Slice #28 of 31- Celebrating and Missing a Friend

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

March 27. That was yesterday. 

Sometimes slices are written the day before. 

Yesterday was my friend's birthday. 

While she was always there for me when she was here, 

my friend has been right by my side since September,

 helping me write a book.

Reminding me of her laugh.

Of her generosity.

Of her love for a good time.

Of her capacity to make everyone feel like her best friend.

How did she do that?

She's brought me together with people I didn't know before and now I love.

She's reconnected me with people who I have missed, and now cherish. 

She's reminded me that the impact we make while we are here, because my book 

celebrates

her laugh

her listening

her generosity

her love for bringing people together

her acceptance of everyone.

I miss her.

I miss my friend 

Who would--no should-- be fifty-two

And a day.

Slice #24 of 31- Do They Know?

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

Over the weekend, my husband and my second daughter, Julia, trekked down to Virginia for a soccer tournament. As is his tendency, Garth provided me with a lot of information via a stream of texts about Julia and the games. While I normally could live with fewer updates, I was happy to read all of his messages this weekend, since this tournaments is a major college recruiting event. We are completely out of our element with all of this, trying to figure it out--collaborate to create the right texts, help her concoct the right emails, get her ready to play her best soccer...

The scene? Hundreds of ultimately athletic girls kicking, running, trapping, looking full of swag and confidence on acres of turf fields as coaches walk around. Are all those girls really that confident, or are they wondering and worrying too?

"Can you tell who the coaches are?" I texted.

"The ones with clipboards and hats," Garth texted. "And their hats make it clear."

Do those coaches know that one-fourth of my soul is running around on that field? 

Do they know?

Happy Slicing,

Slice #22 of 31- Struggles With a Snowblower

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

Is it bad to admit that I have had a personal goal to NOT learn how to use the snowblower? I mow the lawn, my husband makes lunches, but I'm been pretty happy with the snowday routine of Garth plowing the driveway and me making him coffee. Sometimes, even an omelette. 

Last night, it snowed. And Garth is in Virginia at a soccer tournament with D2. (Daughter #2). He said that snowblowing isn't too tough. I could do it. (He needs to spend a little time reading Peter Johnston or Carol Dweck so that he understands growth mindset. You don't tell someone who is facing a new and daunting task that it will be easy.)

So, this morning, with Garth on the phone, I headed on to try to start the snowblower. 

"Just prime it a few times, shift it to the choke setting, and pull the rope," he said. "It'll start right up.

Is this the right time to admit that I didn't know where the rope was, mistook the primer cord for the starting code, pulled it, and broke it? Maybe I'll have him find that out when he reads the post...

So, I held the broken primer cord together and was able to get the thing started. Proudly, I headed up the driveway. It sort of reminded me of a blank sheet of paper. All mine to make my mark on...

Then, I got into some trouble. See, Garth sent me this text AFTER I came in from the driveway:

Key question in this exchange: did you start in the middle? Nope, I didn't. I think that I might know what having a learning disability could feel like because I am that bad at mechanical things and  So, when I got to about this point, I started to have trouble:

Anywhere I went, I was blowing snow back on to the parts of the driveway I'd already completed. Again, the writing parallel: plan first so you have a sense of what's going to come next. Otherwise, you're going to have a bit of a mess that you can't easily fix.

I went over some of the parts I had already done since I covered them with more snow, reminding myself of the revising process. As the machine roared in front of me, I debated. "How perfect does this driveway really need to be?" See the center strip of snow in the picture below? Is that one worth going after? It would mean more work on the parts around it. Isn't this SO like writing???

The picture that I took of my cup of coffee didn't come out well because it is a black mug, but I found the words on-line:

"Not snowblowing," I thought to myself!

As it turned out, the sun has helped my less than perfect job on the driveway.

 Now, what to do about that broken part? All secrets stay on the blog...

Happy Slicing!

Slice #21 of 31- Celebrating a Friday Night of Slippers and Solitude

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

I'm sure that there was a time when I would have complained about being home alone on a Friday night. 

I probably would have preferred heels or stylish boots over these:

I'm sure that I would have rather had a bartender serve me up a cocktail instead of helping myself:

And I might have wanted human company instead of my best dog ever, Sonny.

I'm not sure that there was ever a dessert that came close to Hazed and Confused, though.

Is it terrible that I am celebrating my husband and daughter being away at a soccer tournament, another daughter out at a party, another one away with a friend, and Larkin (the oldest who slices with us) away at college?

I'm answering that question for myself. 

Nope.

