The snow has been coming down for hours. Despite the fact that I dutifully went out to shovel the driveway and the walk no less than 4 separate times yesterday I can no longer see my husband’s car in the drift: a lone upright windshield wiper barely clears the mound marking where the Camery succumbed to the white powder. The rumble of a cacophony of snowblowers lets me know that my neighbors have begun to dig themselves out. However, the fact that they have been running for no less than 3 hours also tells me the process is long, slow, and feels insurmountable. My dog agrees: the 25 pound mutt who blends in with the snow if she is not wearing her bright red fleece takes one look at the piled snow and refuses to step paw outside. Despite the fact that I demand, then cajole, then beg for her to take the leap of faith required for her to forage through the snow that rises above the tips of her ears she will not go out until I have shoveled her a pathway. I can’t say that I blame her.
My house is warm, my husband made it home at 11 pm last night after patrolling the roads, and I have power. I do not want to go outside to shovel for a fifth and sixth time. There is simply too much. Too much snow. I know it is going to be slow, cold, and unrewarding as the continued wind blows the powder across the patches I’ve already managed to clear. And I think about how some of my clients feel when they come to talk to me about their crushing burdens at school. The juniors who are finally realizing that their grades are important to their college plans. The 2nd semester freshman who thought everything would sort itself out but is now realizing that high school is harder than middle school. How do they recover? Is it too late? Is there just too much to be done?
So, we make mini goals. Start by doing your homework. Then we’ll see your teachers during Eagle block. Then we’ll see if you need a peer tutor. We will hope to raise your grade by a half step, or full step, each quarter.
Today, I’ll start by taking care of my dog and giving her a pathway so that she can take care of her business. Then I’ll work on the steps out front. Then I will help my husband with the driveway. Hopefully, tonight will find me in a shoveled out home, under warm in a pile of blankets and with a hot drink in hand.