I keep thinking I will have time to deal with that struggle or frustration later. Right now, I have to get work done, eat my lunch, wash the dishes, drive to run errands, etc. There are always items on the lists of things I need to get done. Some have to wait til tomorrow and cannot get done today. Like the inspection on my car that I have to get done before Monday. It will have to wait buried under the pile of papers that also must be finished by Monday but really should be done before then so that my students have them. The laundry I need to get done has to wait even though I am down to the uncomfortable clothes. So much that has to wait and so much that has to be done.

I was talking to my coworkers about a section from Shonda Rhimes “A Year of Yes” book where she explains how she cannot “do it all.” How excelling in one area of your life means missing or falling short in another area.  I think it is true for everyone but I feel it more now, in motherhood because my time is more valuable now. My time that I can spend with Levi has now become more valuable to me than spending that time doing pretty much anything else. This is both healthy and unhealthy, I know. And someday, a balance will happen. Someday. But today, I have many, many essays to grade and a baby I can’t wait to hold. So, this may be my only post this week. I may put off other things that I want to do and I will definitely put off things that I do not want to do. Because I will not look back and wish I had worked more.

But for now, I will share that I had an amazing day with my students who, I think, felt inspired as well. We were using Langston Hughes’ “Harlem” poem as a mentor text to write our own. I read some truly amazing responses that really made me happy, even if their topic was sad, because these kids are feeling more confident and more like writers every day. That is our goal this year- to help our kids see themselves as writers and readers. I think because this is our goal, and we have very intentional lessons to help make this happen, we are succeeding at this much more than we ever have. I feel very hopeful.

My poem from today was about burying deep down and avoiding dealing with my own frustrations, struggles, postpartum, loss, etc. I am good at avoiding conflict and I am decent at ‘faking it til I make it.’ Mostly because a lot of it is too overwhelming to deal with all of at once. So I take a spoonful of it at a time. All the while wishing a spoonful of sugar would help the troubles disappear (I already have them down.) But I do wonder, what will happen if I keep bucking up and dealing with my day to day while not dealing with the difficult stuff? I don’t know. I can only hope that it will wait to implode until I can deal with it a spoonful at a time. Because that is all I can handle of the bitter and sad feelings at a time, a spoonful.

(my poem as inspired by Langston Hughes’ “Harlem”)

What happens to a sadness buried?

Does it wither

like a flower without water?

Or multiply like an infection-

and then spread?

Does it hide in plain sight like an invisibility cloak?

or rise and boil over

like a neglected pot?

Maybe it just drags like a weight chained to your ankle.

Or does it destroy?