Christmases Past and Why Growing Up is Hard to Do.

Well, folks, in a few short days I will be making my way back to my parents' house in Tulsa where I will partake in all sorts of Christmasy pleasures. Gatherings of friends and family, finding the perfect gift for each specific person, baking peppermint into everything I can think of, sipping a "Dirty Santa" at my favorite coffee shop: all give immense pleasure which is intensified by the fact that not one thought will be given to school. No. Not one.

However, in looking forward to these rare treats, I cannot help looking back to years past. Years when my mom's family was there, present and accounted for at our house every Christmas Eve. Years when I literally couldn't sleep because I was so excited for the festivities, which would ensue the following day, so I would beg my mom to read The Night Before Christmas to me just one more time. Years when we would make the trek out to Beaver, Pennsylvania for a Christmas Day filled with cousins, aunts and uncles, an abundance of food, and an even greater abundance of hugs and kisses. Someone always got the most ridiculous gift imaginable  - like the watch my dad received from Grandma Kullen one year with Bill Clinton's profile as the face and his growing Pinochio-style nose as the second hand - and the house was filled with laughter and joy and family and adventure.

It is hard to put into words what these Christmas Days entailed fully.  I remember the cold and trudging through the snow to and from the car but I remember it being warm and cozy inside. I remember being forced into my snowboots against my will and in later years being chastised for complaining of cold feet in favor of fashion. I remember playing Connect Four in my grandma's basement and hardly being able to wait to get my hands on whatever new babies there were (there were always new babies at Christmas). Mostly, they all run together into one great memory of being surrounded by the people who loved me most in the world and vice versa.

Now, we still have family Christmas and it is equally wonderful but with those formerly distant, the ones who used to call the house in Beaver every year and talk and the phone would get passed to you long enough to hear what was important, "I love you! Merry Christmas!" Roles have been reversed now and new traditions born. And it is good.

It is odd to think, though, that this will be my last Christmas in college. My last as one of "the kids." This time next year I will be graduating and starting real life and things will become far more complicated. At this point, it is a little hard to know exactly where I fit. In transition, I can only foresee Christmas and life becoming even more hectic. I suppose, this is what I mean when I say that growing up is hard to do. College turns into an awkward phase of in-between and sometimes it seems like things will only get harder. What I do know is that despite the awkwardness, the Light and Life will continue to be present.

Contemplations on the Vortex, Which is College

On Wednesday afternoon, I bumped into an old friend in a coffee shop. Sounds pretty normal, right? Well, kind of. This particular friend is one who I had resigned to a very specific role as a character in the drama that was my Freshman year of college, thinking that chances were in favor of us never meeting again this side of heaven (what with him moving to Moldova, joining the Peace Corps, and having traveled half way across the country to come to OSU for graduate school anyway). Suddenly, bludgeoned by the fact that much too much has happened over the last year and a half to catch up in a casual oh-what-a-pleasant-surprise-bumping-into-you-has-been conversation - the coffee shop standard - I fell into quite the contemplative mood.

[Just your average illegal dorm room panini muffin baking]

[Some Freshmen celebrating a Birthday]

I mean, I was the same girl talking to the same guy as when we met a little over two years ago, but I am a completely different Caity Kullen than the one I was then. Somehow, over the a two year period, I ended up being sucked into the Vortex that is University Time. Majors, relationship statuses, and dwelling places have changed a time or two. And I am far wiser and far stupider all at the same time. I have grown out of the How I Met Your Mother watching, the kitchen two-stepping lessons, the afternoon pecan pie baking, the car pranking, the up-all-night-ing, the every Wednesday game nights,  the mass consumption of Marshmallow Mateys (probably to the benefit of my figure as well as my overall health), and the terrifying feeling of facing my first real life failures. 

[Freshmen]

[Sophomores]

Growing up happens through all the fun and adventures you can dream up as a College Freshman. Growing and changing in all of it. I barely recognize that girl trudging up the 11 flights of stairs to her Drummond dorm room, the one sitting on her bed, eating a ham sandwich from 20 Something that she "forgot" she didn't like, the one trying so hard. But I still know her. And from a momentary pause in the Vortex, I think she'll be alright.

[Juniors]

On a much less disgustingly nostalgic note, here's a tip to spice up your brownie baking life from my lovely roommate and friend, THE Miss Laura Rusco:

After making your favorite brownie recipe from scratch (or a box, let's be realistic here), lay peppermint patties atop your chocolatey bliss and let them get all melty and stuff. In order to speed up the process, you can put the brownies back in the still-warm oven for a few minutes.

I promise, your brownies will be a huge hit. At least they were at our girls' night last night!

The Junior Year Slump

College: it's what every ambitious young woman ought to do, right? Choose what she wants to peruse for the rest of her life at the age of 18, commit the subsequent 4 years to study and maybe "finding herself" along the way, and finally come out with a degree and a bright future in her chosen field where she can prove her equality of skill and intelligence to that of any man. Growing up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, (the nations 22nd largest city) known as a steel town but truly an academic haven that contains over 20 colleges and universities within its metropolitan area, there never seemed to be any other option. Naturally, education was of utmost importance and a successful career was the epitome of feminist validation. How could I ever question the importance of career, the prestige of a doctorate? Of course I wanted to go to law school and move to D.C.!

Recently, though, those thoughts have been challenged. Five and a half years later, as I study at Oklahoma State University, I find myself questioning the relevance of my education to what I, as a woman, am to do with my life.  The more I talk to my peers, the more I am struck with the reality that, maybe, just maybe, being a mom and a wife isn't as meaningless a task as culture has taught me. Mind. Blown.

This is where the slump comes in. As I realize that I am intended to love and support a husband, nurture children, and keep a home, I can't help but think how DUMB school is. Obviously, education is worth while and as a student, I need to strive for excellence in my current stage of life. But in reality, all I can think about is crafting, cooking, thrifting, how I want to decorate my future home, and  the man that I want to care for more completely. Do you know what gets in the way of all these delicious thoughts? School. Dumb old school. It is like an anvil hanging over my head constantly waiting for me to let down my guard just long enough for it to come crashing down and leave me buried under a debris of broken pencils, torn notebook pages, smashed hard drives, and countless pages of assigned reading. Oh! To be assigned a craft rather than a paper! To read a recipe rather than another short story! I should just give up. But, despite the slumpiness of this slump, I shall continue to endeavor to persevere.

It is at times like these that I wonder what has happened to me, to that little D.C. bound lawyer. I think that she has realized that her ambition, although not incorrectly used as a lawyer in God's Kingdom, can affect people just as much, or more so, when directed toward the equally rigorous tasks of being a loving spouse and mother one day.