092518 yes, you have to do your work. but sometimes you have to listen to your daughter too, and answer her questions honestly when she asks “did... people... not *like*... my mom?” couple of things bedtime, ascending cel’s little ladder to say goodnight to her, just hugged her little legs cuz she was already ensconced in bed, and she was quiet because she and libby had been excitedly planning their matched set of halloween costumes--rosalina and peach--except that now, tonight, libby said, cel, do you think that maybe riley would want to go trick or treating with you? because my friends invited me and... and cel was basically fine with that more or less, but she didn’t quite fully get it, because she still thought they were going to be rosalina and peach, but lib said, no, I’m going to be elmo. Because we’re all going to be from sesame street. anna’s going to be grover, and so and so’s going to be cookie monster, lacey’s going to be the grouch... and that’s when cel got real quiet and just said, ok. and went up her little ladder and she was done talking for the night. now I know libby knew that this was going to be a thing, because she had asked me about it before, like “do you think cel’s going to be really upset; i feel bad” type of thing, and i just told her she had to make that decision for herself, and she did, and that’s how shit happens sometimes, and that’s part of growing up, and it’s fine, it’s good, it’s normal, but it makes my heart feel groaning and heavy like the long low notes on an organ, and i looked across the room, and over there by the other bunk, pinned up on the wall, from when lib slept up there, were perler bead letters spelling out “LIB” & “CAL” (that’s pronounced “sal” you know), and it just burns up my heart in a slow coal fire, because i wish they could remain lib and cal forever, faithful and true, and not fade away like me and chris, and not get stormy and angry and tearful like meg and mil, i just for once want that sweet perfect thing to be real, and not just another make believe fantasy only kids are allowed to believe in. and i could feel cel sitting there, getting just *buffeted* by the full force of the first time of maybe not being so sure you can believe it any more. and i just want to give my littlest girl a big hug, a big huge hug forever. don’t get me wrong, i want to give them all hugs forever, but you know what i mean. it fluctuates, who seems to need it the most at any given moment. probably they all -- we all -- need it way more often than we all realize. sometimes it’s hard to ask for what you need. sometimes when you need to communicate the most, is when it’s hardest to do so. millie. millie’s been kind of affectionate in a bumping-up-against and leaning-on sort of catlike way. that’s nice.. takes me a little off guard sometimes though. i hope she doesn’t think i’m being aloof. it’s just so... it’s been so long since... was she ever like that? probably when she was really really little. remember walking around and around and around the circle of the first floor here, with each of them in turn, trying to give ann a chance to sleep for a while, just holding whoever was the littlest at the time, just holding her and walking around and around and around and around and around until she fell asleep finally, and i was about ready to? me too. the city lights would pass by every rotation: from the stereo, from the microwave, from the stove, from a hard drive... so many little satellites of led signals blinking out into the wide vast night skies of the living room and the kitchen. as me and my baby walk by, again and again, around and around, rotating as faithfully as any planet in the cinderella zone. so but yeah. megan’s signed up to take that dance class, and that’s cool, but it’s another thing that hurts my heart because she’s probably going to go to it alone, because that stupid boy flaked out on her. weeks later: oh yeah, i lied, i actually do have a girlfriend. and not only that, but it matters, apparently. oh god, i do not miss that part of socalled youth. do i? no, i don’t think i do. i miss the lean body and the supple joints and the boundless energy and the oblivious cheerful future. i don’t miss how *serious* everything was all the time. And not that we pretended it was serious--it really was! That’s the weird thing about it. Kids are so goddamned serious all the time. At least sometimes. about some things. whose fault was that? at least we had something like actual sex ed, for fuck’s sake. this fucking country is sticking its fucking head in the sand, morally. it’s fucking pathetic. and whose fault is that? Why are we going down this path? Why is there a pendulum at all? Is the pendulum an illusion? Is there a bunch more complexity to the pattern, than just back and forth? Is the moral evolution of a human society more of a strange attractor? Do our questions imply their answers? I love being a teacher. There. I just had to say that. I love my job. It feels so raunchy to say that! It’s more transgressive than saying I’m gay or whatever. It’s more scary and more satisfying. But I do. When I’m in that zone, making those connections, feeling those rhythmns, not sure what the next thing i’m going to say is, feeling like i’m not completely useless and i might actually be someone that a couple of these kids actually kind of look up to, that’s pretty fucking amazing. it’s fun. it’s fun because i get to be nerdy and actually like talking about literature and mean it, and not be faking it, and the ones that groove on that can groove on that with me and i can feel like i’m really giving something back to my community, and the ones that don’t like it don’t bother me because we don’t have to do dumb babysitting shit because it’s an online school, and even those ones i sometimes oddly enough end up having little connections with. I’ve learned a lot about respect and about how age doesn’t matter very much. There’s a lot of really interesting, alive, vital, cool people out there. A lot of them are my students. I love them all, in some weird little way. It’s cool. it’s just really fucking cool, and i’ve learned so much too about how to be grateful. you don’t have to try. you just have to stop trying not to.