Keeping up with the words in my head

If you've been around me at all, you've heard me talk about how much I love Brene' Brown's book Daring Greatly. It's been so personally meaningful to me, which is an articulate way of saying that Brown calls out my crazy and gives some suggestions on what to do about it.

A little back story. My dad has often used the saying "borrowing trouble" referring to worry. When Trey and I first got married, I borrowed trouble as a hobby. I planned for every single thing in my life to go terribly wrong, mentally prepared myself for the aftermath, and created a step by step process for picking up the pieces. Trey used to remind me over and over again that I was making stuff up to worry about, and he was right.

Recognizing that borrowing trouble was one of my brands of crazy helped me train myself not to do it as often. Through a lot of practice and prayer, I gradually figured out that I absolutely shouldn't worry about things I can't control. I also trained myself to take my mental obsession over something awful and pray constantly about it. I'm not perfect now, but I'd like to think I  mostly kicked the habit.

Nowadays when I worry it's about something I've said or done that may have hurt someone else or caused an unnecessary conflict or just sounded or seemed dumb. I can obsess and second guess my own actions like a pro. For reals.

Enter Daring Greatly. One of the points in the book is that we shouldn't treat ourselves more harshly than we treat others. We shouldn't say things to ourselves that we would never in a million years say to another person. For example, I would never say to someone "Huh. That shirt kind of makes you look like a sausage." I don't remember ever thinking that about another person. But I look in the mirror and hear those words in my head sometimes. (Sorry for the mental image of me as a sausage, but I've got to be real here.)

And so tonight I realized that my adventures in running have been great training for my self-talk. Sometimes this is what happens in my brain: "My legs hurt. This is awful. I can't run. I shouldn't have had that diet coke today. Whatever made me think I can do this."

But I would never, never, never say those things to someone else. I would cheer, high five, and whoop and holler like a wild woman.

What I'm really working on hearing in my brain is more like this: "I have SO got this! I feel great!  Look how far I've come! I bet today is a new distance personal best for me."

Let me tell you what a difference it makes!  Now I catch myself whining in my head and instead sing along to my music (today was "Rockin' the Suburbs" which was hilariously appropriate for my idyllic little neighborhood run on well manicured sidewalks). I imagine that the texts I hear beeping on my phone are friends telling me I'm a great runner. I wave at cars passing by and smile at kids on bikes. I start having fun.

I am 38 years old, and I truly think I'm just now figuring this out. So, of course, my very next thought is "We have to teach the children!" Forgive yourself. Say nice things to yourself. Give yourself a break often...a lot...all the time.

So do it. This week, think about the things you say to yourself. If it's not something you'd say face to face to someone else, then cut it out!  Say something nice instead. It will make a difference in your day. I promise!

By the way, tonight I ran 2.5 miles. That's my longest EVER. And I can't wait to run tomorrow.

A Wanna Be Runner

Since I posted just eight days ago, I've been stuck. For the life of me, I cannot consistently run more than a quarter mile. I simply cannot do it. After every run my shins hurt and I'm tired. Here are the top ten negative thoughts running through my head regarding running (hehe...see what I did there?):

1) Maybe almost 38 is too old to start running.
2) It's because I'm running alone. I can't do this by myself.
3) This is a terrible idea.
4) I can't do this.
5) I should lose 25 pounds and then try again.
6) Do I have asthma?
7) Do I have some kind of weird syndrome that makes my feet land funny when I walk?
8) Stress fractures are a thing. Maybe I have one in my shin. Will my leg eventually just break in half if I keep going on it? I bet that really hurts.
9) What if I'm some kind of medical freak that is incapable of running and as a result running will kill me?
10) I need one of those full body medical scan things before I run again.

Here are the top ten positive things I've thought about running in the last week:
1) It's raining!  I have an excuse not to run today!
2) Praise God that run is over.

(turns out I could only come up with two)

A friend (and marathon runner) has gently reminded me several times that I may be trying to do too much. True to form, I've thought "What? ME?? Do too much? Take things to the extreme? You must be out of your mind!  I would NEVER do that!"

She's probably at least a little bit right. I sometimes think I'm known for my patience professionally, but it's not something I can claim personally. I like to call it "task oriented" because that sounds better that "ridiculously impatient."

