Coffee CubBuster

I often wonder if the handle of this blog is a bit bewildering. Now that most of my thoughts and words are consumed with child-like consumerism, my thoughts on coffee are fewer and father between posts. However, my consumption of deep, dark demitasse increases every year. After becoming a barista at the age of sixteen, my view of caffeine changed. I never wanted my tolerance level to exceed that of a healthy norm as I saw the negative side effects play out around my work place, but I cannot say the same is true for my taste tolerance. The strength of coffee needs to be higher on the charts than the average Joe (pun intended). I have no problem drinking rich, black decaffeinated coffee as my tolerance and enjoyment for the flavor quality has strengthened over time. When I was working behind the counter pouring and brewing espresso, I frequently burned my fingertips. Like a seasoned chef, I also have the benefit of strengthened temperature tolerance. My tongue and fingertips can handle b

Not everyone likes the limelight, not everyone enjoys great attention, and not many seek worldwide fame, but deep down, every single person holds a desire to be "known". Whether it's merely by a single significant other, or an entire city, we all want to be understood and loved for who we strive to portray. Social media has made "being someone" and "doing everything" much more covetous. It's the Oz behind the current: a facade we've created in our minds, which only disappoints after our striving ceases and the curtain opens. If we buy into the notion that we must be "known" by the world, we will chase after our tails in single madness. Yet for a stay-at-home mother, the monotony can crowd your view of reality as well. There are moments that make the months worthwhile, and there are weeks that weary your means of existence. After seven years of "new baby" preparations, I find the change of seasons satisfying and scary all a

Once upon a time there was one option for education: all eligible pupils of all ages entered and learned all together under the tutelage of one teacher (who must have been a saint!). Fast forward many generations and one became three options. If you had money, your children went to a nice private school where they were hopefully guaranteed an advanced degree, or you attended your locally zoned public school, choosing your residence based on preferred zonings, or you were quite socially awkward and stayed at home under the instruction of your mother.  Today, their are more options than many people realize. Charter schools, international schools, homeschool hybrids, religious or church affiliated schools, public, private, or even a mix of all of the above. Thus, like many things today, the plethora of options, which should be a gift, can feel overwhelming for many young parents.  As an educator and a mother, I've weighed and prayed about each child, each year, because I sincerel

Unless death parts you, family is always family. Even if you change legally, your blood is still from the same bloodline. This explains the depth of love that such ties create. Blood doesn't change, yet we all change in every other capacity. This may be the reason family units experience more tension than chosen friendships. We find it hard to understand a changed member of our family. Spouses must grow together as they change; they are required to continually "learn" one another, but extended family members tend to change away from one another. Because of different life experiences, family reunions tend to favor a "get to know you" mixer rather than a mingling reunification. Whether subtle or severe, all change is significant as it relates to our overall development, but if you aren't given space or grace to change, you feel as if people have placed you in a claustrophobic box. If you stubbornly fight against change, you'll simply isolate yourself from