Four Years Old
Only four years old,
This blog is a big deal for me. It’s a way to help, to connect, to make a difference (even if it’s only for a few people) and a way to do something I love which is write. And it’s really taught me that I need to start writing again. I had started seriously writing again several years ago, but then I stopped because I was working full time, exhausted, suffering from anxiety and I never got back into it. So that’s the back story here, in a nutshell anyway.
How I Feel About Our “New Normal”
The beginning of the story about me and taking up the craft again is connected to this pandemic, and our “new normal.” I hate that phrase. What is happening right now, it not normal. Social/phyiscal distancing is not normal for human beings–we are social animals the same way parrots or monkeys are. We live in groups, survive in groups. We are not solitary animals like tigers. So this is not normal. Wearing masks is not normal, nor should it become the norm. All of this is temporary. So I hate hearing that phrase, I really do. Whew. It feels to get that off my chest. And my leap back into writing began with really strong emotions about heading back to work (I teach kindergarten) and the Covid protocols we have in place in schools. Students in my school board who are in kindergarten are not required to wear masks. But many parents send their children wearing masks, and that’s okay. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt my heart.
Because it hurts so bad. It hurts me to see their tiny faces covered up. It hurts me that I can’t see their smile, and they can’t see mine. It breaks my heart. And if you have ever raised children, or are currently raising a young child, you know that at four and five years old, they are still developing speech patterns, and learning to articulate certain sounds. It frustrates me to no end that I cannot understand them through those damn masks. Usually I could gander a guess at a lisped or mispronounced word, now I’m just lost. It’s not their fault, and it’s hard to keep asking a small child to repeat themselves over and over. So it’s been so hard for me to teach these little souls to distance, to wear a mask properly (which they try to do, but really are too young to do) and still try to teach them to take turns, problem solve as well as teach them numbers and their letter sounds. We are managing, and oddly, though it is different than it was before this pandemic, we are managing like we used to, with good days and bad days.
Coping With These Emotions
Starting work again has been extremely difficult for me. There are a plethora of reasons why, and Covid is only the tip of the iceberg. But, whenever I reach this level of emotional upset, where I can clearly identify why I am feeling the way I am feeling, but cannot do a thing to change the situation, I turn to writing. And so I am turning to writing again as creative expression is really the only way I have of coping with these emotions. Because I recognize that this time, self care alone is not enough. I need something more. I hope that this time, I can finally bring my writing to the next level.
I will share poems periodically with you here on Tidbits of Care. I have no idea how often as delving back into the craft is still so new. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share this poem after all. It feels like a risk, but it needs to be shared. I hope my poetry and other creative writing I may share is something you look forward to and enjoy about the blog.
Please share your thoughts and emotions about the poem in the comments below. I welcome feedback.
I am so happy to have read the first of many (I hope) creative poems from you! It is a sad and short piece, given deeper meaning by the story you share after it. I am sorry to hear of your struggles and hope that writing continues to be a helpful outlet for you.
Yeah, my husband thought it was fatalistic and I wasn’t going to share it because I wasn’t sure it was “good” enough, but I thought it didn’t matter somehow. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!
Always a joy!