Christmas Quartet

The kids gave me presents that blew me away.

Nu brought home a healthy recipe book (standard school issue parent present) in November when we had no holiday wrapping paper yet. She made this to wrap her present in:

At got me this because my RBG tee was fraying:

Nu gave me an extra present (because she loves me best of all!). It's a chocolate countdown calendar! (And she teamed it with a bag of chocolate she got her dad to buy for her.) 

And Nu kept her creativity going by making the puppies a play yard:

My four kids are simply the best.

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Santa-Hat Triptych

NuNu designed and made these Santa's Hats based on something a class mom brought to their Holiday party... We improvised with some Pinterest help...




And the next day, she taught her brother too.

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The Beginning of the Alma Season...

Her family makes these ornaments,

and the awesome student 

(whom I've never had in class)

gave me one.

Aw!

I turned into an embarrassing 

blabbering mess of gratitude.

Gah.

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The Best Snuggler

...and smiler too.

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So Much Finals Craziness...

But as one of my students who colors for relaxation, reminds me:




I appreciate how Rosie is especially BROWN in my honor :).

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Post-Thanksgiving Cry

Found this in Nu's backpack

and the last item on the list 

made me a little weepy

so I Whatsapped it 

to my poor mom

and made her cry.

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The Face of Thanksgiving

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Most Improved XC

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Moar Diwali

Diwali Party at the C's

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Happy Deepavali 2015

Gor antha deepam

Konda antha velugu

(a sliver of flame

a mountain of light)

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Meet the Parents

Student event this evening, and the stories they've shared hang around my interactions with their families.

The man with the twinkly eyes lost a child to cancer.

The woman so proud of her daughter's accomplishments is herself a daughter struggling to help her elderly mother stay independent.

 So awed by how wonderful and brave people are.

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A Hug for Monday

The dress Anu Pinni sent

is happy camouflage.

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In Perfect Step

The Section Leader is 

particularly handsome.

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Fairness

At was at the XC Varsity event (filming the Girls' team). I stashed Nu in the UU kitchen, and worked the break room with coffee machine, creamer, and cookies for the homeless 'intake.'

And it was all brave, tidy, and everyone trying to be cheery.

But the family with the backpacks--perhaps the cheeriest of all--was the nub. B joked to the kids that there wasn't room on the bus and they'd be walking; the older one quipped, Again?" They didn't want to play card games but took turns on the phone. Got cookies when mom left the room for a smoke. And I wonder one more time why people like Donald Trump get to have so much cash for their tasteless crap and others don't have enough.

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Frieda

Sometime between ages 16 and 21…

First I fell in love with Ted Hughes. Then I fell in love with Sylvia Plath. Then I hated Ted Hughes,  while being mildly annoyed with Sylvia Plath. Then I took to raving against Hughes, and if you mentioned Plath's name would break down in angry tears. Then I pretended neither of them existed while reading their poetry secretly.

If that sounds exhausting,* how much more exhausting to be those intense, talented people, constantly under scrutiny and the pressure to perform.

Love Frieda Hughes' interview in which she talks about her parents. And I've come a long way from being that impressionable and emotional teenager who took everything personally, but still needed to hear this:

"To me, as a child, my father seemed to blame himself for almost everything. It was awful. A child does not want to see their parents suffer. Thousands of people all over the world every day split up, thousands of people have affairs. Not everyone kills themselves."

* Yes, it also sounds nerdy, but everyone knows that already.

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Official

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In the name of

"Friendship musical chairs"

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Halloween 2015

The Hybrids

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Blast from the Past

Yesterday's prom photo extravaganza

made us moms reminisce 

Their playdates and sleepovers,

 their silly sing alongs...

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Prom 2015

Guess Who's Out of Place?

At and me 

A nine-year-old's 

birthday partayyy.

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Nu-Sensical

Nu hasn't eaten her lunch--a wedge of Tortilla Española from dinner the day before.

Because: "You didn't pack me a fork!"

But: "I ate everything else! Even the sour cream for the tortilla. Although it wouldn't come out and I had to use my fingers."

It's a good thing then that FB sent me a great memory yesterday.

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Surrender

I lie
my feet in fetters

I rise
a canopy dweller

Let you
tell me

What I
already see


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I forgot...

...I was being filmed for a documentary on rape culture and showed up at work with workout hair and in my non-teaching uniform.

ThinkProgress

But it was a productive conversation, and I was so outraged by my own talking points that I forgot my customary camera wariness fairly quickly.

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I Need a Tiny Violin

I had a headache from spending an hour in the car with the teen driver today,

and all my mom had to WhatsApp back when I complained, was ":)."

