we survived the fourth trimester! & weekly victories.

A phrase that is currently gaining traction in the world of pregnancy books and blogs is "the fourth trimester." I first saw the phrase in The Happiest Baby on the Block, which I read before Connor was born. Dr. Karp uses the phrase to explain that a newborn isn't totally aware that he/she isn't still in the womb, and anything un-womb-like is a shock to the little one's system. As the moms in my online support group would say, they're still potatoes for the first three months. Then there was a popular New York Times article and there are at least two books with that title.

I spent a lot of the "fourth trimester" mentally processing my emotions after Connor's birth did not go the way I had envisioned. In my job as a school director and instructional coach, I work with a lot of data. I like statistics. My pregnancy had felt average; I'd experienced symptoms right along the timeline the Ovia app said I would. I'd read that with most first pregnancies, the baby comes after the due date, so I expected to be able to start my maternity leave and have a few days of downtime before going into labor. I would prepare freezer meals and postpartum care items, finish doing some crafts for the nursery, and select books to read during my break from work and society. I knew that the majority of births aren't via Cesarean section, so I didn't expect to need one. Despite giving birth in a state of the art hospital surrounded by kind doctors, nurses, and my family, I had a rough time just dealing with the fact that the experience I'd envisioned - feathering my nest and then giving birth like some kind of woman warrior - had slipped away.

C-section recovery seemed to go on forever - I was still losing blood a few days before my 6-week check up.  Those freezer meals never got cooked and the meal train kindly set up by friends only lasted for the first week home, after which point I lived on microwaveable French bread pizzas, chicken pot pies, and canned tuna. Nights with the baby could be rough - latching to breastfeed was a struggle for Connor and there were tears from all three family members sometimes when it didn't seem like peaceful sleep would ever come. The nursery still isn't "done." I wish I had written more down, taken more pictures, but the truth is I was exhausted.

We survived the fourth trimester. I have returned to work (the self-help book about that is, of course, called The Fifth Trimester). Connor spends the day with a babysitter who he greets with a huge smile every morning. He is making eye contact and laughing and just generally less potato-y and more of a person. My hair isn't in a messy bun all day anymore, but it is falling out, right on schedule for a new mom. And every day feels like running a marathon.

During the haze of maternity leave, Mr. Q would leave for work when I was still in bed, usually with a baby attached to me. He would come home to find me on the couch with a baby attached to me, ask what I'd done that day, and I'd get kind of confused - what did I do today? There was nothing to actually show for my days (other than a tiny human who was still alive). For one week, I recorded what I did meticulously to figure out what my average days were actually like. Taking a shower, feeding the baby, putting on clothes, and feeding myself were all accomplishments, and seeing them written down was therapeutic.

My blogging friend Micah regularly posts the goals she has set for herself and uses her blog posts to track her progress toward those goals. As I've started to feel a little overwhelmed with this "fifth trimester," I thought it might be a good idea to do something similar. I'm going to call it my "weekly victories" post. We'll see if I have enough energy and/or time to keep it going every week.

this week's victories:

• went to the YMCA for a 30 min. workout
• went to Bible Study (C was super well behaved!)
• J gave C a bottle of formula for the first time so I could pump - he seemed to digest it just fine and it helped him sleep better
• sent C to day care with 4 bottles of pumped milk every day
• cooked a meal
• developing a new morning schedule that gets us both to work on time
• the bridesmaid dress I ordered online for my SILs' wedding fits my lumpy postpartum body!

goals for next week:

• take C on a walk outside
• go to the YMCA
• take C to meet my yoga friends
• start building up milk stash again (currently only have 1 oz. extra)
• prep 3 lunches, buy lunch 2 days
• attend virtual workshops for my job
• do something nice for my mom who is watching C while the babysitter is on vacation
• go to the chiropractor

a birth story, part ii.

Continued from Part 1...

Once I was ready for surgery, two nurses wheeled me quickly to the operating room. It was white, bright, and freezing cold. The doctors and nurses in the room identified themselves to me and I heard my doctor, who was on the other side of a blue drape across my body, give a quick narrative including my name, age, and medical history, explaining the procedure, and stating how much blood I was expected to lose (that was scary to hear). Josh was allowed to come in and sit down beside me. He and the anesthesiologist each held one of my hands as the surgery began. 

