Tale Weaver – #300 – Bubbles – November 5th.

For MLMM: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/11/05/tale-weaver-300-bubbles-november-5th/

Protection

If I had a bubble 

I’d roll myself inside 

Then I wouldn’t wonder 

How I have to hide 

From the creepy creatures 

Like spiders or centipedes 

The bubble will have saved me 

No connection can succeed.

©2020 CBialczak Poetry

I am terribly afraid of spiders. I have tried to desensitize myself. When I was student teaching the teacher I was working under had me do a whole spider lesson with the kids to get me past the fear. I have had to get help for nightmares, when they are bad I cannot sleep. Some people think it is funny and enjoy either showing me spider pictures or fake spiders, but it really isn’t funny. When I was teaching my own class and the kids would find out how I feel, I would teach them about sensitivity and empathy using myself as the example. When my kids were little, I tried to never show them my fear. My daughter, however, is terrified! I have had to go to her apartment to get a spider when she has been alone with no one to help her.

Fandango’s Dog Days of August

Today’s theme is “a lesson you learned.” What is a lesson that you learned along the way? How did you learn the lesson? Who did you learn it from? How did that lesson change your life, it at all? https://fivedotoh.com/2020/08/21/fandangos-dog-days-of-august-21/

My lesson

When I got my first teaching job I had no idea what kind of school I was asking to work in. All I knew then was that I wanted a teaching job so badly and I had applied to every town within commuting distance. When I showed up for my interview I met the principal in her office which was also the tiny kitchenette. The school was in an old Victorian house in a very poor end of the city, very economically disadvantaged. The place was fairly quiet. She interviewed me and practically hired me on the spot. I had all the credentials and the demeanor to fit the job.

Jump ahead to my first day: I walk into my classroom which is a tiny room about 12′ X 8′. There were three kids sitting around a table and someone watching the kids while I got situated. “Where are the teaching materials?” no response. “What am I supposed to teach them?” no response.

Cutting the story short here, because I could write and write, it was a Clinical Day Program for emotionally disturbed children who were socially and behaviorally inappropriate for public schooling, as they had worn out all other interventions. Wow, I didn’t know that even existed!

So, I “love” my new job. I really did and I was getting in shape both restraining children who were physically aggressive or chasing “runners” down the street. There was this one boy, we will call him Charlie. He was a spoiled boy, his mother coddled him every minute of every day. His behavior was horrendous, physical, verbal, you name it. The mother “yes’ed” us to death and nothing improved. We had a staff meeting one day to discuss what to do next as he was getting bigger (in 4th grade almost my height, 5’3″). We were talking, thinking, brainstorming.

Being a new teacher, especially with this population, I made a comment like this: “If only his mother did something. She is half of the problem if not all of it. Does she even discipline him at home?”

Silence.

My principal looked at me and said, “You cannot judge the parents. You have no idea what they are going through and although we have their kids for 6.5 hours a day, they had them the rest of the 24 hours. They are challenged economically and some have their own psychiatric issues. You will never know what they go through unless you go through it in your own life.”

Well, that shut me up.

It also helped give me a new perspective on the kids, their families, and my role. You don’t know what people go through behind closed doors.

Years later, my son was bullied and displayed some of the behaviors I dealt with as a teacher. It really kicked me in the ass and I have NEVER forgotten what I was told. That day I became a better person.

©2020  CBialczak

Photo Challenge #314

woman wearing white dress doing head stand

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie: http://Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

My story

Many years ago, I was a lot younger and in better shape. I loved yoga and all of its benefits. I was good at it and loved that too! I am, or was, very flexible and after practicing for probably over a year, I was strong enough to do some of the more challenging poses. I just loved how I felt.

I cannot remember the exact year, but my hip suddenly began bothering me. It ached and hurt when I strained it. It slowly got worse, so bad that I couldn’t even stay in child’s pose because having my hip bent like that became terribly painful.

I went to see numerous doctors. Orthopedists, Rheumatologists, Primary Care…Finally, I found a doctor who specialized in hips (sort of) and found that the labrum in my hip was torn. https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/hip-labral-tear/symptoms-causes/syc-20354873 I had surgery and thought I would be okay.

For two more years I endured so much pain, so much to the point where I finally got the remedy I needed. My hip doctor sent me to a Hip Specialist (there are different levels of expertise in hips) and I found that the previous surgery hadn’t worked like it was supposed to. Apparently, when I had the first hip surgery the doctor removed the torn labrum in hopes that scar tissue would build up in the joint and act as cartilage. Well, it didn’t happen so for over two years it was bone on bone in my hip. So, I got a hip replacement at 45 years old.

Jump ahead to now….I’m 48. My hip still hurts almost all the time. It healed perfectly and looks fine under the xray but the doctor said I need to lose weight to keep the joint from hurting. That is great except too much movement makes other joints also hurt. That is the psoriatic arthritis.

Long story short, I am dying to get back into yoga and do the things I used to be able to do. I just need a way to get there. I will find that way, I know I will. I feel it coming.

