Being Here Tonight

This afternoon, I rode the bus back from my teaching job.  The driver – it’s always the same woman – pulled up to my stop, and I pushed open the back doors.  The air was especially brisk as it hit my face.  I had a handful of errands to run by bike with my children today before dinner, so my steps were quick.  The wind picked up behind me, pushing me along.

When I walked in,the house felt a little cozier than usual.  My children, in turtlenecks and wool socks, were gathered around their aunt at the kitchen table.  There were still a few peanut butter cookies left.  As my boys poured forth all the news of their day, I washed my hands.  I let my frozen fingertips linger under the warm water, considering my to do list.  I looked outside, and saw a veil of heavy raindrops spill down from the sky.  A few of them became slush as they hit the window: frozen rain.

On the sofa, the children had installed a down comforter and a stack of picture books.  I imagined a cup of tea there, too.  Hot tea.  I glanced again at the freezing rain on the other side of the window, then to the picture books.  I mentally moved the handful of errands in my appointment calendar for Wednesday afternoon into the Thursday column. 

If you are a parent, then you already know what it is to have a little more on your plate than can be comfortably tucked into.  I hope that you also know the pleasure of putting the to-do list aside from time to time.  In my opinion, one of the unexpected benefits of getting around by bike is that, sometimes, I decide not to do it.

I could have made it work to get out on that errand somehow.  If the errand was really urgent, I could have left my children with the neighbor for a few minutes while I ran around on my bike.  I could have chosen to do the highest priority errand by bus.  I could have made it work to get everyone outside and on the bike had I really needed to.

But none of those options felt quite right.  So I looked at my list, realized that nothing really had to be done right away, and reorganized my calendar a bit.  I fished a cookie out of the jar.  I set the teakettle to boil, and asked my children which books we ought to read first.

As we pulled the comforter around us, the first few flakes of snow found their way out of the clouds.  Perfect. 

I wrote this post on Wednesday evening, but didn't have a chance to proofread and post it until after midnight.  I decided to preserve some language that reflected the original moment at which I wrote this: tonight, this afternoon, etc.

Butterflies and Balloons: First Bus Commute to My New Job

Last week I started a new, very part time teaching job teaching writing classes at a small rural elementary school.  When I taught here a few years ago, I drove.  Even with something interesting on the radio, and beautiful scenery on the way, it was a kind of a dull commute.  I remember thinking that I would have rather been doing almost anything else while I had childcare for Bigger (who was only a year old at the time) than feeling stuck in my car.

As I was planning my first bus commute last week, I was curious about how the trip would turn out.  Would it still feel like I was squandering those precious minutes of childcare?  I was also concerned about the cargo I was planning to bring: 14 helium-filled balloons along with a heavy bag.  Would it be too awkward to carry these things on the bus?  Would the bus commute hamper my creativity as a teacher by limiting what I could bring to school with me?

As it turned out, I was too nervous to really enjoy my commute there, or to notice much about it.  Most teachers get a case of butterflies in the stomach on the first day of school.  For me on this particular first day, those first day jitters were pretty intense, since it's been two years since I last taught in a classroom.  Witness my self-portrait on the bus ride there, below:

You probably can't tell that I'm trying to smile.  My crazy hair isn't helping, either.  Okay, here's shot number two, trying harder.

Not really much more genuine, right?  I just gave up after that.

Aside from my nerves, though, the morning bus ride was just fine.  It was no problem to bring the balloons with me, and in fact, no one even mentioned them during my trip.  My bags were not all that heavy.  I made it to the school about ten minutes earlier than I had expected to, giving me some extra time to catch up with the school's office manager (an incredible woman, I think that school secretaries should run the world) and catch my breath before setting up for my lessons and collecting students.

And the students?  They are wonderful!  I already love them.  We used the balloons as a prop for our first lesson, about finding inspiration for writing in ordinary life.  Then each child composed something very short, taped it to a balloon, cut the ribbon, and let it fly away.  I wish I could post the photos here! 

After I finished teaching, I had some time at school to do some prep work for my next lesson and help out a little in the classroom of a friend from grad school.  I arrived at the bus stop with plenty of time to read before my bus arrived.  Reading for pleasure in the middle of the day?  That's this busy mother's definition of heaven.

 

On the bus, I had a chance to do some knitting.  I have this beautiful ivory baby alpaca yarn that I've been trying to make a cowl from since my birthday in October.  I've ripped it out several times because the width of the cowl or the type of stitch I chose just didn't feel right.  It was good to finally make some progress on it.

The bus was fairly quiet and mellow.  It was raining, and there were beautiful birds and trees outside.  A mother boarded the bus with her daughter, and they read a children's novel aloud in soft voices.  An older man asked me what I was knitting.  It was a pleasant trip.

So far, I really like my bus commute.  It's nice to have my hands and my mind free, and to be able to focus on whatever relaxing activity (or, um, gripping anxiety) I've brought with me.  I'm looking forward to my commute again this week.  And in the new year, I'm excited to try cycling some or all of it.  For you seasoned rural cyclists, biking 16 miles on country roads must be no big deal.  To me, though, it is a whole new world.  What better way, though, to practice what I preach as a teacher?  Children need to know that adults are sometimes beginners, too.