A c-section is a very strange procedure. Being awake and aware (though in the haze of sleep deprivation and medication) and knowing that your body is being cut open and taken apart is surreal. The doctor would say, "you're going to feel some pulling," and I would cry out, not from unbearable pain but how surprising and strange the sensation was. I told the doctors that I was okay but needed to make noise. The anesthesiologist told Josh, "if you want to look, you can stand up now," and at 9:35 p.m. I heard my baby cry. That cry meant he was alive, and I started to cry as well. The doctors said, "Heather, here's your baby," and held my son over the drape so I could look at him before whisking him over to the side of the operating room for whatever after-birth procedures he needed. As he cried, I thought, "that's my son's voice." The baby's umbilical cord had already been clamped and cut, but Josh got to cut it to the length it needed to be to fall off properly. He was 20 inches long and weighed 6 pounds 12 ounces. After he had been weighed and his APGAR signs checked, the baby went with Josh to a recovery room as the doctors finished sewing me up.

A young nurse named Emily took me to a big recovery room where I was the only patient, where Josh and the baby were waiting, and Josh placed him on my chest for our first skin-to-skin contact. The baby immediately started bobbing his head and rooting on my chest, found my nipple and latched on. Emily said it was the fastest she'd ever seen a newborn be able to do that. The recovery room was also where Josh told me the detail I'd missed in the operating room because I was so out of it: the doctor had announced that the baby's umbilical cord had been wrapped around his neck twice. I think that somehow my body knew it would not be safe for me to push, and shut down the process of labor for a reason. The female body is amazing.

I could have stayed in that little bubble of love with my new family forever, but knew that our parents and sisters wanted to see the baby and know that we were both okay. He also needed a name before they met him. Josh said, "He looks really Irish right now. Connor." I asked which of our middle name choices, and he said, "Connor Phillip." Phillip was my dad's name and I knew that choice would be so special to my family. I couldn't wait to introduce our parents to their grandchild and our sisters to their nephew. We would spend the next three days in the hospital so that I could recover from my surgery and so that we could focus on bonding as a new family of three.

a birth story, part i.

The week that ended up being my last week of work before maternity leave was a very busy one as usual. I was helping the middle school administrators make scheduling decisions for the next school year, coaching a student as she prepared to give an Ignite talk at the state superintendents' conference the next week, and helping teachers prepare for state standardized testing. That Wednesday I had my scheduled weekly OB/GYN appointment  - one of the quick, routine visits that consist of not much more than a weigh-in and blood pressure check - and everything was normal. My doctor asked me if I wanted her to check my cervix and I refused once again - members of my online May moms' group had posted about how painful those checks were and everything I'd read said they weren't medically necessary. The only real sign that I was nearing the end of my third trimester was how swollen my feet and legs were - so much that my ankles had disappeared and a coworker was joking that I had developed "flegs" instead of cankles. My nurse had ruled out preeclampsia in a previous appointment and my doctor had declared that I was "just a sweller." I was moving more slowly, parking in front of my school to save steps instead of in the teachers' parking lot, taking the elevator when I had to go between floors, and asking kids to surrender the most comfortable seats in their classrooms to me when I did observations (and help me out of those seats when I needed to stand up again). 

That Thursday, I attended the annual educators' banquet to support a friend who was nominated for Teacher of the Year and my student who was delivering her speech as a test run. When my name was called to honor my ten years of service to the district, it took me a while to waddle up to the front of the auditorium to collect my certificate. On Friday, I chaperoned the eighth grade dance after school, and my coworker made me put my "flegs" up on a Rubbermaid tub that held photobooth props. I stayed, along with a few of the other chaperones, until every student had been picked up. That night as I was going to bed I felt a few contractions, different than the Braxton-Hicks ones I'd experienced after going on a too-strenuous hike in the winter. Though strong, these contractions were irregular and ended after two hours or so.

The next day was May 5th, which was the day of the Kentucky Derby this year in addition to being Cinco de Mayo. I had to get out of bed to throw up that morning, which my brain mentally cataloged as a potential sign of labor. Then mucus plug made an appearance, but I told myself that I could still have a week to go. Being a group of people who can never resist a celebration, our Bible study friends had planned a Cinco de Derby party at the lake, and we had planned to go. Since I still felt good and the party wasn't too far away from our packed hospital bags, we decided we'd still go. 

