eglantine_br (eglantine_br) wrote,

Digestion, geology, sex, and academics

The spring smemester is well underway. Mike has enrolled this time as a full time student. This is the last of the first half of his BS. In June he will be able to enroll at a 'real' university instead of the City college system. City college has been quite good to us. I think he will miss it.

So he is taking three classes: a weird math-writing class, and geology, and physics 2. The first geology clas was yesterday. He had a field trip to look at rocks. Professor is very excited about rocks, and was pointing out delighful examples of slate and explaining the exact definition of cobblestones, (there is apparently a very precice meaning to the word,.) This would have been fine but we were also having a driving blizzard at the time, with dime sized snowflakes arriving horizontaly along with the kind of sleet that hurts the skin. Mike has decided that the professor is frighteningly excitable. Everything that gets learned seems to be tracked home.I look forward to long evenings talking about schist.

Daughter has joined an after school mural painting group. It is a good fit for her. We told her when she moved here that she could paint the walls of her room. (We will just slap some white primer over everything when we move out. We usually do that anyway-- easier than trying to clean the walls.) Her room is now covered with vines and flowers and birds and the handprints of her friends.

She has completed her internship, and more importantly passed it. It is a requirement at her school, along with a full course load in Junior year. Hers was not a good fit.

She passed her science class too, despite despising it. It was a survey biology class entirely directed at the digestive process.Since it had such a narrow focus they went into stupifying detail. I believe that the way bodies work should be taught to kids all the way along. Not just 'health' or sex-ed, (those too, of course,) but anatomy, and first aid, and nutrition and all. It blows me away what adults don't know about how they work. But even I am not sure that a whole semester on digesttion is the way to go. Especially when it is shouted into a void of ignorance about the rest of bodily workings. (Sex ed is an exception. Brooklyn is pretty good with that. Also her school hands out birth control with no questions asked. Daughter has a friend who has adopted a belt and suspenders approach and is using condoms, pill, and nuva-ring. She is a careful girl but ended up getting a terrible UTI because  she cannot talk to her mom, and they were super vigorous, and had nobody to tell her to have boyfriend wash first, and to also pee after. Girl ended up in the hospital.  I was able to relay this advice through daughter.)

All the rest of classes were no problem. Daughter staked out a position years ago that she did not read for fun. I was pretty heartbroken, but figured she would come around if I didn't poke. It was just her way of being different from the rest of us. She loved being read to, when little, and she did read Narnia and Harry Potter, and a few other books a year, but not anything like what I had thought it should be. This year was the year that she rediscovered reading for fun. I am still trying to stay out, not poke, not suggest, but just let it unfold for her.

My writing dropped off quite a lot during the time when all of us were home. I have gotten less able to close the world out. Finding your own world and work inside the mind is a skill. I need to keep it. I am unlikely to have my own silent tower anytime soon. Many, if not most art is made in and around the tumult of kids and families. Everyone from Mozart to Stephen King has had to work while people yelled about school lunches, and where-are-my-keys, and the landlordf knocking, and dog barking and the cat yakking up. (Not to compare myself to them in any other way of course, but it is some comfort.)

But Horatio and Archie and Kit, and all, are still there. Still speaking to me. And I have six months of quiet to write in. Plenty. Son is usually home but he is quiet as a cat. So we can hope.

Hope you are all well, out there beyond the snowy window light. I am grateful for each of you, I should say so more often.
Tags: family, real life, writing about writing instead of writing
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