The Love Song of Mrs. Jones

I'm in the process of collecting work for my graduate application portfolio and came across this little poem.  Just thought I'd share.

The Love Song of Mrs. Jones 
 

The voices of the children are like tinkling glass

And for a moment

Their song is all I hear.

A ray of morning sun shines through the window,

Skips atop the baby girl’s sandy curls

And lands on my folded hands.

Once slender and smooth,

They now creak and bend as one tries to smooth away

The wrinkles of the other. 

I do not tell them how you held that hand

As Sade played,

Because they would not understand that it wasn’t love.

Was it.

They do not know how friends can sit in silence

And just comfortably be

Like you and me.

But even in the silence

The words danced between us.

They hovered above our heads mid-conversation,

Ever threatening, but never managing,

To manifest themselves into something other than a thing.

A thing we had once

At times

Still

Always 

And now I sit here gazing at these beautiful children

Who are not yours,

Listening to the shuffling of the morning paper

In the hands of a still-strong, black man

Who is not you.

I think we knew, even then

We would live our lives out separately,

Happily. 

But today

When my grandkids asked me to explain “forever”

I wanted to tell them your name. 

AFH

6/7/07

Back to Life, Back to Reality

(I bet somebody started hummin' the song)

I've realized that everything that I post here need not be life-changing news. Besides, most of the time, we are unaware of the signficance of life's daily events until long after they've passed.
I don't know how much this afternoon will matter in the grand scheme of things, but I do know that, right now, it matters.

I need it.
It very well might be my last stress-free Sunday evening for a long while.

Usually, Sunday afternoons are fraught with the panic that comes from realizing that tomorrow is Monday and there's still a whole weeks' worth of lesson planning ahead. In spite of random bouts of binge-grading throughout the weekend, the pile of quizzes/papers/homework is still hurricane storm surge high.
Sitting at the computer for hours, hands on my forehead, trying desperately to squeeze out meaningful, culturally-relevant, student-centered, intellectually-stimulating activities and assessments for a group of people more interested in L'il Wayne than writing analytical paragraphs. (And I doubt L'il Wayne could write one)

This. Every Sunday of the school year. Without fail.

But not today. Today, I will eat orange-cranberry scones and watch B movies on DVD with my daughter and bf. They will be spared my desperate, semi-rhetorical questions about objective tracking. Their "Did you see that"(s) will be met with something other than a grunt from behind the electric glow of my laptop.

No, this afternoon probably won't bring breakthrough in the field of college-preparatory education for under-privileged youth, but it will be good for me.

Makes me wonder which life is real. This one? Or the planning-grading-teaching-meeting frenzy that is my other life?

Stir Crazy

This is day 7 away from home.
According to CenterPoint Energy's new schedule, power should be restored to my neighborhood by Monday.
So, I'm stranded here, in Katy, at my bf's parent's house (good Lord, I use a lot of commas...and parentheses).
I've been trying to make myself grade, but I keep getting distracted by Disney specials, news updates, political commentary, the 3 books I'm trying to read simultaneously, my daughter, new snack ideas, and impromptu naps.
I need to get back to business. I need Houston to bounce back before I turn into a....who-knows-what.
As much as I hate to admit it, I like schedules. I find myself trying to map out my days in 55 minute increments. Teacher mode.

Today's schedule: (purposely NOT 55 min increments...trying to live on the edge here!)

9:00 - 10:00 - watch tv with Leila
10:00 - 10:30 - make and eat breakfast
10:30 - 11:35 - check emails, blog, etc.
11:35 - 12:35 - do something domestic (laundry, tidy up, etc)
12:40 - 1:30 - grade!
1:30 - 2:00 - make and eat lunch
2:00 - 3 ish - read and/or take nap
3:30 - 4:30 - take Leila to the park
4:40 - 6:00 - try not to be bored....perhaps try to do some lesson planning
rest of the evening - TBD

Sounds thrilling huh!
I must say that I do feel a little better having a schedule though...even though it's unlikely to bring me closer to self-actualization.

(shrugs)

UPDATE - 9/20/08

Lights!!
Electricity was restored Friday afternoon. I'm back at home now. I'm still a bit queasy after cleaning out the refrigerator. It was torture.

Fates Worse Than "Certain Death"

Houston...home to the Johnson Space Center, Astros, Rockets, Comets & Texans, a booming oil industry, live music, theatre, ballet, opera, museums, and millions of people.

Millions of people without electricity.

I am one of them.

On Friday, Sept 15th, at about 8:15 pm, the lights went out. I thought I'd be ready, but at that moment, pangs of uncertainty stabbed at my chest.

Leila was in the bathtub. No clothes were packed, no furniture had been secured and Hurricane Ike was most certainly coming. I darted around in the dark, lighting candles, collecting supplies and trying to lay hold on some sense of calm.

Even with all the news coverage, severe weather warnings, updates and preparation suggestions...no matter how many times CNN reporters uttered the phrase "certain death" , I still wasn't ready for Ike. The 70mph wind gusts and heavy rain tore at my house, peeling off tiles and thrashing it with tree branches. Lightning flashed every other second...for hours.

Finally it stopped.

I had not died (though others were not so lucky).

Saturday morning I ventured out to survey the damage.

My house was pretty much intact (minus a considerable number of shingles and the wooden fence that, at one time, separated my meager yard from my neighbor's).

