Chronically Sleep Deprived

 It's the first official day of my self-imposed "sleep hygiene challenge. First step: 21 days of not using my bed for anything but sleep or sex. No reading in bed, no browsing social media, no watching Netflix. For someone who has developed a bad pandemic habit of lounging in bed and doing all of the above, plus having long debates with my husband while lying in bed, this will be HARD.  But it's got to stop. All the sleep experts say that associating your bed with all these other activities makes falling asleep harder. So today, I slept in a little (because it's Saturday, and also, I'm being gentle with myself) but since I got up, I haven't even sat on my bed. I got up and had breakfast, and went to my church to clean it (we all take turns helping to clean, and it was my family's turn to pitch in). Now we're home, and there's the usual Saturday "stuff" awaiting me: chores, shopping, planning, family time.  But, I'm not laying on that b

 I've decided to resurrect this blog. It's been a lot of things over the years - a simple journal, a hodgepodge of memories, a collection of my work stories. Lately, though, I need a place to write about my sleep habits, and where better than a blog with this name? Four years ago this month, I had my first tonic-clonic seizure. It led to me being diagnosed with epilepsy, and trying out a series of anti-epileptic drugs (AEDs), in varying dosages and with varying side effects. Sleep hasn't been the same since. Add in four kids, the occasional job (usually part-time, but not always), a global pandemic, and well, sleep quality is not something I can brag about. I've  tried a new mattress. A couple of different pillows. A body pillow. A silk pillowcase. Melatonin. I'm not supposed to take sleeping pills like Unisom, because of my epilepsy, but sometimes I get desperate and take one anyway. They leave me groggy well into mid-morning the next day. Sleep deprivation is a co

Kyle Smith, a journalist for the National Review, recently wrote a scathing indictment of Dr. Jill Biden. I could defend Dr. Biden, but I don’t think she needs my help. I’m sure she can take care of herself. I can’t comment on her dissertation, because I haven’t read it. But when Mr. Smith - a privileged Yale graduate from a Massachusetts suburb - attacked Dr. Biden, he, a former lieutenant in the U.S. Army who writes for a conservative magazine, did a decidedly un-American thing: he went after the American dream. Before I get into why, let’s talk about sources, since Mr. Smith is, after all, a journalist. He picked a student review - one that can easily be found on ratemyprofessor.com (such a reliable source!) - as his example of Dr. Biden’s teaching abilities. It says, “She very bad teacher and it is hard to pass class. I RECOMMEND NOT TAKE THIS PROFESSOR.” I don’t teach community college; I DO teach adult ESL, and I would bet my life savings (admittedly, not much, I’m a teacher) tha

It was probably the fifth article on distance learning I'd read this week, but the information was not new. The pandemic, and the fear of spreading a potentially life-threatening virus, had closed schools all over the country. Teachers scrambled to post their classes online. Videos, quizzes, instructions for doing projects and experiments at home. Reading and math assignments. Educators everywhere spent hours figuring out how to make what was once delivered face-to-face work in an online format, some of them even decorating a corner of their house like a mini-classroom. For some teachers, the effort was in vain. By and large, America's students have not followed their teachers into the virtual classroom. For some, it is lack of access; schools have frantically distributed Chromebooks, iPads, and Internet hotspots, but that's not always enough. Even with some companies generously offering free Internet for a couple of months, there are language barriers and time constraint

As many of you know, I teach English as a Second Language. I teach Level 1, for beginners who have had at least some education in their home country, and Literacy 1, for students who have had no prior education, in any language. Literacy 1 students, or preliterate students, often speak native languages that have no written form. Dinka, spoken in South Sudan, falls into this category (or so I have been told). Others simply had no opportunity, whether because of poverty, or war, or because they were female in a society that didn't educate females. Whatever the reason, they present a whole slew of unique challenges. Some can't distinguish between a drawing and written language; the methods that work with children learning to read in their native language don't always work for these students. In my Literacy 1 class, I have several students from Burma. One in particular stands out to me. Every time I hand something to him, or he hands something to me, he cups his right elbow

The local classifieds have an entire section devoted to Home & Garden. I love browsing this section; the Farmer's Market, in particular, I love. Yesterday, out of curiosity, I decided to browse the ads under the "Fertilizer" heading. There were a few people selling their spreaders, a few bags of commercial fertilizer, and a number of farmers offering composted steer and/horse manure. Most the the farmers were either giving it away, or selling it very cheap - like $10 for an entire pickup load, which they would load for you. Completely reasonable, I thought. Then there was the rabbit manure. This lady was offering to sell her rabbits' manure. For $3 a GALLON. I'm tempted to call her. I imagine the conversation would go like this: Me: Hi, I'm calling about your rabbit manure. I have a few questions. Lady: Okay. Me: What do you feed your rabbits? Lady: Oh, it's completely natural food. Nothing artificial at all! Me: Oh, great. So, how o