Pen-demic

  With two and one half days left in the school year, inquiring minds have asked how doing school virtually for a year   really   was. From a parent's perspective, this is what I can tell you: Four hundred forty. The number of days my family has been together, the four of us, working & learning under the same roof.  One thousand three hundred twenty. The number of meals that have been prepared and served. Hot breakfasts. Hot lunches. Planned dinners for the week.  Five hundred forty two. The number of times Zoom was used for virtual school in our home. The soundtrack of our home came from the doorbell ding-dong each time a student was let into a class meeting. "You're muted," was the chorus. I know my girls' teachers & classmates by voice, but probably wouldn't know if I passed them in Target or the grocery store. Zero. The number school days missed. I never thought my kids would have a year of perfect attendance!  Undetermined. The number of times ...

  -Nikki Douglas I’ve been avoiding writing. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been posting little blurbs on Instagram and Facebook. When there is an accompanying picture to write about, writing seems less intimidating. I write about my girls. I write about running. I write about sunrises and sunsets and being outside. I write about seeking gratitude amidst uncertainty. All of the words tapped out on my phone. My constant companion. A phone makes it so easy to type out some words and hit “share.” I appreciate and curse the convenience. While I enjoy reading about friends’ adventures or how their children are doing, the muck that plagues most of social media right now is daunting. I try to balance the negativity by sharing things I think are uplifting or, at least, non-triggering, but my usual optimism is unreliable. Whether I am sucked into the rabbit hole of social media or simply driving through my neighborhood, division and blame seems to be everywhere I look. It’s not just political, ei...

My skin is warm from the sun's glare through my car window. The temperature is rising, dare I say, it's hot? The air will feel good rushing through my hair, making it dance as I drive down the highway. Hesitation. What else will an open window invite besides the wind? I try to relax. Reason that all will be well and yet, the question lingers. To find relief being part of the sun and wind or close up where isolation may keep me safe, but without a filled spirit. -Nikki Douglas Photo by  Makenna Entrikin  on  Unsplash