Happy Slicing,

Slice #19 of 31- Seventeen Years Ago We Welcomed Julia

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

Seventeen years ago, at exactly this time, we welcomed Julia Lynn into the world. Last year during the Challenge, I wrote a tribute to Julia. This year, I am compiling some of my favorite Julie stories:

• As a 3 year-old, the pronoun "I" did not exist. My older daughter worked hard to correct this habit, but "me" lasted a long, long time. 
• As a teenager, Julia has crazy hiccups. She says they are beyond her control, but she tends to have her loudest hiccups when her opponents are shooting free throws. 
• In second grade, we went to the American Girl store. Just as we went to enter the dining room, Julia, who had reassured me that she felt fine, turned to face me and threw up all over me. We didn't have lunch. We went to the Gap and bought new outfits. 
• Last week, she was asked to the prom by a very cute boy who had his very cute friends spell out PROM? on their chests and stand in front of her wearing Speedos. The pictures are priceless. 
• In eighth grade, she achieved the "Summit Report Card" of all A+'s and 1's for effort and conduct.
• She played a beautiful Gretl in the Sound of Music when she was seven. Really. We all cried in the last scene when she sat on the Captain's shoulders.
• Her soccer team tied an important game this past year. I wasn't there, but my husband agreed with Julia's analysis that the one goal the opponent scored was because of Julia's defensive mistake. She shut herself in her room when she got home and came downstairs the next morning. 
• Until sixth grade, she refused to wear any pants with buttons or snaps. 
• When Julia was fifteen, we experienced lice in our house. She has a LOT of hair on her head. Some of our most bonding moments that November was sitting and watching Gray's Anatomy on her computer while I combed her hair with a SUPER fine tooth comb. We had to do this four times on separate occasions before we were convinced that her hair was bug-free. Note to self: people are really nice when you are combing their VERY long hair with a fine tooth comb. 
• Every Christmas, I ask Julia what gift to buy for anyone in our house. She always knows.

Seventeen years, and I have many more stories. 

I love that girl.

Happy Slicing,

Slice #17 of 31- My Mother's Boombox...It's Tough to Change!

Slice #17 of 31- My Mother's Boombox...It's Tough to Change!

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

We have all tried to explain different ways of playing music in the kitchen to my mother. We have gotten her the Pandora app. We have put music on her phone. We have hooked her up to a Bluetooth speaker system. However, in a moment of panic and frustration, when her music wouldn't play, she went and bought herself a boombox yesterday. 

"What is that?" my twelve year-old asked.
"Does it have a tape cassette deck, as well?" I asked.
My daughters missed the reference since they don't remember tapes, but my mother understood my teasing.
"I just want my CDs. They're comfortable, and I know how to use them," she said. "They work."

I understand her discomfort and I appreciate her resolution. I know many teachers who experience the frustration and incompetent feelings in their classrooms. We have so many new initiatives in our schools. New curriculum. New technology. New assessments.

As I think about my mother and the connection between her boombox and education, here are some parallels:

• she is intelligent (one of the smartest people I know, actually).
• she is motivated (she really wanted to listen to music).
• she has time (I'm never sure of how exactly she spends her days).
• she understands the purpose of the new technology.

But despite all that, she chose to give up, and go back to her old way. Hmmm.

My mother's boombox, as it sits on that counter, is a great reminder to me of how hard change can be. 

So now, the motivation falls back on the teachers--my daughters, my husband, and I would definitely prefer playlists over opera and musical CDs, not to mention the fact that I don't like extra stuff on the counters. What new approach will we try to re-engage our learner? Stay tuned... (ha, ha!)

Happy Slicing,

Slice #14 of 31- We Have to Get There Early... Really?

This month, I have committed to writing every day through the community at Two Writing Teachers. All are welcome to the March Slice of Life Challenge! It's not too late to join in with comments-- or just read... 

Whenever my husband fly together, we debate the time to arrive at the airport. He likes to get there early. If he is through security and sitting outside the gate with 90 minutes to spare, he's a happy guy. Me? I'd rather have the adrenalin rush that comes with rushing to the back of the line. (Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I tend to cut my airport arrival time pretty close.) When I travel with Garth, I now know to bring a good book and buy myself an airport coffee.

Last night, we had our daughter's basketball semi-final game in a neighboring town.

"We have to leave early," Garth said.

"Just give me a time," I answered.

We left way earlier than I would have if left to my own decision making. He convinced me that the ticket line would be long.

"But we pre-purchased tickets," I said.

"We're bringing a kid who still needs a ticket."

"Plus, we want good seats," My youngest daughter piped in.

I tried not to roll my eyes, and I got into the driver's seat, ready to go. Garth is a better navigator, so I usually do the driving. As a light turned green, the car in front of us didn't go right away.

"Give him a toot," Garth said, before counting to three.

"No," I answered.

He laughed at himself and rubbed his hands together. "I'm a little antsy."

We got to the game in plenty of time. Parking was easy, the ticket line was short, and we had plenty of choices for seats. (I didn't say I told you so...) Pre-basketball games aren't like airports; there's no good coffee and it's a lousy reading environment. However, there are a lot of people to catch up with, and I ended up with a lot of time to see and talk to friends. All good, since some of them I won't see much until next year's basketball season--after last night's game, basketball season is over for the Farmington girls.

Happy Slicing,