Marla's Alphabet Soup

If you know me at all, you know I am a gawky, nervous, physically inflexible, wanna-be ballerina with weak ankles, terrible balance, and a center of gravity that is a moving target. I am not really athletic by definition, although in a past life, I enjoyed water and snow skiing, swimming, yoga, paddleboarding, and dancing. These days I’m rather seasonal in my activitiy—I walk when it’s not too hot, hike when it’s cool and dry, and snowshoe when it’s not too cold.

I abhor (big word for big feelings) working out. I hate gyms. I would rather take a beating than do a cardio workout or circuit class. I have tried spin classes, rock climbing, running, kickboxing, plank challenges, aerobics, weight lifting—all of it. And I just couldn’t stick to it. I got bored. The workouts got too hard. I was terrified of falling or losing my balance.

Almost every athletic thing I have ever done in my entire life has been under duress, or because I really had no choice as a mom of two boys married to a golfer/snow skier. I am also the daughter of a father with an insatiable drive for off the grid four wheeling and questionably safe water sports.

There are three exceptions to my hatred of athleticism. One, I once trained for and ran a half marathon in Disney World with my girlfriends from graduate school. It was an amazing feeling to accomplish this goal. I was proud of that “win” for a very long time.

Two, I love to dance in all forms—sober, not sober, in a bar, on a stage, in my house, at a club, in a studio. I started dance classes at three years old and took ballet lessons off and on through high school. Musical theater is my jam; I’m all about the ensemble dance numbers! Maybe that’s why I love teaching preschool music and movement so much?And three, I ❤️ pilates. I took a pilates class because a dear friend convinced me I would like it. She was right. Last week, I completed my 200th class! Who knew?!?

I enjoy pilates for so many reasons. I feel like I am truly making myself stronger. Motion is lotion for my creaky joints! The combination of light and heavy springs help me build muscle through resistance and core control. Every class is new, so I never get bored even if I’m doing many of the same movements. Every class makeup is a different set of 12 people. Even though I know many of the participants, it’s never the same combination of faces. Most importantly, a pilates class is 50 minutes of completely tuning out the world. I have to concentrate on what I’m doing. My mind cannot wander away or obsess over something that is bothering me. I only have to do the next pose, the next rep, and complete the next breath. It is the most restful 50 minutes of my day—even when my body is so tired my knees wobble down the stairs to the parking lot.

I’m inspired by a new friend I made in class who has completed a whopping 1,000 classes. I will likely never complete that many. I’m shooting for 250 classes by my birthday.

Try a pilates class sometime. It will be harder than you think—and more satisfying. Whatever you do, take care of yourselves friends. Drink more water and move just a little bit every day.

Love you big,

Marla

**There is no 200 board to sign, just the satisfaction of doing it. 250 here I come.**

Dear Ones,

I have not written a post in quite a while now because the world is on fire and I do not wish to add to the noise. I can get behind a good political debate any day of the week, but I am worn thin just surviving my daily inbox, Facebook feed, and grocery store run. When did every subject become a third rail?

What I would really enjoy is to expand upon John Krazinski’s Some Good News Youtube Series that he started in his house during Covid. Remember that? We could use alot more of that in our lives every day.

I am writing a post on the PBS interview with Mom’s First about their film “No Country for Mothers”. The subject matter is so personal for me that I cannot write articulately in a level-headed manner. Passion not rancor is needed and it’s still too hot for me. I also need to find a time and location to attend a community watching, or I will be reporting on half the story.

I thought about writing about the World Cup, but I neither play nor follow soccer. I did have a great time chatting with our exchange student’s mom over What’s App about the world’s perspective of America over the summer.

I am sure an empty nest post is coming. We launch in two weeks.

Hopefully there will be a post about my new job and how much I love it.

For the moment I write about the dry well. And mix my metaphors. And use sentence fragments and too many commas.

The world at large is alot right now, but if we lean into our own microcosm of life, we can make space for the big thoughts and the feels when they come—and then write. Talk to you all soon.

