD REAGAN

If only...

It's Thursday; I'm on Easter break. Currently, I'm trying to avoid doing my math homework--and any other homework. Which, I will regret, I know.

Sometime this week I need to register for Butte classes, specifically the Psych class I'm hoping to take this summer. I got my Butte stuff in the mail along with my Honors acceptance from CBU. That hurt.

I know that there are people who think that community college is for failures. And yes, there are some people like that there. However, each school, whether it be Harvard or Butte is what you make of it. I intend to take my free education thankfully, and learn as much as possible.

I'm excited about seeing my family again. Last night, while talking to my roomate I realized that I knew the way each of my siblings danced. I think that's rather special. I anticipate growing closer to them this year, and that alone should be a good reason for staying home.

Unfortunately, my homework doesn't have the initiative to do itself, so I will probably find myself completing it.

There, I've written my first blog post, and its utterly boring. ;)