One of my dad's favorite songs was Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" and since he passed away my mom and I have liked to think of cloudbursts as a little hello from him. On the drive toward the lake, it started raining, but the sun still shone brightly. I felt such a sense of peace and that everything was going to be okay, and excitement in the knowledge that my baby would be on the way soon. I didn't have much of an appetite for the tacos my friend Jessi had made, but I parked myself in a rocking chair with a stool and enjoyed the conversation and picking a horse to root for. One of my best friends remarked on how uncomfortable I looked, and actually asked me if I was in labor. When I got too tired and achy, I let Josh know we needed to leave.

At about 11:00 that night, I started to have contractions again. I opened the tracker in my Ovia pregnancy app and started recording them. They were all about 40 seconds to one minute in length, but very irregular - anywhere from three minutes to 15 minutes apart. To deal with the pain, I tried bringing the yoga ball upstairs into our bedroom. My favorite strategy we'd learned in our Prepared Childbirth class was getting on all fours, but that wasn't bringing much relief either. My contractions started out in the depth of my belly and felt like period cramps, then circled my body and ended in my back - what's called back labor. At around 1 a.m. I asked Josh to call the hospital. The doctor on call said my contractions were too irregular for her to tell us to come there yet, and for me to try to get some rest. It's probably a good thing I wasn't the one on the phone.

I went downstairs to labor for a while so Josh could try to sleep. After another hour of contractions, I told Josh that I just wanted to be at the hospital even though my contractions were still irregular. Lying down and sitting were incredibly uncomfortable - I felt best either pacing the floor or pushing against a wall while lunging and peddling my feet the way my yoga teacher tells us to do in downward dog. I had figured out that I would have about six contractions between our house and the hospital and felt like I could handle that. On the drive, I leaned the seat all the way back, gripped the seat and arm rest, and screamed a lot. The good thing about being in labor in the middle of the night was that there was no traffic on the way to Roanoke. When we got to the hospital, a security guard met us at the door and helped me out of the car. I couldn't wait to stand up, so I rejected the wheelchair he offered and hobbled to the elevator as Josh went to park the car. Our hospital has an express elevator that only goes to the Labor/Delivery and Mother/Baby floors. A lady getting into an elevator on the other side of the hallway saw me clutching my belly and rocking from side to side and said, "It'll all be worth it."

To get into the L&D unit, I had to pick up a phone beside a locked door and identify myself. It felt strange, alone and in pain, limping toward a dark triage room. "In here," the nurse called. I had to undress and get on an exam table, and anticipating the pain of lying down made me want to cry. The nurse checked me in and paged the OB/GYN on call. I was 100% effaced, four centimeters dilated, and the portable ultrasound machine showed that the baby was head down, ready to be delivered. I got a hospital bracelet and was taken to my room. Josh called our parents and his sister to let them know it was happening.

The doula who taught our Prepared Childbirth class had recommended requesting a nurse who liked supporting natural birth, but we didn't have to - the nurse assigned to us asked about my pain management preferences, and when I told her I wanted to avoid medication as much as possible, she went to get a yoga ball and peanut ball. She arranged my monitors so that I was able to still get up and down from the bed, bounce on the ball, and stand up as needed. As the pain from my contractions got more intense, she helped me get on all fours or lie on my side with the peanut ball between my legs. There was a shift change at 7 a.m., and the new OB/GYN on call was my own doctor, which I felt very lucky about. My new nurse was very motherly and sweet. When the pain got too much for me to handle, and I had thrown up several times, I asked for IV pain medication, still wanting to avoid an epidural if I could because I wanted to be able to move around as much as possible.

The L&D floor was very busy on May 6th. There was a set of twins and a set of triplets being delivered via Cesarean section, and eight other mamas in labor. My father-in-law went to the waiting room for a while and ran into one of my coworkers' mother-in-laws - it turned out that she was in the room next to mine. Her due date had been May 10th and mine had been May 16th, so both of us would be starting maternity leave earlier than planned! Our nurse was happy to relay messages back and forth between the rooms about how we were doing.