Last night I decided I needed to do something different.  What I'm doing worked well a month ago, but I'm stuck and it doesn't work anymore. I needed to change my instructional strategy, if you will. So I downloaded the Couch to 5K app, found a starting point that was a little behind where I felt like I was in my training, and started there. I used it today for the first time (week three, day one), and it felt good.

So I don't know if this will really make me runner, and if it works I have no idea how long it will work, but I'm giving it shot.

And now 2 school related thoughts:
Sidebar: Do engineers and dentists and bus drivers relate everything in their lives to their profession like educators do?

1) All learners begin with different skill levels. Some of them, like me as a runner, start out behind. An instructional strategy may work for them for a while, and they may make great strides, but when a kid is stuck it's our job to recognize it and make a change. Do something different. Try something else. There's no guarantee that the something else will work, but we have to be willing to keep trying until something does work.

2) As a learner, I have two speeds where I'm comfortable: fast and stop. When I felt myself moving too slowly or getting stuck, I just wanted to quit. I made excuses. I thought of rational arguments about why this isn't good for me. A part of me started to believe that this task is impossible for someone like me. Some of our kids will feel this way, and we have to help them see that slow and stuck are okay speeds, too, for a little while. We have to help them find success even if it means backing up -- like today's workout that felt good enough to make me want to run again tomorrow. They need to see progress, and we need to find ways to show it to them.

I'm still a wanna be runner. And maybe when I can finally call myself a runner I'll decide I'd rather be a cyclist or a swimmer or a great nap-taker (that one sounds good!). But at least I'll know I can do it!

I Think I Can. I Think I Can

So I've randomly decided to become a runner.

Last year I became quilter, so I needed something else  to become this year, I suppose. The truth is that I really like doing stuff that's hard. Except when I hate it.

My initial goal was to run two miles without stopping. I am fully aware that for people who run regularly, this is like saying I set a goal of ten jumping jacks. Don't judge.

I started off running moving myself two miles on the treadmill, alternating one minute walking with one minute running. Then I increased to two minutes running, one minute walking. Can I tell you that running for a full two minutes just about killed me? It did. My nose was running faster than my body, and I'm pretty sure the Aerofit folks were standing by with some oxygen or maybe an AED machine. At first it really, really sucked. Did I say really? Well, I meant it.

Then I increased again. Then again. Then one day, accidentally, I ran a whole mile. Shockingly, when it came time for me to walk, I didn't want to. I am ever the planner, controller, scheduler and this was certainly not planned, controlled, or scheduled. I wanted to run, and I felt like I had conquered the world!

(cue reflective music to accompany wise quote)
"Sometimes the best things in life happen spontaneously." ~Stormy Hickman
(end reflective music)

I don't know how much longer it took me to run two miles without stopping on the treadmill, but it wasn't very long. Maybe a week. Off to goal #2: Run two miles outside.

I decided to run on a track because I am severely task oriented and knew I would be able to clearly see how far I had left to run. Also, as a school employee formerly of the high school nature I have access to some tracks because I know some peeps. To the track I went.

It sucked a lot.

I was hot and sweating and tired and good Lord the shin splints! My plan was to run a lap and walk a lap, but that pretty quickly turned into run 200, walk 400, try not to cry, run 200,  "Stormy Gale, you are not a quitter!," walk 200, run 100, walk 400, crawl to car.

I have not been back to the track.

Instead I mapped out a little route around my house that covers 2.5 miles if I do it twice. I began alternating running a quarter mile, walking a quarter mile. I realized immediately that my running pace was too fast. On the treadmill I ran two miles at about an 11 minute pace, and I was running my quarter miles at about a nine minute pace. I knew if I wanted to run for longer stretches I needed to slow down. As much as I tried, I just could not slow down. I was suffering by the end of every run. Also, good Lord the shin splints.

But I'm a resourceful gal. I started icing my shins after every run and applying Pan Away Essential Oils (some new voodoo I'm into). Then I did me some googling and found a web site called JogFM. I used it to make a playlist of songs on my phone that are at an 11 minute mile pace. That was a couple of weeks ago, and since then I have consistently run at a pace between 10:30 and 11:10.

(cue reflective music to accompany wise quote)
"Music can inspire us do things we don't think we can." ~Stormy Hickman
(end reflective music)

I coaxed my sister into running a 5K with me on March 28th, and we agreed that we would walk as much as we needed. It was a great race, and I felt good. We finished in 35:40. I am still super proud of that for my first 5K!

I continued to run 4-5 times the following week.

