I’m sorry. I’ve been extremely busy with a number of things and haven’t been able to keep up with posting introductions/making short freewrites to introduce these posts.
I didn’t realize the impression these poems would leave when read altogether. For me, they are just a sampling of my day-to-day life which, over the past two weeks, has included the death of my grandmother and nursing my one-year-old son through a five-day sickness that was unlike anything I’ve experienced with my other two children.
Some of the poems, like the one about watching the medicine drip by a bedside are a combination of me imagining my father’s experiences and using the images I observed while video chatting with my grandmother just before she passed away.
Others, like the morning glory poem, aren’t actually about death, but about education in general and questions surrounding the home life of particular students (prompted by actual observations of students’ morning glory plants).
I think the absence of a bit of narrative, and the skipping of a week's post, did cause me to think the difficulties were greater, although losing a grandmother is not easy at all. Having a very sick child is pretty difficult too, they are so helpless seeming, and sometimes we feel helpless too.
I just remembered the time one of my daughters was so very sweet while she was sick, and so very rude once she got better, that I actually said to her "I liked you better when you were sick." !!!! Parenting fail! She loves me still, at the ripe old age of 33, so it's OK, but boy did I make some bad moves with my kids.
I started to write a narrative and then found that I didn’t know where to begin, and as soon as I felt like I was losing time, I decided to just go with a poems only post again.
I don’t particularly like making diary type introductions, so if I can’t find something to connect my weekly narrative too, I generally don't feel very good about it.
It turned out my son just had roseola (I think that is the correct translation), but he had a steady fever of 40 degrees and slightly higher for three days, which is 104 degrees Fahrenheit, and there were times when his breathing got strange so I found myself feeling very torn about whether to run to the hospital or not.
It was a bit scary at times, and with the death of my grandmother on my mind, my thoughts were a bit extreme.
I’m sorry. I’ve been extremely busy with a number of things and haven’t been able to keep up with posting introductions/making short freewrites to introduce these posts.
I didn’t realize the impression these poems would leave when read altogether. For me, they are just a sampling of my day-to-day life which, over the past two weeks, has included the death of my grandmother and nursing my one-year-old son through a five-day sickness that was unlike anything I’ve experienced with my other two children.
Some of the poems, like the one about watching the medicine drip by a bedside are a combination of me imagining my father’s experiences and using the images I observed while video chatting with my grandmother just before she passed away.
Others, like the morning glory poem, aren’t actually about death, but about education in general and questions surrounding the home life of particular students (prompted by actual observations of students’ morning glory plants).
I think the absence of a bit of narrative, and the skipping of a week's post, did cause me to think the difficulties were greater, although losing a grandmother is not easy at all. Having a very sick child is pretty difficult too, they are so helpless seeming, and sometimes we feel helpless too.
I just remembered the time one of my daughters was so very sweet while she was sick, and so very rude once she got better, that I actually said to her "I liked you better when you were sick." !!!! Parenting fail! She loves me still, at the ripe old age of 33, so it's OK, but boy did I make some bad moves with my kids.
I started to write a narrative and then found that I didn’t know where to begin, and as soon as I felt like I was losing time, I decided to just go with a poems only post again.
I don’t particularly like making diary type introductions, so if I can’t find something to connect my weekly narrative too, I generally don't feel very good about it.
It turned out my son just had roseola (I think that is the correct translation), but he had a steady fever of 40 degrees and slightly higher for three days, which is 104 degrees Fahrenheit, and there were times when his breathing got strange so I found myself feeling very torn about whether to run to the hospital or not.
It was a bit scary at times, and with the death of my grandmother on my mind, my thoughts were a bit extreme.