Ramblings of a Midwest Woman

Stay please - the nights are long without you. These brief moments before departure feel inadequate to calm the loneliness, I feel, the body aching for embrace, those strips of steel that fasten me together, like a locket long worn. Beautiful despite decay - worn finishings. I've always needed you - that old cliche remains true. Some things never change. Mayhaps evolving, adapting, this long metamorphosis where we grew up. Children no more. The truth is, I have always loved you somehow, in some way. Love looks different as we age. The beat of my heart is the constancy, assurance. I will wait til these nights once become days again. Softly, whispering, stay... while you go, knowing one day you will return to me.

 Just when I think I'm getting the hang (or at least a grip) of this teaching during Covid, I have a uh....challenging day. I left my mic off during the Google Meet, didn't upload the handouts I'm using in person, or adapt it for online purpose, or perhaps, I'm just struggling with good ol' classroom management, trying to project through a mask and above the many voices of rambunctious, inattentive adolescence.  Each morning, I struggle to get out the door earlier and earlier. My body heavy and wanting to return to my soft, foam-topped mattress where my achy bones ache just a little less.  Now the list begins: Shower, brush teeth, find clothes, put on make up, fix hair, make lunch and coffee, make sure I have supplies for pumping (yes I am still breastfeeding), nurse my son, take the dogs out, wait a minute, did I eat breakfast? Crap....no time for real sustenance...cereal will have to do even though it messes up my blood sugar and I'll feel starving by lunch ti...

 In our short, twenty minute class period, I had my Composition students go outside and use their senses to create a piece of writing. As always, I write with my students to practice my own skills but also to provide them with an example/model. Here is my short piece from today: As the smell of fresh coffee clings to my clothes, I step outside the school building. My students stand before me, quiet, waiting, wondering what the heck am I having them do. I understand those thoughts; once, I too have teachers who made me do “odd” things that I always really enjoyed. The weirder the teacher the more comfortable I felt. Now, as an adult, I attempt to fill such large shoes, trying to inspire and instruct young minds. Some days go better than others. However, this fast-paced Friday flew by peacefully, and after a rushed and rocky start, the ground feels firmer beneath my feet. Even the weather has improved suggesting sunnier days ahead. The wind pushes my hair and hugs my mask-free fa...