Then we were in Rice for Easter. Wendy (who, did I mention, is four years younger and four inches taller than me) asked if I wanted to do a 5K Fun Run, and I quickly agreed. The voices in my head were supportive. "I am a 5K rock star, man!  Did you see me last week? I wasn't even last!"

And so on the freezing cold morning of the race, it was freezing cold. In the 40's, I think. Cold. I decided to put my race t-shirt on over my dry fit and under my jacket because I needed the extra layers. Someone announced the pre-race warm-up, so we made our way there. A crazy excited trainer person made us do jumping jacks and high knees and lunges (lunges are from the devil, by the way). I was quickly becoming unmotivated tired angry. "DOES HE KNOW WE HAVE TO RUN AFTER THIS?" I may have said that a little too loudly.

Once the pre-race personal training session was over, they made a couple of announcements. The first was about some giant dogs about half way through the course that would probably bark and chase us "but don't worry they won't bite." The second was about how the county had grated (graded? who knows.) the gravel road the day before, so be careful.

The race began, and Wendy and I ran through the sandy, boulder filled road. I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating, but clearly I do not embellish with these blogs posts. It was like basic training on a rocky beach in the Antarctic.

Wendy didn't want to leave me behind, but I told her it was fine and she took off ahead while I walked. I ran a little in the ditch when it was flat, but mostly I just walked. Good Lord the shin splints. At one point I felt discouraged. The voice in my head said, "You are not a 5K rock star. It was beginner's luck. A fluke. This running business is not for you." Then another voice in my head said, "Shut up, stupid voice. This road sucks. I might injure myself and then how will I run?" I didn't have headphones, but I cranked up my music anyway for all the world to hear, and decided to walk my happy self right on through the whole thing. (I did run at the end because the road was flat and because you have to run through the finish, right?)

On Easter Sunday (the next day), I took the day off from running. By Monday (yesterday), my back was still sore and my shins still screamed, so I took that day off, too, feeling a little defeated.

Then, this afternoon I had a quick conversation with someone I admire a great deal. She's 65 and was encouraging me to sign up for the Aggieland Triathalon. She's registered for four triathlons this year. I told her I'd been running and gave her the short version of my journey so far, and she said, "I'm just not that competitive. I want to enjoy my walks and bike rides." It was a small moment in a small conversation, but it got me.

I came home and ran. I walked a quarter, ran a half, walked a quarter, ran a half, etc. All the while I kept telling myself to stop thinking about shin splints and paces and just enjoy myself. As a result, I ran more than I ever have on this particular course.

Tonight, no shin splints.

I started this whole thing with how I like to do things that are hard. Some people have to do hard stuff because of physical disabilities or learning challenges or whatever else. My mom has MS, and do you know what she does? Yard work. Volunteer work. Raising two grandkids. When things are hard, she keeps going. That's what hard work looks like. I expect it from my children, from my students, and from the staff I have the pleasure of working with. The least I can do is expect it of myself. I can make an effort to find things that are personally challenging and not give up. I can commit to finding joy in the challenge.

So I'm becoming a runner. I'll be 38 in a couple of weeks, and while that's not old I don't ever want to be too old to try something new. I don't ever want to think I can't.

Because I think I can.

Spring Break Mom of the Year

I have been a good mom this spring break. For real. I made throw pillows and cupcakes, cleaned out the garage, took two hikes at a local park and took the kids geocaching twice (okay, one of the hikes was also one of the geocaching things, so I guess I'm double dipping...whatever), started Keaton's quilt, went to TWO Aggie baseball games with the boys, and even bought and arranged new fake flowers in the living room. I'm practically a sitcom.

When I learned that it was supposed to rain all day today I promptly decided that I would be lazy as long as possible. I managed to stay in bed until 1:30 p.m. It was like college (college for people who didn't work full time in college, not my college, but whatever). I did get up to go buy the boys donuts (another reason I'm the mom of the year), but rather than getting dressed I just put a jacket on over my pajamas and went through the drive thru. I got up one other time to heat up a slice of leftover pizza which I then ate in my bed.   I saw Jennifer Garner cry on the Today Show and Michael Strahan get all uncomfortable when Erin Andrews said borderline inappropriate things as his guest host. I played Candy Crush. I read Scary Mommy blogs, including this plea for women to sit when they pee and the hilarious Ten Things I Want to Say to My Gynecologist. I watched a few episodes of my new favorite show The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. It was fantastic.

