AND, it's raining again

Every weekend it rains. All week long, we have warm sunny weather where I am stuck inside at my teaching table, inside an old shower converted to a classroom, with no windows and ventilation, hot, fans blowing on top speed despite the fact that noises like that make my head cloud up and my eyes strain. And every weekend, when there is time (is there time?) to relax, to head outside, it rains. Not the sexy, misty kind, but the cold sideways kind that makes your clothes cling as you shiver in the wind.

Now, I am a poet, so I am often making castles out of sand, seeking to find the beauty in things. Even now, I am watching the violas and freshly bloomed pink roses dance in the spray as a robin braces the wind in the cover of the bushes. I know enough to say thank you to the sky for providing the rain that we need to nourish all the growing things, to make the hot weekdays less dangerous for fires and drought.

And still….every….darn. Weekend.

Last weekend, we drove three hours to the shores of Maine. Rain.

I will say, however, in the wise words of my son: “A rainy weekend by the beach is still a weekend by the beach.” True story.

I was able to sneak out of bed early last Sunday morning, and take the dog for a walk on the beach in between showers. On Monday morning, the whole family walked through the rain and fog for an hour just to spend more time by the ocean before heading home. My kids ran ahead, coats flying behind them like capes in the wind, stopping here and there to check out whatever interesting treasures the sea had spit upon the shore.

And still. I would like it to stop raining every. Darn. weekend.

I am learning still, as so many of us are, to live here in the AND

It is okay to acknowledge beauty, to cherish the moments that fill our hearts, and still struggle inside rooms with fluorescent lights, masks high, joints aching, while giving my students the best that I can.

It is okay to celebrate the wins of my children this year, the way that the 8-year-old has made friends (actual friends!) (shoutout to the autism mamas who know what a win that is), and the 6-year-old has gained confidence in her speech and ability to speak up for herself.

These are wins! AND…the days have been long.

It’s Saturday again and the rains are coming down. The temperature has dropped twenty degrees since yesterday. I am watching the chickadee take shelter in the bushes, hearing their dee dee dee call out to the others to check in. The daisies have shut their petals.

It is okay to express gratitude alongside disappointment. The toxic positivity culture isn’t one for me.

But the one that lives in the place where the two can sit side by side, that is a room I want to be in.

I have a quote from Kate Bowler on a pennant by my writing desk that says “Have a beautiful, terrible day!” If that isn’t the definition of the and…

So right now, transitions are still challenging, feelings are big. It’s May.

I am a teacher. I am a mother.

I am grateful for the colors of the blossoms and I am tired of the weekend rain.

All of it. All at once.