Love y’all so big,

Marla

Recently a friend of mine posted an article on Facebook about the UNC system (that’s North Carolina’s university system) exploring 3 year bachelor’s degrees instead of four. Apparently this is a new national trend in higher ed. Less cost to the student, more focus on the necessary, etc. etc. etc. I have multiple thoughts on this proposal. Before I launch my essay in defense of higher ed, I would like to be honest about a few things:

1. I didn’t take a deep dive into this proposal. I read the article and clicked on a few embedded links for more information. 
2. I have a Bachelor’s degree from a private liberal arts college and a Master’s degree from a state university. My bias towards higher education is hereby formally acknowledged.

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If the average time to graduate from a state college or university with a 4 year bachelor’s degree is 5 years (per google) why on earth would we think it makes sense to award a degree in 3 years? I was relieved to read the proposals by the UNC system powers that be state that these degrees would be appropriate for non-traditional students, those with some college already, or those in the military with pre-existing experience in the appropriate field. For these potential students, yes, an accelorated program absolutely makes sense. Buyer beware and all of that aside, these folks need ways to bolster their life and previous job experiences to make them competitive in a work force that increasingly asks for “experience” and a degree simultaneously. I met many folks like this in the IT department of my first big girl job in Atlanta (No, I was not in the IT department, but these allies were critical to my job performance.). 

A reduced hour degree is not for the traditional, recent high school graduate college hopeful. Unless the said student has equivalent gen ed requirements via dual degree programs in high school, or in AP/IB curriculums, you don’t get to skip the line. Knowledge builds. There are baseline levels of learning and communicating and studying and thinking at a faster pace than a high school classroom that can only be found in intro college level (gen ed) courses. The ability to read, assemble, and dissect large amounts of information in a short amount of time requires practice. English 151 and Calc 130 aren’t called pre-req’s for nothing. 

I would also debate the purpose of a college degree. The whole point of a bachelor’s degree is to become a critical thinker, a capable writer, and establish a base of subject matter mastery to continue learning, researching, and growing in one’s chosen field of study. Yes, a person will gain many, many skills in college that help their transition to the workforce and also indicate a level of basic ability to your future employers (hence bachelor’s degree required/preferred in job descriptions). Many more students will participate in a research project, embark on a unique travel or service opportunity, or overcome a personal crisis while in college that gives them something to leverage, expand upon, or use in a job interview that makes them standout. There are also the added benefits of creating a network of connections from your college or university that will open doors in the future for something you want. Alumni networks, Greek life networks, freshman hall friends, parents of former roommates, professors who know someone and are willing to make introduction are all invaluable resources that help you land an interview, or get your resume viewed. To be pithy, college can buy access and opportunity. 

The focus of college is not work place readiness. In my opinion, the idea of workplace readiness is a huge misconception. There is a difference between a job and a career. A job you need to pay your bills. A career is a vocation or lifetime love or desire to do something specific in which you are lucky enough to get paid to do what gets you out of bed in the morning. Not all careers require college degrees. Not all college degrees turn your job into a career. The point of a bachelor’s degree is to give you the tools you need to pivot, advance, or embark on a new dream, or a new opportunity. College doesn’t teach the specific job skillset, life does—whether that comes in the form of an advanced degree, specific on the job training program, or just plain old clocking in and out. Ask any adult who has worked for more than five minutes and they will tell you the truth.

As an aside—my career as a speech therapist required additional years of specialized study (Master’s Degree) and several hundred clinical training hours. The clinical hours are crucial, but meaningless without the theory and study and research behind them in the classroom. Post-grad I still had a fellowship to complete. I learned the lion’s share of my craft on-the-job during my fellowship! Having a recognized degree and making inter-professional (and collegiate) connections were crucial in securing the requirments for me to complete my training and find employment (included multiple job changes). Ultimately, I was fortunate to have a rewarding (and slightly unorthodox) career that I would never trade. 