Until the darn sun came out.

"It's not raining!  Let's go geocaching again!"

I was kind of starting to get a headache from all of the blood in my body being at laying down level for so many hours, so after they begged for five minutes (or maybe 45 minutes, I wasn't really paying attention), I decided to pull myself out of bed and defend my self-imposed title of Spring Break Mom of the Year.

We got on our bikes (first time for me since last fall) and went in search of treasures. That's when I immediately found myself in the movie Stand By Me, and I was not one of the cool kids like Will Wheaton or River Phoenix who I'm pretty sure I loved when I was ten. Only I'm not sure if there were bikes in Stand By Me so maybe I'm thinking of The Sandlot. Whatever. It was like I was being initiated into a bike gang by my kids.

They constantly darted in and out and around each other almost crashing. One of them whipped over in front of me and slammed on his brakes. The other one almost took out my spokes with the pegs on his bike. They weaved and circled and sped. My only other group riding experiences are 1) with my favorite girls where we casually ride and chit chat and enjoy the sunshine and breeze and zen of the world, and 2) at the Spa Girl Tri where the women would kindly say "on the left" as they approached and cheer for you if they passed you, shouting encouraging, affirming words. But these boys...these boys were doing some sort of rough housing on bikes and didn't even know it was happening.

After I finally caught my breath, I said in the most demanding voice I could muster, "You guys cannot keep doing that!  It's not safe at all!"

Keaton replied with a roll of his eyes, "Mom, This is what we always do."

That did not make me feel better.

We hunted for several geocaches. First, we stopped at the park and pretty quickly found one that was not easy. I was pretty impressed with us. Then we moved on to one that is allegedly at the front of our subdivision (near the lions), and I made the boys give up because cars were flying through the castle so fast that it made me nervous.

(Yes, we live in a subdivision whose entrance is guarded by giant stone lions and you have to drive through a castle to enter. It's beyond ridiculous.)

Then we went to the back of our neighborhood and met up with my niece, and the four of us wandered on foot through the mud to what I'm certain was the right location but we never found the item. Then we headed home, but included a quick rest stop at the fountains. We sat under the pavilion, sun shining, breeze blowing. It was idyllic.

Then Tucker started ramming Keaton's bike with his front tire. Keaton asked him to stop. He didn't. Keaton yelled at him to stop. He didn't. I finally told him to "STOP IT!" and he replied with "I did stop, and then started again. And then I stopped again. And then I started again" all while ramming the bike to the rhythm.

And so I took his bike and threw it into the pond. Not really.

I asked which way they wanted to go home, and Tucker left. Keaton wanted to take the sidewalk, so he and I headed that direction. Tucker was far off the other way when he noticed that we were not following him. He pantomimed something like "Why aren't all of you following me? I'm twelve now so I'm totally in charge of this family and everyone should just do exactly what I want without questioning me."

I pantomimed back "Your brother and I are going this way and you can go how ever you want and I'll see you at home and you are not the boss of me."

Then Keaton and I pedaled home. About halfway, he started repeating, "My back is hurting so much." and "Ouch! My back!'

I ignored him as long as I could and finally took the bait, "What's wrong with your back?"

"I slept on a basketball. Long story."

And that was the end of it. Totally normal, right?

Anyway, today I made my mom effort, and now I've even checked my email for the one time per day I've allowed myself over Spring Break which should be for bonus points or something. I just made some delicious Vermont maple and sea salt popcorn from Quinn Popcorn, and I'm getting back in bed. I have more Kimmy Schmidt to watch.

And I think I see a rain cloud.

When your superpower tries to kill you

Tonight I had a breakthrough at the grocery store. Okay, well, it wasn't exactly as dramatic as a breakthrough, but I learned something new about myself. I'm almost 38, so learning something new about myself is pretty significant. I've been around a long time.

I am organized. I've cultivated this gift my whole life. When something is complicated and detailed, I can't wait to get my hands on it and get into an Excel spreadsheet. In fact, I've commented that if I can't make it make sense using Excel, then it's likely not a solvable problem, and I wasn't kidding. It's like a superpower.

