A Blowout Win

A lovely young lady in my life has had a rough time of it.  She came from a very unhappy home, and she continued on to an abusive marriage.  She had gone from bad to worse.  Through the help of some very supportive friends who became her chosen family, she was able to disentangle herself from that former life.  It was a process of separation, though, and the path towards independence was far from straight.

Towards the end of the end of that journey, she faced a final hurdle with her abusive husband.  This is around the time I met her.  I was witness to her fortitude, and it was truly awesome to behold.  It was clear the man had no idea the depth of strength she has built up through the tumult.  She was finally at the point where she had faith enough in herself to stand up to him, and it was clear to her and to those around her that he was outmatched and outclassed.  

Not long after this ordeal, I was experimenting with writing from others’ points of view.  I’ve found that a great way to expand my own emotional understanding is to try to not only see things from the eyes of others but to do my best to understand their feelings as well.  I decided to take a shot at writing about my friend’s final fight with her former spouse.  I didn’t show it to her for a long time, but kept it to myself instead.  I recently showed her this piece, and she greatly appreciated it.  She said that, while it’s not exactly what she was feeling, it fit the situation fairly well. With her blessing, I’m sharing it with you below.

Prize Fighter

I am one word.

One match.

One single drop

On a still pond.

But my reach is wide,

It's deep,

And I will seep

Into every crack.

Each crevice I find,

Tiny chink in the male,

I'll exploit to the last.

I will not fail.

I am a tempest

In a teacup,

A maelstrom.

Formerly a marionette.

I was sweet

And so pliable,

But I've cut my strings

And learned to dance

To my own tune,

My own rhythm.

You can't hope to hear my drum

Nor catch its beat

On I'll go

Leaving you in my dust.

So far behind.

So full of rust.

Such a good tin soldier.

Marching on and on,

Never stopping to think,

Ne'er a wish for a brain.

Fight your fight.

I've already won.

I’ve collected my laurels,

I’ve cashed in my prize.

Fight on if you wish,

But know this:

I have already won.

All your effort

Is for naught.

Why is Friday the 13th Considered Unlucky??

Happy Friday the 13th!!  I am one of the least superstitious people you’ll ever meet, so instead of being scared of this day, I instead choose find the happy things happening.  Sometimes I also spend my time being amused at the superstitious concern of others.  I have good reason to discount the supposedly negative aspects of this dreaded day.  My first child was born happy and healthy on a Friday the 13th!

Yes, folks, the slightly disturbed mind has procreated… not just once, but twice!  I’ve got a boy and a girl, and I am bringing them up to be just as kooky as me.  Maybe even more so!  Girlie is in fourth grade, Boyo is in first grade.  

Girlie is a writer too.  One of her favorite things to do is to staple a bunch of papers together and make her own books.  She comes up with the most creative names for her characters.  All of her girls have beautiful names, and I’m sure some day I’ll have grandchildren with the loveliest names in their classes.  Her boy names don’t have quite the same creative flair to them, but I’ve always found boys names difficult to choose as well.  It took forever to choose Boyo’s name.

Boyo is a little techie.  He’s a video game lover.  He doesn’t just love to play them, though. He loves to research them.  Any time he’s on his tablet, it’s a toss up as to whether he’s actually playing a game or watching a video about new and better ways to play that game.  His greatest wish is that I would let him spend all of his time on his tablet.  His greatest wish has no hope of coming true!

So, there’s your little bit about my littles.  I may give you a bit more about them, but I feel very strongly that their privacy should be respected.  I limit their time and activities online, trying to balance digital independence and knowledge with safety.  It’s a tough row to hoe, but mama’s gotta do what mama’s gotta do!

A Glimpse Into My Day Job

Welcome back!  My previous post was a celebration of my recommitment to my blog. Who doesn’t want to celebrate with yummy dessert? In recommitting to my blog, I’m expanding my scope.  I’ll be letting you in on different aspects of my life.  Mind you, you’re not getting an all access pass, just a glimpse here and there.  The more you know me, the better you can relate to my writing.  I’ll probably include some self-analysis with some of my poems as well.

Today’s glimpse involves my job.  I love my job because it is full of challenges and is tremendously rewarding.  I get to make a profound difference in the life of a sophomore who goes to the school where I work.  Austin is a fifteen year old boy who has been diagnosed with autism.  He’s a bright kid, but he misses a lot of social cues.  This interferes with his relationships with peers and with teachers as well.  This is where I step in.

A huge part of my job is acting as Austin’s social interpreter.  I work in both directions: I help him understand others, and I help others understand him.  Austin really struggles to pick up on the humor of others.  Before he gets upset with the joker, I swoop in and let him know that they’re trying to have fun with him, not at his expense.  When Austin is responding to classmates, I help keep him in check without taking his own jokes so far that he hurts others’ feelings.

These interactions don’t always run smoothly.  Sometimes I have to think on my feet, and there are times when the kids--Austin included--outpace me! I never worry that my work day will be boring or monotonous.  Every day I learn more about how to better help Austin, and plenty of days I learn how to be a better person myself.

Dessert Delight

I get a kick out of you,

And you, and you,

and you over there too!

You all are lovely

In your own ways

Special and captivating

If only for the moment

For the day

For the night

It feels so right

So nice

The desire

The attention

The clamoring

It’s not that I’m thirsty

Ok, perhaps slightly parched

Not that things have been

In perpetual dryness

But my drive for hydration

Is higher than most

I do have a thirst

That outpaces the rest

But don’t count me out

Just for my appetite, dears.

I’m hungry enough

To devour you all

And still have room

For a special

delectable

dessert