Though the IV pain medicine helped, I could still feel my contractions, and since the ward was so crowded, my nurse had told me that if I decided on an epidural I should let her know sooner rather than later because the anesthesiologist could be busy with another patient. She reminded me that I hadn't slept, and might be too tired to push if I spent all my energy on managing the pain of labor. On one of my cervical checks, my doctor accidentally broke my bag of waters. I had learned that after the water breaks, contractions become more intense and painful, and since I was already at my threshold for pain, I asked for the epidural.

The anesthesiologist looked like someone who would be cast as a caring, fatherly doctor on a show like E.R. and was the nicest person we'd met in a hospital full of nice people. I had been scared of getting a shot in my back, but the worst part of the process was the numbing shot before the epidural. I laid down to let the medicine do its work. Unfortunately, the next thing I knew I was coming back to consciousness with my bed angled so my head was down. There was an oxygen mask on my face. There were four nurses in my room, talking fast, which really alarmed me. I could see Josh and asked him what was happening. My blood pressure had dropped, which is the most common side effect of an epidural, and the nurses got me back on track.

After the epidural, my nurse wanted to help me change my position fairly often so I didn't develop a blood clot or anything like that. However, the baby's heart rate would drop in some of the positions she tried. I got an internal monitor for the baby, and spent most of the time in "throne pose," which is being almost vertical in the hospital bed with pillows under each leg. My sister and her fiancée alternated sitting in front of the monitors, watching the baby's heart rate and letting me know when I was having a contraction - which was really strange since I couldn't actually feel the pain, just a sensation that something was happening in my body. My doctor came by to let me know her shift was ending and she was disappointed that she wouldn't get to deliver my baby. The doctor who had admitted me and my original nurse came back on duty.

The doctor was starting to get worried because the baby's heart rate kept dropping and I wasn't progressing past 8 centimeters of dilation. At about 8 p.m., she told me that I needed to make a decision: I could have a C-section right away, be awake for the procedure, and have Josh in the operating room with me. Or I could continue to wait to try to do a natural birth, with the risk that the baby's heart rate could drop further and I would need an emergency c-section, for which I would have to go under general anesthesia and no one would be allowed in the room. It wasn't much of a choice, and I asked for time to talk to my family. I burst into tears pretty much as soon as the doctor left the room - I was tired, I was scared by the prospect of major surgery, and I was worried about my baby. We knew what I needed to do, and my father-in-law led us in prayer. Everyone except Josh had to leave, and we talked about potential baby names in the time we were alone together - even though some of our friends thought we were just keeping it a secret, we really hadn't chosen one yet. My nurse came to explain the preparations we would have to undergo and to get me ready. Josh still wanted to be able to cut the baby's umbilical cord, and if there was anything wrong with the baby I wanted Josh to stay with him instead of me. She had seen our family prayer and said that my anesthesiologist liked to pray with patients if they wanted. He and my nurse prayed with us and it made me feel so much more safe and secure with what was about to happen.

To be continued...

this week's clicks.

get your week off to a colorful start...

Good morning! How was your weekend? Last week was weird because Mr. Q was sick and we had three snow days off from school, so it felt like my weekend started on Wednesday. When Josh recovered enough to leave the house, we started our baby registry, which was a pretty exhausting experience, and I spent a large portion of today doing even more research about all the options for everything from bottles to playpens (too many decisions!). I'll be glad to get back into my regular routine today.

eye candy.

Gina and Ryan Photography via Ruffled

• A bohemian wedding with on-trend agate accents.
• Love Jack's creative and crafty Peter Pan nursery.
• A modern, earthy boy's nursery from Bre Purposed.
• At SMP, a stylish Washington, D.C. wedding.

made me smile.

• Audrey posted a review of so many maternity clothes!
• Thinking about taking on the Classics Club challenge.
• From Lia Griffith, a dreamy DIY copper leaf wreath.
• Emily Ley's been sharing little steps to simplify life.

flashback.

• 2017: January favorites (post needs editing)
• 2016: winter entertainment, Literary Junkies and late to the game TV discoveries.
• 2015: ideas for a living room makeover and my January in Instagram.
• 2014: entertainment favorites and my beauty routine.
• 2013: deep thinking and my classic style staples.