My current job has me working through several detailed processes, and my current project is ordering every piece of furniture for an entire elementary school. It's fantastic. I methodically review every detail and submit changes in the form of - surprise! - an Excel spreadsheet. (This is my organizational method rather than the furniture vendor's, but I'm certain that he's impressed and thinks I'm brilliant and the world's very best school furniture customer ever in history. That's what Excel can do. Organization is powerful stuff, man.)  My first round of changes was approximately 307 line item additions and deletions, itemized by construction room number and room name, and with detailed explanations of the products in question. It was a thing of freaking beauty. For real.

Now to the grocery store.

As long as I can remember, I have loaded my groceries onto the checkout conveyor the same way.
1. Cold items first. I have a giant insulated bag that I want them to go in, so it seems easiest to put them first so the bagger can put them directly in that bag.
2. Boxy/canned type things next. They are durable and aren't damaged if you bang them around a bit.
3. Gatorade and paper towels, etc. These things are also not damageable. I can fit 2-3 six packs of Gatorade in one reusable shopping bag.   Yes, I want them in a bag. That's why I brought all of these bags. Because I want my groceries to go in them. Grrr...
4. Fruits and vegetables next. I don't want them smushed. Also, I don't use the plastic bags in the produce section because it seems silly to bring reusable shopping bags and then fill them with small plastic bags. I can place the apples together, limes together, etc., to help the checker.
5.  Breads, chips, etc. I really hate when my bread is smushed. It makes me angry. Raises my blood pressure. Makes me sweat. I place bread products carefully last on the conveyor so that the other items don't get pressed into them at the other end.

Going grocery shopping stresses me out more and more each week, mostly because of the check out situation. Just the thought of going to the store makes me anxious, maybe takes years off my life. I have a system, and I'm doing my part. It never, never, never, never goes according to my plan. Sometimes an employee comes over to help me unload my cart, and it sends my blood pressure racing because they don't do it in order. Often I angrily bag the Gatorade and paper towels myself when I get to the car, using one of the many extra bags that the grocery store folks left unfilled while placing several random items in my cart all alone...some Gatorade here...some toilet paper there... Sometimes the bread bag makes it in the cart ahead of the cans bag, so I fluff up the bread and rearrange those items to minimize damage on the drive home. Top heavy bags also must be reorganized so they don't topple over. Basically, I re-bag most of my groceries in the parking lot. This is totally normal, right?

Today's kind-of-but-not-really breakthrough came when I made a choice to haphazardly place my groceries on the conveyor. I don't know what got into me. I just put items on up there in whatever order I picked them up from my cart.

In no particular order.

Randomly.

It was strange. I may have felt a little free. I'm not lying when I say that I smiled all the way to my car. All I could think is that I felt like Superman, who had spent his whole life learning the perfect way to make kryptonite only to find that he'd developed a terrible allergy and now it was choking him to death! (That's a pretty ridiculous, awful analogy and Superman never made kryptonite, but if he did make it then the analogy would work. I promise.)

What I learned about myself? My organization superpower has taken over my grocery shopping and made me loathe and despise what should be an easy chore. I have officially over-organized.

I still rearranged a few groceries when I got to the car and bagged my Gatorade and Kleenex and paper towels. While you might think this was my over-organizing again, it was simply evidence to me that my obsession with check out order was really, truly pointless. I'm left wondering what other areas of my life I've devolved to a spreadsheet and then stressed out about. I suppose that gives me even more to learn about myself, doesn't it?

Now, I wonder if I can do it again next week...

How He Loves Us

People. I have not blogged this year. I haven't written anything at all. That's pretty bad.

I have had many things in my head. In fact, I was certain I had blogged a couple of times in January, but it seems that the words in my head never made it out onto paper (or my monitor, as it were). I should do better. I think writing is good for the brain and good for the soul and good for educators.

Here's the reason I logged in here today:

On the way to work I was praying for some people - an overworked husband, a former student who may have lost her way, a very cranky Keaton, Tucker with fresh spacers in his teeth for braces next week, myself for the constant voice in my head saying "don't screw this up" following every thought - and I heard a song I've heard a million other times. I had no idea the name of the song or even who sings it, but I know all the words. Today they struck me differently than they had before.

Some research determined that the song is David Crowder's "How He Loves Us." Here's the lyric that caught my attention:

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

When all of a sudden,
 I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
And I realize just how beautiful You are

And how great Your affections are for me.

In recent months I've read a lot about restoration, be it in articles or things friends share. There's no underlying drama here - I don't feel like I'm in great need of being restored from something terrible - but I feel like we, as Christians, constantly either need to be restored to a place of greater faith or we need to be a vehicle for God's restoration to others ("vehicle" sounds too mechanical but I can't think of a better word).