So, no, I am not a fan of awarding bachelor’s degrees in 3 years—unless earned in an accelorated fashion through pre-college credits, prior but unfinished coursework, or work/military experience that is an acceptable exchange for the degree of study. This continual demand in higher ed to streamline efforts to generate degrees creates an unquestioning “work force” instead of a “think force.” If we paid attention in history class (high school, college, or other) or read a dystopian novel we hated in high school (or freshman college English) we would know what happens to a society that wants bodies over brains.🧐 

Employment is critical, no question. Thinking is critical. Learning is critical. None of it requires college. But all of it requires effort and knowhow and time. Stop selling a college degree as some sort of magical piece of paper that guarantees a job. It does not. If you want (or let’s be real, need) to work, work. If you want a specific technical skill for work (and we need SO many) go get it. If you want a career that requires advanced training do it. If you want to go to college, let’s make sure you can go without robbing you blind and caging you in crippling debt—that doesn’t mean short-changing your experience or making Western Civ irrelevant. Life isn’t about being a college graduate. Life is about what kind of human you want to be, what your plans are, and what it takes to make those plans a reality. 

Love Y’all so Big,

Marla 

P.S. i just left my favorite gift store to pick up little surcees for my girlfriends from graduate school. There were seven of us in the With Other Background Track. We are going to the beach together again—all of us this time! We’ve also run a half marathon together. And, almost weekly (or daily), we text one another about something. No one will ever understand you and your anxiety and your dreams and your fears like your friends who studied for exams with you at the Starbucks and cried with you over yet another clinical placement you didn’t want. I couldn’t do life without these bright, capable, incredible women. I am so thankful for them. 

Dearest Gentle Reader,

Yes, I’ve been watching “Bridgerton” again. I need something to balance all the scary stuff on television.

I do not really have a topic in mind today, just thoughts that pop up while I sit here in my sunny eastern facing window. I try to sit here for at least twenty to thirty minutes a day (in aggregate, life happens). My matching gray swivel rockers and smaller glass top table are perhaps the best purchases I have ever made. I sit here with tea and toast in the mornings, or a glass of wine with my husband in the fading evening light while I keep an eye on dinner. It’s a touchstone spot.

At my sunny window spot I find my inspiration from DIY to blog posts. I make lesson plans. I write letters. I talk on the phone. I scroll. I pray. I make grocery lists and gratitude lists. I read. And sometimes, I just sit and rock.

I love my screened in porch, but there are times one needs to be indoors. I can still sit in my window and get what I need even when the pollen count is high or it is really windy. Heavy rain and fast moving southern thunderstorms can be watched from here in relative safety.

I sit in my rocker by the window and wait for nature. Sometimes our resident deer or gaggle of turkeys stop by for a nibble on the tall grass. The rabbits dart between the flowers and plants. The other day, I saw the first hummingbird of the year visiting my pink geraniums!

Do you have a spot like this in your life? I am so grateful for mine. The world is really loud right now and I need some gentle silence. Share your favorite spot with me!

Sending y’all big love from my sunny window.

Marla

It’s happening. Dear Readers in eight days I will be an empty nester, a bird launcher, a mother of two “grown men”. The first time around I couldn’t stop crying. This time around I mostly walk around in a fog of senior moments (his and mine—don’t you love the word play?). I literally feel numb to all that is happening.

The senior class trip begins today. Why is motherhood a continuous loop of being left behind? It seems like from the time a child figures out movement, they are continually launching themselves away from you. First steps. First days. First camp out. First sleepover. First car. First date. I am never going to get used to being left behind for someone or something else, even though that ability to leave me has been the goal from the beginning.

I am paralyzed with the shock of it. I cannot feel happy or sad. I wish for the release of tears knowing I would feel better, but tears won’t come. This is a new feeling. I do not like it and I do not want to be here anymore.

I cannot decide if it is the combination of knowing and not knowing, or age. I have done all of this before with big bother. However, no two kids are the same and mine are as different as the sun and the moon—so there is an element of how will this time go? I am older and tired in a different way now. I go to bed at 9:00. I cannot remember the last time I waited up for my child. I never would have gone to bed before his brother came home. Now, I just leave the porch light on and go to bed. What has happened to me?

I wish I had answers. I wish I could finish this blog post neatly with a bow and tell you everything is alright. It is not alright. I want my buddy back. I don’t want him to go. He is so ready, but I am not. Oh. Here are those tears. I truly thought I might be a zombie. Sniff. Wipe. Sniff. I’ll write again soon.

Love y’all and him so big,

Marla