While walking in line…

Walking in line is a hard thing to do for my kids and its understandable. We have a long way to go before we reach the cafeteria. The dynamics of my classroom makes it an interesting class. There are kids who fight in line, kids who decide it’s time to sit down for a conversation, kids who turn like pinwheels while walking (and cry when they fall down 😆😂)

The kids are walking in line as we head back to classroom from the cafeteria. One kid isn’t looking forward as she walks and as a result trips and falls into another kid who in turn loses balance and falls on one knee. I braced myself for the “Ms. SahhhRRAAA….. She puuushed meeeee!”

Instead I heard this:

R: OUCH! (Looked at the kid behind her and then at me. She got up and turned around and said, ” Are you ok-ke?”

They lock eyes, bring both their hands to their mouth, and giggle. So cute.

😊😍😌

i have a habit of internalizing

dreams, wishes, thoughts
they float around in my head until wobbling out onto paper
fully covered in ink

voice                                                                                                                      sometimes i drown myself in it and sometimes it drowns in me
Quiet does not equate to Silent
you cannot handle my silence

tears, hurt, pain
i tend to sit in my own silence, deafening
a ticking bomb
i may lose my sanity or i may lose my self

either way i’m lost to this world

I remember this one time I was doing the laundry in the backyard. When I stepped back, I felt something soft and alive under my sandal. I instantly froze as the hair all over my body stood up on its ends. I quickly stepped away and scanned the ground to see what in the world I had stepped on. Please don’t let it be a baby mouse, I thought to myself. We always have little mice scurrying out and about. GASP…. it was a baby bird, still and motionless. It must have fallen out of its nest, I thought as I scanned the birdhouse and tree branches for its parents. Horrified, thinking I had killed it with my foot, I ran and got ma, who was working in the garden. Unable to understand my squeamishness, not to mention my gibberish, she got the gist of what I was trying to say and went to check. She called me back and reluctantly, I went, staying at least ten feet away.

“Look”, she says, “it has already been dead for a while. Ants and other insects are already feasting on it.”

“I didn’t kill it?”, I asked as I inched forward and letting out a big sigh of relief.

I took a closer look. Ants and beetles were making their way through, over, under, and around the bird. Poor bird 😦 I wish its life had turned out better.

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Dwelling upon that memory, I saw a dead squirrel on the middle of the road again. I always try to avoid running over dead animals (and live ones) because just like stepping on the baby bird, I have a feeling that I will feel their lifeless bodies, so still and motionless, with my tires. Just thinking about it sends shivers down my spine. Plus, they’ve been through enough. I don’t want to add more to their misery.