August 22

Haiku:
My funny kittens
Running through the house like mad
Warm fuzzy feelings.

I tried for an  hour to come up with more, but nothing would come. 

August 17

More haikus:
Flailing, floundering
Fighting for direction
What am I doing?

Need to sleep for days
Why does morning come so soon?
Snoring on and on

August 16

 

Haikus:

Too much work to do

Not feeling like an adult

Not gonna do it

Creativity

Has now become a struggle

Is it important?

Put through a ringer

All energy has left me

Why is this so hard

August 4

I saw something online a little bot ago.  It was a call for two sentence horror stories.  These aren't great I grant you,  But it is the first time I've tried writing something that wasn't a Haiku.

The sound of her footsteps echoed in the street.  Even though she had stopped. EDIT: The sound of her footsteps echoed in the street.  She had long since stopped walking.

He stared into the mirror.  Nothing stared back.

June 18

Haiku time again.  They are as follows:

1.  Craziness abounds
     Preschool is not for sissies
     They are funny though

2. Bad throbbing headache
    They won't stop calling my name
     I still love my job

3. Oh blessed nap time
    Some days much too slowly comes
    I long for quiet

May 31

I have always liked haiku's.  I'm not sure why.  I don't always understand them, but there's something about the limitation of 5,7,5 that appeals to me.  While riding the bus I saw an ad for Domu, a local apartment hunting business.  The ad was written in haiku format with one problem.  The writer wrote it in 5,7,6.  It really bothered me.  If you're going to pretend to be clever and write your ad in haiku format at least know what you're doing.  I sat there trying to rephrase the final line until it fit the proper format.  That lead to me sitting down and writing my own.  I'm not exactly sure what makes a good haiku.  Mine are probably simple and silly, but I love the challenge of finding the right number of syllables to convey the meaning in the restrictive pattern. Sitting there and figuring out how to word the sentiment with more syllables because you've only got four or less because you've gone to eight.  This is what I came up with.

1.  The NAEYC clock ticks ("nay-see" don't know what it is google it)
     Teachers worry, much to do
     Vacation come soon

2. The burning candle
    Consuming wick at both ends
    Too quickly burns out

3. Deep sweet peaceful sleep
   Too long have we been parted
    I long for my bed

January 30

Today's creative time came when, technically speaking it should not have.  Inspiration took me in the middle of a mandatory training.  I was amazingly bored and being force-fed information that I'd been force-fed at least two times before.  At first I was doodling, then I started writing a letter, then it just started.  It sounds pretty outraged and probably more than a little contrived, but here is what came out when I just started writing what was in front of me.

I was very hesitant in putting this up.  Writing is very difficult for me.  Writing and sharing is terrifying.  Even though what I wrote just sort of flowed out, I was seriously considering not posting it.  I came very close to painting or drawing or something just to have something else to post.  Facing fears...yay?

It reads:

There's a lady at the front of the room.  Clearly passionate about she's talking about.  But I don't care.  She might as well be the teacher from Charlie Brown.  Wah-wah wah-wah wah.  I've heard all this shit before.  It might have been helpful 3,5,10 years ago.  Now, you're just wasting my time.  Trying to tell me how to do my job when I already do so much more than what you're advocating for.  You think small.  This program is small.  The books you're thumping in my direction aggravate and annoy me.  You would really take my contribution to the world and marginalize it until I'm irrelevant?  You hand me books and papers and proudly declare, "It's all done for you," "What could be easier?" "What an amazing resource."  "So much simpler."  Here's my response.  I don't want it all done for me.  I worked to get here.  I don't want some over-paid soulless money-grubbing corporation doing "everything" for me or the group of children they've never met, who are dealing with issues they can't fathom, and are capable of more than their narrow minds can conceive.  "What could be easier?"  When did teaching or childhood become easy?  Both are fraught with challenges; small bumps in the road and catastrophic explosions that make you wonder how you'll survive that ends in amazing potential for growth, insight, and progress.Teaching and childhood are messy and marvelous.  They are ups and downs, amazing discoveries and hard learned lessons.  They're not supposed to be easy or simple.  Anyone who tells you they are is not just selling something, they're selling you a steaming pile of manure.