Someday, that picture up above will be me, easily stretching, getting warmed up for a beautiful yoga practice!

Day Twenty:

NaPoWriMo
http://www.napowrimo.net/

mary’s googlehuff cake

It may sound a bit silly 
but back on that day 
I thought it too hilly 
to walk up that way. 

But here came my neighbor 
with cake in her hand 
held out before her 
just as she planned.  

She made it for us 
since we just moved in 
she said it’s no fuss 
in her great big kitchen. 

I found out years later 
that there were two cakes 
one made to cater 
the dog ate it for God’s sakes.  

So she had to make one 
that was whole and delish 
Sugar powered when done 
A beautiful dish.  

I remember just thinking 
“wow here’s a good friend” 
We now sit ‘round drinking 
we’ll be friends to the end.  

©2020 CBialczak Poetry

Magic: Quadrille 100

#Quadrille 100: Abracadabra! Where’s My Magic Wand? https://dversepoets.com/2020/03/23/quadrille-100-abracadabra-wheres-my-magic-wand/

My sign: I believe

I lay upon my bed 
wishing for a sign 
so I don’t have to feel alone 
or feel the misery of loss. 

I enter the garden  
I walk among the stones 
of those put to rest  
forever.  

Two Pileated Woodpeckers find me. 
My sign. 

©2020 CBialczak

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #126

https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2020/03/12/reenas-exploration-challenge-126/

Craving Isolation

I crave isolation. 
After that first call 
I wanted to close my door 
and hide under the covers. 
Two children 
meant more to me 
than isolation. 

I crave isolation. 
After the second call 
I wanted to close my door 
and hide under the covers. 
One daughter and new love 
meant more to me  
than isolation. 

I crave isolation. 
No other calls have come 
I still want to close my door 
and hide under the covers. 
People who love me 
let me know 
I mean more to them 
than isolation.  

I am learning 
to resist the craving 
for isolation.  

©2020 CBialczak

Slice: A true story

It’s Six Sentence Story Thursday Link Up! https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2020/02/26/its-six-sentence-story-thursday-link-up-96/

When I was growing up my mother knew that the only way anyone was going to eat fruit was to have it already sliced and ready to eat. Each slice of watermelon, juicy and sweet. Each slice of cantaloupe melting in your mouth. If she did not slice it, the fruit would sit in the refrigerator until it rotted and had to be thrown out. So instead of wasting so much good food, she washed it and sliced it and everyone gobbled up every last bit of fruit. As a mother, I did the same thing and as you may have guessed, fruit disappears just as fast as I slice it. 

VJ’s Weekly Challenge: regulars

When I think of regulars I think of Charlie. If anyone is reading this that worked with me at the restaurant I believe you are smiling right now. I will never forget Charlie. Genuinely nice. I remember one year I asked him to come to Christmas Eve dinner at my house. He was alone and I loved having an open door for Christmas Eve. He never did come. I don’t think Charlie is here with us anymore. RIP Charlie.

I can list so many other regulars that have been in my life. The guy on Saturday mornings that came for a cup of coffee and always left 25 cents for the tip. The couples who would order the same thing every time. Now I am a regular at two places, one for breakfast, one for lunch and dinner. I do order almost the same thing every time. What is it with the regulars?

V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #79: Subtraction

After my husband passed away in 2018 I decided I was done with all of the stuff we had accumulated as a couple. I wanted to minimize my load and start fresh. I sold just about everything! Dining room furniture, dishes, pots, pans, pictures, clothing, books, stereos, Christmas decorations, I mean everything! I kept the real important stuff that meant something to me but I let go of the rest. It felt good and bad. I cried over it so many times. I mean that was the past 20 years of my life being sold or donated! But, as I had been told by more than one person, this was my new life, I had to get used to it.

After my son passed away in 2019 I got rid of even more. I kept the things that I felt were good reminders of who he was as a person, the rest was just stuff. I wasn’t able to keep his room intact for long, unlike other people who find comfort in it. To me it was just a fake sense of “maybe he will be back”. Like I have said before, “everyone does it differently”.

So, when I think of subtraction, I have a lot less than I did even two years ago. I have gained some things like a wonderful companion and friend who shows me so much love. I have also gained, or actually regained, a wonderful relationship with my daughter, who is probably one of the most beautiful, caring, smart people I know. It feels okay sometimes to live with less. Sometimes I think how it would be nice to just turn back time and maybe get rid of a lot of it without losing two people I loved but God has made his decisions and that I must live with. The clutter is something I can live without!

What do you see? #12

He calls me Unicorn 

Underneath the magic  
There shines a little light 
That brings you through the darkness 
To have a brighter sight. 

The magic is compelling 
As anyone can see 
That’s why he calls me Unicorn 
A bit of fantasy.  

He says that I am special 
And that my love is pure 
I know that he has helped me 
Through sorrow, he’s my cure. 

I do feel quite at peace with him 
Despite what others think 
My love is true and so is his 
He is my missing link.  

©2020 C Bialczak