It would just require a little clean-up. City officials reported significant damage in other parts of town. Flooding in homes, fallen traffic lights and trees, windows blown out of high-rise buildings downtown. They estimated 2-4 weeks before all 2.2 million Houston residents without power would be able to turn on their lights.

I shrugged. "There's no way it could take that long".

Saturday evening, already tired of the stiffling heat, we headed over to my bf's parents home in Katy. They had just gotten power. We'd go back home as soon as we got the word that power had been restored at our house.

Sunday passed, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Still no power. I cringe to think about what the contents of my refrigerator is doing right now.

But I have precious little time to worry about it. You see, with schools cancelled all the way from Galveston to Huntsville, I've got a little time off work. And being the glutton for punishment that I am, I offered to babysit my bf's sister's two children...ages 5 & 19 mths.

Just think....1 hurricane aftermath (including fuel shortages, closed businesses, general uncertainty) + 3 children - the patience of Kate Gosling (from Jon and Kate plus 8) ...or Ghandi.... and you've got a fate worse than "facing certain death." I'm not exaggerating (very much).

Not convinced? See below.

Child #1 : I'm bored

Me: Why don't you girls play a quiet game?

Child #2: Okay, let's see who can flip off the couch!

Me: No. No couch flipping.

Child #2: See! I told you she wouldn't let us do it. Stupid.

Me: Don't call her stupid.

Child #1: I'm tellin'. She called me stupid! (burst into tears). You not my friend no more!

Child #2: So! You called me names too! For real! (turning to me) She did! Yesterday.

Baby: Bababahhhhh!!

Me: Where's the baby?

Child #1: He wanna go downstairs

Me: (darting over to the stairs....for the 33rd time) No! Come back here!

Baby: Awan bah! Awan bah! [translation: I want ball]...(bursts into tears)

It goes on...really.

But I'll spare you.

Let's just say that I make a waaaaay better high school teacher than stay-at-home-mom.

Seriously, in times like these, we're tempted to complain about our circumstances. I know I am. I mean, I do. But then I think about the reality of all of this.

Thousands are worried sick about their businesses, their families, their homes. We don't know when everything will go back to normal...or if it ever really will.

But for those who stared down "certain death" and survived, even for those only slightly inconvenienced by a lack of electricity, there is much to be thankful for.

Helen Keller said it best..." Life is an adventure or it is nothing"

Imagine what life would be like if nothing unexpected ever happened. Now THAT would be a fate worse than death.

Fits and Starts

Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

I thought that would help, but not surprisingly, I still feel like crap.

I'm not sure whether it's the lack of sleep, hunger, pile of grading, housework, miscommunication with my S.O., absence of visible progress towards life goals, or the Hannah Montana re-runs my daughter insists on watching that's to blame for my general malaise. It's probably a combination of all of 'em (but definitely exacerbated by Hannah Montana).

It feels like I'm about one "Faith, do you think you could..." away from a fit.
I need some Fruity Pebbles.

[Insert words of wisdom and inspiration here]

Really, I have no answers of my own. No 12-step plan to a simple life. But do I even need one?(that plan or that life?)
What I want out of life is not simple.
Guess I'm just a glutton for punishment. Or crazy.

Ugghhhh!!!!

Okay. That's over...for now.
Dinner cooking, litterbox cleaning, bedtime story reading, short essay grading, laundry drying, lesson planning and intermittent incapacitation await!

Depth perception

I find that whenever I don't have a clearly defined plan, I don't get anywhere. - Laura C.

The teacher's lounge is a veritable buffet of spontaneous wisdom (and unique conjugations of the word "sh#t").
My colleagues are a unique collection of workaholics...true martyrs to the mission*. But sometimes I wonder if keeping our eyes on the prize keeps us from seeing where we are.

"Depth perception is the visual ability to perceive the world in 3 dimensions." According to Wikipedia (the obvious authority on all things) "it is a trait common to higher animals". And I...am a higher animal. I think.

In the physical world of vision, images projected onto the retina are 2-dimensional, but are perceived in 3 dimensions. I've realized that it is the same in the philosophical realm. If we're not conscious about it, we "higher animals" can fall victim to 2-dimensional vision. Seeing ourselves only in the light of what IS, rather than what can be.

I find myself guilty of 2-dimensional vision.

1st dimension - who I understand myself to be

2nd dimension - who other people think I am

3rd dimension - who I COULD be

I think depth perception can change my reality.

The pragmatic in me (currently sharing residence with the procrastinator and perfectionist....an unholy triune) forces me to narrow my focus to the reality I CAN control.

Time for a little backwards planning.

I could realize my vision of becoming an academic and published writer by getting my master's degree. The course of choice (not of practicality) is an MFA in Creative Writing with a focus on Creative Nonfiction.

As of right now, I have absolutely no way of paying for it and no time to DO it. Oh and I don't have any money (which I may have mentioned earlier, but am repeating for emphasis...you know, epanorthosis**)

Ignoring these facts, I have narrowed my options down to 3 MFA programs, and then narrowed things down to what I have to do this week to get in one of 'em.

Step 1 - Apply for a fee reduction to take the GRE
Step 2 - Research financial aid options
Step 3 - Write a personal statement
Step 4 - Pray

Heading off into the 3rd dimension. You with me?


*see www.yesprep.org then add 50-hr work weeks, community service projects, week-long field trips, conviction to make learning meaningful, limited resources and higher academic standards...and you've got yourself a YES teacher.
** epanorthosis: n. a rhetorical device in which something just said is repeated and stronger or more apt words are substituted. www.thefreedictionary.com