I am a believer in the joy that comes from a relationship with Christ. I believe this joy is always attainable. It's always there. We should live prepared for it, always believing that something wonderful is about to happen because wonderful things happen all around us every day. Surrounded by God's presence we should stand amazed.

Back to the song. God loves us so much that if we let him, he will restore us into something better every day.  Our afflictions will be so eclipsed by God's glory that we will be unaware of them. We won't even notice them anymore. They will have no power over us. 

My current affliction is worry. I'm not sure what yours is, but I hope that today you become unaware of it. I hope, too, that we can be hurricanes of God's love to those who need to be restored. 

"Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit." Psalm 51:12

One Year of Quilts (with some education stuff thrown in)

I can finally post about this. Finally.

One of my recurring fascinations is with education research and the brain (handy that it's my job, too), and something I've read so much about in the last couple of years is the importance of grit or determination. A kid can be a genius, but if he gives up the second something is difficult for him, then his genius doesn't matter at all. We talk a lot in my district about how to instill this grit into our students. This, after all, will be the edge that sets them apart in college or the workforce for the rest of their lives. It makes them problem solvers and not quitters.

I'm oversimplifying here, but instilling grit in students (or our own children) means putting tasks in front of them that are hard. It means congratulating their failures (rather than punishing them with bad grades or scowls or whatever) because they learned something from those failures and are one step closer to solving a problem. It means providing just enough support to push them to success, but not enough to make them comfortable.

The second part of my theory regarding grit is that we, as adults, don't usually choose to do things that are hard or that we're bad at. I know this is true for me. I find some disconnect - dare I say hypocrisy - in the fact that we want our kids to try and fail and branch out and learn, but we really like our comfortable situations. In short, I think I've gone most of my adult life without learning to do something new. I used to joke that before I retire I'd like to teach Algebra because I can't imagine anything farther from my comfort zone of teaching. But don't suggest that I would do that now -- what if I'm not immediately good at it? That would be terrible!

So I set out to change that in 2014. First, with the encouragement of some great friends, I signed up for a mini-triathlon. There's a half-finished, unpublished blog post somewhere about it, and it was an awesome experience.

I also decided to learn how to quilt. I chose quilting because if my house were burning down, one of the top five things I would grab is this:

It's a quilt my grandmother made. When I moved out of my parent's house to go to college, I may have "accidentally" packed it. (My mother might use the word "stole" but that's a little harsh, I think.) Since then, we've lost my Mammaw, but I still have this quilt and I think of her every single time we use it, which is probably daily. Quilting isn't eliminating hunger or anything, but it's something with a lasting impact. Something that will (hopefully) go on beyond me. After I made a practice quilt, I set a goal to make eight quilts, one for each of the adult women in my family, and give them for Christmas. It seemed a little crazy, but it kept me going because I had a goal.

This is another little part of teaching our kids and our students grit. If their work -- this hard, failure-creating work -- is related to something they are invested in, then they are more likely to stick with it. To keep trying. To work harder and learn from mistakes.

And so, armed with a new sewing machine, I started quilting. First I read articles and watched YouTube videos. Several people have asked for which ones I watched, and it was so long ago that I'm not sure I remember them all. I'm posting a few here that look familiar and I think are good:

• Diary of a Quilter - Beginning Quilt Series
• Jenny, from the Missouri Star Quilt Company, was my new best friend this year. I like all of her tutorials. Here is their channel. I also used her tutorial on the jelly roll race on one of my quilts. I liked the process a lot, but I've had a hard time finding jelly rolls locally that I really like. 
• Regarding patterns: I only used a couple. For the most part I saw something I liked online and sketched it out on white paper, calculating sizes. Use pencil because it take a while to get it right. 
• I studied and referenced quilting terms because I found I was reading articles and had no idea what they meant because I didn't know the vocabulary. 
• I pinterested like crazy. "Easy quilts" was my most frequent search. You can see my sewing board here. Many of the easy quilts come with tutorials. 
• Speaking of easy, my quilts were all quite simple. You'll notice only straight, rectangular lines in them all. I may be ready to branch out into triangles after one year of work, but don't hold me to it. 
• I'm kind of terrible at basting. I thread basted using a spoon because that's what my friend Erin does, then I tried pin basting, then I started spray basting later in the year. I like spray basting the best. 
• For my first few quilts, I made my own binding. Then I discovered bias tape for quilt binding and may have actually jumped for joy in the store. SUCH a time saver! My friend Jenny from Missouri Star has a great tutorial on binding. I re-watched it before binding my first five quilts (at least) because I was afraid I would miss a step. I hand bound my mini-practice quilt, but used my machine for all the rest. 