What's coloring your life this week? Share your favorites or link to 

your most recent blog post, Pinterest board, or Insta in the comments!

pinspiration: niagara blue

So far 2017 is shaping up to be such an exciting year in my life, and I keep feeling like so many of my little steps along the way have led me to precisely this season. In November, I was hired as the instructional coach and coordinator for a new school-within-a-school, the seeds of which were planted long ago. I would not have taken the chance to even apply for the job if not for the confidence I've gained from working with the most amazing team of all-new-to-8th-grade-English teachers this year. All the best things I've done in life have come from choices I've made when I had nothing to lose.

Two weeks ago, my forward momentum came to a grinding halt and balancing two jobs at once became too much for me to bear. Teaching has never been an 8:30-3:30 job for me - it's not just my job but my calling and passion and I am a self-identified workaholic. I love what I do. But adding a lot of research, paperwork, and tasks that delved into the PR and HR fields on top of planning three differentiated lessons a day for 70+ hormonal tweens, scoring 70+ essays on a regular basis, and dealing with all of the IEP progress reports, RTI forms, gradebook deadlines - oh, and being the 8th grade English department chair - my body finally said "nope." What I thought was just a good cry after a stressful conference call and one dropped ball on my part was actually the first sign that I was sick.

I woke up at 3 a.m. the next morning with terrible pains in my stomach. A few hours later, it became abundantly clear that I had norovirus - fever, chills, and all. I had to miss two days of work and lived on saltine crackers and Pedialyte for a week. Through it all, my team - the 5 beautiful ladies I've been mentoring this year - were there for me, helping make sure that my substitutes had the right plans and materials, that my students were behaving and on track, and, once I returned to work, that I really had talked to the powers that be about my workload.

These girls - our group Snapchat name is "Teacherladies" - aren't just my coworkers. They've become some of my dearest friends. I was so heartbroken about my old English team breaking up, but I don't think I've ever connected with a new group of people so quickly. One of the greatest gifts this group of women has brought me has been the invitation to a Bible study consisting of a handful of English teachers, several young pastors, and a handful of other folks in their late 20's and early 30's from a variety of denominations. Oh man, has this group been a blessing for Mr. Q and I. Sitting in a friend's living room last night, arms still sore from an indoor rock climbing adventure we shared this weekend, talking about Jesus and taking communion and cuddling with dogs, I was just so thankful that the Lord restores my soul - even if it takes getting knocked down by my immune system to know that restoration needs to happen.

this week's clicks.

get your week off to a colorful start...

Happy August, y'all. This week, I'm focusing on reminding myself to be content with what I have and with my current season in life. Can I get real for a minute? All summer, friends and family members keep asking how the house hunt is going. It's painful to have to say... "it's still going" when in truth we have found a one-of-a-kind home but it is out of our price range. Several friends are mamas-to-be, and I have to remind myself that it's not my time yet. Teachers head back to school today, and there's a part of me that feels like I should be further along, more accomplished in my career. More, more, more.  I often forget that comparison is the thief of joy, until I realize that I've spent fifteen minutes or half an hour scrolling through Instagram or Facebook and feel worse instead of better. Two posts that really resonated with me this week were "The Traps" at The Inspired Room and "Of Elder-flowers and Jealousy" at Design for Mankind.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

SWOON.

• From 100 Layer Cake, a boho wedding's cool ceremony arch.
• A gorgeous interfaith wedding in NYC from Snippet and Ink.
• At Style Me Pretty, a graphic designer's beautiful wedding.
• How cute is this sprinkle-covered pink birthday cake?

SMILE.

• August desktops: Organised Housewife, Smashing, Flipsnack.
• Lunchbox love: Lisa Frank zebra cakes from Studio DIY.
• Girl Meets World's season finale will be a big BMW reunion!
• On my wishlist for fall: J. Crew's cute, colorful signet purse.

FLASHBACK.