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Little Leslie Hermione Knope

Nu gave up being bossy

at her American Girl 

Cooking Class...

to go show us

how to be bossy 

on the soccer field.

In this picture, she's jabbering 

with her coaches 

she's SO cute!

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Up, Up and Away...

This post caught my eye on the sidebar this morning, and I got a little choked up. We don't know where At's friend R is or how he is.

And my own At--the champion of cuddles and calm, sometime spotter of grocery cash, constant companion--is now 16.

Sixteen. Still a champion and companion, but a grown up one. One who has plans to go away for college (no more: 'I'm going to live in the basement'), a critical thinker who questions my social justice outrage (more: 'is that the best way to convince people?'), still somewhat wiser than his years (A lot of: 'Jesus, Mom! I told you not to engage in arguments with hate groups!'). 

And clearly more comfortable with swearing--and every aspect of himself--every day.

I am so incredibly proud.

And so unready.

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And on the Teen Clockmaker...

They never thought he had a bomb- by Andy Illes

I said: it's sad they thought that kid had a bomb.

She said: they didn't think he had a bomb.

I said: yes, they thought he made a bomb and even called the police.

She said: They just wanted to humiliate a little Muslim, African boy. They didn't think he had a bomb.
I said: Don't be a conspiracist. They might be a little prejudiced, but I'm sure they thought he had a bomb.

She said: Ok.

But they didn't evacuate the school, like you do when there's a bomb.

They didn't call a bomb squad - like you do when there's a bomb

They didn't get as far away from him as possible - like you do when there's a bomb.

Then they put him and the clock in an office- not like you do when there's a bomb

Then they waited with him for the police to arrive.

Then they put the clock in the same car as the police.

Then they took pictures of it.

I said: Damn
They never thought he had a bomb.

From here: 

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Almost...

Pic courtesy J C-D

All I can think of is the poet Kambar 

talking about how magnificent 

young Rama's shoulders were:

*

"Thol kandar; tholey kandar!"

"Those who saw his shoulders,

saw only his shoulders!"

*

(Those shoulders--so perfect, 

no one could look away AND

so broad that they never got around

to completing the act of looking)

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Remembering

The way she says, "forever"
makes it sound like a long word.

She's never heard of "never"
it falls behind her mind's hedge

The sun peers into my eyes
today, the way she used to--

Tugging my eyelids open
saying, "you're awake now?"

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Twins: The International and Anachronistic Edition

"I had the same glasses 

and headband at seven,

and I still love that book."

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Matchy, matchy, matchy

And you can tell the weather has turned…

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Hero

Among all the stories circulating around today,

this was the one that made me cry (first).

The story of the last living 

9/11 search and rescue dog, 

Bretagne.

And the 2,976 American,

 48,644 Afghani, 

1,690,930 Iraqi, 

3,500 Pakistani,

victims

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Ode to August

Memories of mud
of being handled
by sun

Peonies peeling so
dense, opulent,
blushing

Earth unevened by
legions of night
travelers

I rule lying in wait
waiting to be
caught

Until, we ourselves
O love, are unruly
habit

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Some Mornings

The sky is full of faces
we greet them
at breakfast

While the wind fumbles
sighing, tired
at the door


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The First Day of School

called for pink

and 

wrestling


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Illusion

The day may never end
its intimacy with salty
kisses

As if I'm someone else
reading backwards--
breaks


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Miles and miles...

Pic courtesy JC-D

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Tradition….

Tiny pine seedlings

from the Traditions dinner. 

Hope to see how big they grow--

and how far my students can go.

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My youngest student today...

So quiet and studious in my FYS class today…

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Trans-Local

Dad's big birthday today

We're just too far away.

But we get

an archana and a pattu

veshti for Ganesha.

And for ourselves,

lunch (with Mimosas).

Now we''re celebrating

(Even though

the birthday boy is teetotal.)

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Siblings

Happy Raksha Bandan, little ones

May you always love each other

and be each other's protection.

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After I flew back from India…

All of NuNu's butterflies 

were ready to fly away…

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From Dinosaurs to Diner

These two are the best.

(We went to Jurassic World before lunch.)

-

Child Services might want to take a look at this journal

(Lilliana was a kind little girl who loved loins...)

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I love my students...

And some days they love me back extra...

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Power Fails

Light a candle

And wait...

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At Yellowstone...

I had visions of puppies playing in the water.

But they were convinced the wavelets were foe.

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I Just Can't Get Enough

 The Grand Tetons...

More like the GRANDEST.

Road Trip

Are there tigers in Scotland?

Face-painted at the Highland Festival.

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Doll + Baby

Clem got glasses too

like Nu

(in New York).

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