The biggest question I've gotten from people is about the actual quilting on the machine. Many people make quilts but send them off to be quilted, which can be very expensive. I was determined that these quilts were going to be 100% done by me, and since part of my original mission was to do something difficult I decided I had to do the quilting, too.

My friend Erin had the best advice. She told me to take a section at a time, get comfy, have a glass of wine, and just go. If you're too stiff or too worried about perfection, then you're asking for trouble. Just go. She also said that quilts are what you make them. In other words, it's your quilt, so if you like it then it's not wrong. This was probably the hardest advice for me to follow. I like to plan and control and follow the directions, so the freedom was tough. More than once I sat down to quilt and after about five minutes decided I couldn't right then because I was wound too tight. Most of the mistakes I made (that had to be ripped out and redone -- and there were plenty) were because I was trying to force myself to get a certain thing done even though I didn't really want to right then. Patsy Thompson has a four part tutorial that's pretty long but got good details. You'll see that I chickened out and straight-line quilted all of the first quilt and the first part of the second. 

Before I post the pics I also want to mention that these are far from perfect. Really expert quilters would likely look closely at them and see technical flaws -- uneven stitching in places, a repair here and there, etc. I know they are there, and I'm okay with it. See, I'm not an expert yet. I'm still learning, and not being perfect is part of that. Maybe some day I'll get there! 

The practice quilt where I first learned how to do stuff.

This is my first full-size quilt. I loved the fabrics, and it took me a long time to cut out all of the squares. I also counted wrong, so I have about a million more squares already cut out in these fabrics just waiting for another project. 

Tiffany's quilt. I bought a charm pack with the squares, and used a quilt I found on Pinterest as inspiration. I straight line quilted the center. The purple area is my first free-motion work. 

I'm pretty sure I did Mom's next. I saw this pattern in the quilt store and thought it would be perfect for her. Piecing this together was a huge puzzle, but I love the finished product. I bought the kit at Lone Star Quiltworks in College Station, and it was nice to have someone else choose just the right fabrics to make it. It was the first time I used an actual pattern. 

This is the jelly roll race quilt. I jokingly call it my Hawaiian quilt because the flowers on the fabric look Hawaiian to me. I wanted something quick and simple, and this definitely fit the bill. It was originally for Wendy, but when it was done it just didn't look like her. I ended up keeping it for myself. 

This is probably the most difficult quilt I made. It seemed simple, but it had more small pieces than the others I had done. Getting those squares to be the same size required some serious accuracy in cutting and piecing. It also turned out to be pretty big, so quilting it was hard on my domestic machine. I think looks great with such rich color, even if I can spot the few mistakes. 

I needed an easy quilt after the purple one. I found the center fabric and immediately thought of Jodi. It was so bright and happy that I didn't want to put another print with it to distract from it. It needed to be a in a big chunk. I found a quilt similar to this on Pinterest and just modeled this after the one I found. 

I used a pattern for this, too. Maybe only the second or third actual pattern I used. The funny thing is that the pattern made the center gray quilt. When I was done, it was itty bitty and kind of funny!  I added the maroon borders and stars to give it some size, and I like it much better with the addition. The back of this quilt is great fabric, too!

I knew I wanted to make this one for Mary (it's just like Mom's, only Aggie colors), so I saved it for last because I knew I wouldn't need time to choose a design or fabric. I put it all together, added the border, and was just about to baste when I realized I attached the bottom half to the top half upside down. EEK! I ripped out and redid more seams on this thing than all the other quilts put together, but it was worth it. Also, I accidentally bought backing fabric that was extra wide, and I didn't have to piece the backing together at all. I felt silly that I'd made quilts all year without realizing I could have been buying extra wide fabric for the back! 

Wendy's actual quilt. I finished the others in time to make one that was more like her, and I was glad I did. I have LOTS of this fabric left for other projects because I needed the long strips. 

There you have it!  One year of quilting and learning! I can't wait to get going on my next project!