There is something singular and meaningful about taking down notes by hand. My last year I decided to opt out of such a trivial and time consuming commitment to my notes. Instead I packed my laptop along to classes and typed away while also finishing a game of Solitaire during lectures. Little did I realize just how much I missed writing things out until I found my stacks of spiral bounds from previous years. They were full of smudges, doodles, and of course notes. I marveled a moment at the regression of my handwriting. I skimmed my finger over the graphs, charts, and outlines. I blushed at the scribbling that came as a result from daydreaming about my new last name. I kept them, all of my notebooks from semesters past.
Yet, my very last three semesters I only have digital files to show for it. No hideous handwriting, no scribbles, and no daydreaming doodles. It makes my heart ache a little, not having those things from perhaps the most proud moment of my life; finishing school, graduating from college.
I am missing school this year, no doubt, but I am also very much enjoying the mommy thing. I am in awe of those women who are strong, determined, and courageous enough to take their little ones along with them to classes. I could never have done something like that. Instead, this time of year where school supplies are prevalent, I find I am grateful to be finished with school so I can focus on raising my son. I miss it, yes, but I wouldn't trade what I have now for anything. Except maybe a fresh pack of binder paper and some highlighters. Maybe ;)