• 2015: The SC Aquarium, a date night LBD outfit, midsummer in IG, fave fictional pets.
• 2014: My August favorites.
• 2013: The things I can't live without and punchy wardrobe picks.
• 2012: Brazilian pork chops, a hearts of palm and avocado salad, an avocado-coconut milkshake, and an Olympics Ring tie-dyed shirt.
• 2011: Orange wardrobe and home inspiration, rustic and modern fall wedding ideas.

Potter Month: Why UVa Was My Hogwarts

Meagan from Little Red's Reading Blog recently shared pictures she took while attending an academic conference at Oxford (congratulations Meagan!). While she was there, she saw some sites that were used as settings in the Harry Potter films. Inspired by Meagan's post, for my last Potter Month contribution, I'm going to share why my alma mater, the University of Virginia, was my Hogwarts.

Photo via BuzzFeed

I visited UVa for the first time on a seventh-grade field trip and fell in love automatically - it was the most beautiful place I had ever seen and the tour was actually really interesting. I decided then that I was a future Cavalier, even though I wasn't at the top of my class and neither of parents had gone to college. Everything I did in high school was to strengthen my application! Over my five years at the University, I think I had quite a few moments when I understood how Harry felt to be at Hogwarts. 

1. Our Founder is kind of a big deal and our grounds are (kind of) haunted - So much of the culture of Hogwarts is based on the values and beliefs of its four founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and Rowena Ravenclaw. UVa's culture is still largely influenced by the father of our University, Thomas Jefferson. One of Jefferson's beliefs was that it was impossible to be finished learning, so incoming students are referred to as "first years" and so on. Sound familiar, Potter fans?

While the ghosts at Hogwarts are the real deal (and some people would surely say UVa has that kind, too), I'm using haunted as a metaphor here. After I'd been accepted to UVa my senior year, I had one last opportunity to visit as a high school student, for the state science fair. After I'd finished presenting my project, I took some time to walk around the Academical Village and Carr's Hill by myself. As I walked on the cobblestones, I couldn't help but think about the history of the University, both good and bad, and how many accomplished and intelligent people had walked on those same paths. I got the feeling that I'd never be alone.

2. Hogwarts Houses / UVa Dorms - Much like the Hogwarts Houses, UVa has different dorms for different personalities. Old Dorms tends to attract politicos and Greek lifers, New Dorms tends to be more diverse and laid-back, Brown kids are usually indie and artsy, Gooch/Dillard residents are quiet and scholarly, and Hereford kids will yell at you if you don't recycle. 

While we all filled out an application with our preferences, the choice was ultimately up to the Sorting Hat - er, UVa Housing. The kids in my dorm, Woody, became really close, and there was always something fun going on. I made lifelong friendships and lived with Woody kids for the next two years as well!

Photo via BuzzFeed

3. Secrets! - Hogwarts had the Chamber of Secrets and Dumbledore's Army; UVa has secret societies. Throughout Grounds, they have left their markings on buildings, and the societies do various philanthropic activities in the community or advocate for various principles near and dear to UVa students' hearts. The most secretive of all is the Seven Society - membership is not revealed publicly until a member's death. Members of the Z society wear a special ring at graduation. There are also some less secretive societies - I knew one of my friends was an Imp because she wore an engraved ring, and one of our 4-H officers was a member of a ribbon society called Eli Banana. I was pretty sure one of my fifth-year roommates was in a secret society because she was never home. Or she was a Death Eater.

Photo via BuzzFeed

4. That one super-beloved staff member - In the books, Hagrid serves as Harry's introduction to the magical world, and he becomes a parental figure to the trio while they're at Hogwarts. 

At UVa, we have Mama Kathy, who does so much more than swipe meal cards at Newcomb Hall. During my first week on Grounds, I recognized her from my high school visits, and she said, "Welcome back, baby!" as soon as she saw me. Since I was involved with several student organizations, I was in Newcomb Hall a lot, and Mama Kathy always seemed to know when her babies needed an extra big smile or even a hug. I still make a point to visit her every time I'm back on Grounds.

5. Getting dis-proportionally excited about sports - For most of my time as a student, our football team was not very strong, but that didn't stop students from acting like Hogwarts students at a Quidditch match, from completely blue-and-orange outfits and face paint, to one of our RA's who ran around shirtless in November with a rotisserie chicken (representing the Viginia Tech Hokies, of course) on a plastic sword (for Cav Man).

