Get the words out.

I have to journal.  There are a million things I'm going to forget if I don't get the words typed soon.  I was looking back yesterday at posts from Olivia's first year (looking for details about her language and behavior) and it simply doesn't exist.  I didn't journal about it.  Those memories are lost.  My balance between living life and documenting it is a bit unbalanced. 

I hereby declare that I will get the camera out, get the video camera out, and get the words out.

I sat down and started brainstorming a list of topics I need to blog about. 
(Stef, my obsessive-list-making friend, you would be soooo proud.)

- generation rescue family
- my journey with depression in the past year
- "Uncle" Tommy
- Olivia at age 5
- Jake at age 11
- Samantha
- autism eval
- kindergarten
- autism... what i'm learning
- 15th anniversary
- my obsession with cinnamon toast and home/craft/photo blogs
- Shriner's appt
- Dr. Eyes
- house journey
- O's graduation
- Jake's visit to Charleston
- Mathis family at farm house
- CAP-C and Medicaid journey (and Miss L)

I'm sure there's more, but I'll be proud if I get this much done.  These posts might come in phrases and bullet point highlights.  But, if you are here because you somehow find it interesting to read my rambling journal entries, then you'll have to accept the fact that my main goal in the near future is to get the words out.  Even if that means scattered thoughts and incomplete sentences. 

Speaking of scattered thoughts... when I was in the classroom, every once in a while we would have a "catch-up" day- time to get everybody caught up on activities and assignments that had managed to pile up unfinished over a few weeks time.  To add a little bit of humor, I would have the students write the assignment in their assignment book as "Ketchup."  He he.  I crack myself up.  I'm a goofball. 

Ketchup days were rare, but it didn't take too long before some of my kids renamed the assignment.

Mustard.  

He he. 

So, I have a goal.  I have a list.  It's Ketchup time. 

Mustard.  (He he.)