The Desert is the Country of Madness

Sunday, June 18, 2017

I tried my hand at WordPress. I hated it. I'm looking forward to being back here blogging again and keeping up with all my favorite blogs.  I took a little detour to finish my degree and thankfully I'm only a Shakespeare paper away from being finished.

It's been hot here. Too hot for me and too hot for Paloma.  We spend the afternoons indoors and wait for dusk before going outside. I go to school with her in the mornings.  I sit in the small trailer, trying to read, trying to ignore the 12 plus special needs preschoolers running around screaming, trying to forget the heat as I hear the swamp cooler above me struggle too.  More often than not I'm mistaken for a teacher or helper by one of the kids or like last week I intervene when the teacher is busy. I try to read but I'm always forced to put down my book mid sentence because my crazy inability to not focus on my kid's every move, apparently also happens with other people's kids. Just last week I picked up a non verbal little girl as she fell off the playground equipment, unable to cry or tell me what hurt, I held her for a bit until the teacher noticed.  I caught a kid behind the teacher's desk with scissors and a glare in his eye, scanning the room for just the right object to cut. I ran after a little girl who ran right out of the class while no one else was watching.

This is not to criticize the teachers. They are saints. Paloma's teacher works at Walmart after teaching all day to make ends meet. Walmart!  I feel like I need a drink every time I leave the class. These are crazy times we are living in.

I knew all along that New Mexico had it's issues. It's a poor state which always comes in the bottom for education.  Our Republican governor recently made several cuts to already stressed, underfunded system.

My older two kids go to my dream, hippy school.  They spend a good part of the day outside playing. They garden and do yoga as part of their curriculum.  They practice peaceful conflict resolution and no joke when DT was elected president they had a counselor go around to each classroom to comfort students because they were so upset.  The kids go on nature hikes every week and there are frequently family potlucks. The teachers seem to float across the campus, glowing and happy like they're fulfilling their dreams. It's dreamy and ideal. For my older two that is. I know Paloma will never be able to go there.  There's no money for an aide for her. She doesn't do well in heat or being outside for long periods.  Our only option is a chaotic, hot trailer hidden in  the back of the school with teachers who are over worked and underpaid and me going with her. Or I home-school.

So what are we to do?  I don't know the answer yet. We've talked about moving yet again. Maybe to Washington or Oregon, places where cannabis patients can bring their oil to school so I wouldn't have to go with her. The thought of leaving this place I love so dearly hurts but maybe it's not for the best.

I made a friend today at the UU church. She is a special needs mama too and she's the first friend I've made since we've been here. Maybe it's a sign to stay?


  1. I love your new layout and that you'll be blogging regularly! The situation in the trailer with Paloma and you "reading" sounds untenable. Such bullshit that they can't give the oil, but I'm afraid that's going to be the case for a really long time. I wonder if you can arrange some sort of part time program for Paloma at school and then homeschool for the rest of it? I would hate for ya'll to have to move when you love it so much there otherwise. In any case, that poster is perfect.

    1. Thank you friend :) I was trying to change the law here to allow the oil on school grounds but I've gotten zero support from any legislators or groups. The current law can't be reviewed until the 2019 session. So that's not going to happen anytime soon. I'm thinking of trying out next year letting her go by herself and see how it goes. But since I use the oil for rescue I have to be able to run to the school at a moments notice, have the teacher carry her seizing body off school grounds and meet me in an apartment building behind the school so I can give her the oil. That sounds like a horrible plan so I'm not sure what's going to happen. I love it here but I also feel guilty for making my family live in a place that might not be best for all members. Tough decisions!