The irony of UVa athletics is that since most of the state of Virginia is obsessed with football, our programs don't always get the media attention they deserve. In 2015, the Cavaliers held the men's NCAA titles in soccer, baseball, and tennis, and hold the ACC record for national championships in men's sports. UVa also has 14 current students, 2 former students, and 2 coaches currently headed to the Olympics in Rio.

Photo via BuzzFeed

6. The Corner = Hogmeade. Hogwarts students get excited about butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks and candy from Honeydukes. We got excited about soup in a bread bowl from Jabberwocky, Gusburgers from The White Spot, secret sauce from Take It Away, and Bodo's bagels.

7. Break out the dress robes - Our equivalent of the Yule Ball was the Harvest Ball, which usually had a fun theme like Casino Royale. 

At UVa, there's some kind of formal dance going on just about every weekend because we have so many student organizations, fraternities, and sororities, so it's not unusual to see girls in sky-high heels and ballgowns and boys in suits and ties hitting the bars on the Corner in the wee hours of the morning.

8. Prefects = Res Life Staff. Student self-governance is a huge part of UVa life, and our residence system is almost completely student-run. I was a Resident Adviser in upperclass housing during my fourth year. Just like Percy Weasley, I had the power to punish students (it was called a VSOC, for Violation of Standards of Conduct, like underage alcohol possession), and had to patrol at night - not to make sure no one was breaking curfew, like at Hogwarts, but to make sure no one was passed out on the sidewalk. It happens. While Hogwarts prefects get their own special bathroom, I got a whole apartment that I shared with another RA!

Photo via @UVaLibrary on Twitter

9. The McGregor Room is definitely a Hogwarts common room - The most wonderful study spot in the world, in the bottom of Alderman Library, was unveiled when I was in school. Oriental rugs! Fireplaces! Chandeliers! Gorgeous bookshelves with ladders! Also a great place to nap. It's lovingly nicknamed the "Harry Potter room."

10. Some strict professors, and some amazing professors - I was trying to remember if I encountered any Snapes or Umbridges during my time at UVa, and I thought of my Environmental Science professor, who would actually drop students from the course if their cellphones rang in class. 

We have professors that are actually more famous than Gilderoy Lockhart, like Larry Sabato, who can often be seen on shows like Meet the Press explaining American politics, and poet Rita Dove. I had a drama professor who was a bit like Slughorn in that she liked to name-drop famous alumni like Tina Fey, Benjamin McKenzie, and Sean Patrick Thomas. I was lucky to have a lot of professors who were more like McGonnagal, Lupin, and Dumbledore - caring, passionate about teaching, and all with their own quirks!

this week's clicks.

get your week off to a colorful start...

I curated most of this post well in advance of this weekend's tragic events in Baton Rouge, St. Paul, and Dallas, and I'm still at a loss as to how to address my feelings about the state of my country right now on this blog. Even on a lifestyle blog about color and celebration, there has to be time for quiet, time for mourning, time for real. This week, I am longing for balance.

CHERISH. let these links brighten your day.

• In love with Julie Blanner's simply elegant home tour.
• Cute Toronto City Hall nuptials via Intimate Weddings.
• This glittery DC pop-up wedding looks like so much fun.
• At SMP, a fun poolside party with pineapples and rosé.

BREATHE. take time for simplicity and reflection.

• July Desktops: Sea of Atlas, Smashing, Soggy Musings
• If you read one click this week, let it be Liz's "Heartbeats":

"I don’t know what to do to fix it. But I know I was given a voice. We all have that in common too. See how alike we are."

FLASHBACK. favorite posts from the past.

• 2015: Custard yellow and teal home decor and accessories, a bridal emergency kit, my early summer in Instagram, the Avengers book tag,
• 2014: a Sunday Social all about the special people in my life, reviewed an eShakti vintage-inspired dress, recapped our trip to Colonial Williamsburg and Jamestown Settlement, and checked in with Literary Junkies.
• 2013: inspiration for log home exteriors and interior design and collecting rustic wedding inspiration as we started planning Breeze's big day.
• 2012: a few of my favorite blogs and a round-up of braided bridal hairstyles.
• 2011: the bridal shower my friends gave me, my final hair and makeup trial, and my bachelorette party.

#5FandomFriday: Make-Up Friday - 5 Songs that Changed My Life

5 Fandom Friday is a weekly prompt challenge hosted by The Nerdy Girlie and Super Space Chick. This week, I'm revisiting another early prompt I missed - 5 Songs that Changed My Life. Music is the one thing I've truly been a geek about since childhood - my parents were teenagers in the 1950's and I was raised on their rock music. My dad had been a drummer and my mom was a total fangirl. I grew up in the dance studio, where instead of making music myself I interpreted it and used it to tell stories. Some of my very best friendships have been forged because of music, and in college I made a promise to myself to see as much live music as possible - I budget around concerts instead of the other way around! When I met Mr. Q, one of the first things we connected about was music, and his family is very musical as well. 

My mama loves, she loves me

She gets down on her knees and hugs me

She loves me like a rock

She rocks me like the rock of ages

And she loves me

Paul Simon, "Loves Me Like a Rock" - I don't even remember falling in love with this song, but my mom was constantly playing her Here Comes Rhymin' Simon album on our record player and little toddler me learned all the words, so it became my parents' party trick to trot me out and get me to sing the song to their friends. My mom really is my best friend and to this day she signs cards and letter to me "love you like a rock."

The Beatles, "I Am the Walrus" - I was in fifth grade when The Beatles Anthology aired on television, and my Beatle-loving mama watched every installment. I'd always heard the Beatles in the background of my life, but never put two and two together and realized that all those amazing songs were the same band until watching Anthology. I distinctly remember seeing the clip from the "Walrus" video and thinking how cool it was that the Beatles could be so weird, creative, and beloved at the same time. I became a little hippie kid, which got me bullied throughout middle school, and never looked back. When I finally got to see Paul McCartney this past summer, it was an almost religious experience for me and I found myself weeping with happiness.

NSYNC, "I Want You Back" - Until middle school, with the exception of Mariah Carey, I didn't really listen to pop music - it was oldies and country all the way. When NSYNC came along, I think I truly became a teenager - Teen Beat posters on my bedroom wall, calling the radio station from sleepovers to request a song, standing in line to get the new CDs as they came out, and even wearing a "Justin" charm bracelet. I felt like my mom's Beatlemania finally made sense to me when I went to my first NSYNC concert and felt completely ecstatic, screaming from the back rows and truly believing they could hear me from the stage.

My daddy turned his face up towards the sky

And I knew that there was nothing to lose

I felt the crowd breathe in and I closed my eyes

And we disappeared into the groove

Marc Broussard, "Home" - When I was a first-year college student we had a "coffee house" that brought up-and-coming musical artists to perform in the first year dorms. The head of the council that chose the acts was from Louisiana and her personal victory was bringing Marc Broussard to the lounge. It was love at first listen and meeting, and I got to see him live again a few years later in a local club. I also met one of my best online friends, Micah from Unabashedly Me, through our mutual Marc fandom!

So tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

OneRepublic, "Secrets" - Okay, this song didn't really change my life, but was the background music for a life-changing moment. Right after we got engaged, Mr. Q and I went out to dinner to celebrate and this song was playing in the restaurant. I remember listening to the lyrics and thinking, yes, this is right.

lately in instagram.

It's been a while since I recapped my life's happenings and

wanderings through the lens of Instagram! Here's what

I've been up to since the winter holidays...

Fun around Roanoke: the annual "Guns and Hoses" hockey

game between local law enforcement and firemen, and

ice skating on the new outdoor rink in Elmwood Park.

Happy mail from Germany and fun with friends

Snow day opportunities to find peace and take things slow

(and make this colorful, healthy salad from Not Without Salt)

Valentine's Day sweets - Voting in the Virginia primary

Busy teacher - In March I had the opportunity to visit a local

magnet school with co-taught classes and a working barn!

Best necklace ever, a gift from my coworker - My family

Easter selfie in the church parking lot + VIP seating

Spring break lunch date with Mr. Q + visiting Grounds 

with my favorite girls (totally stole this picture!)

Are you on Instagram? Let's be friends - you can follow me here.

{Linking Up with Weekend Snapshots at Her Heartland Soul}