Slice of Life: Thoughts of Zingers and Kindness

   It's Tuesday, and Tuesdays are for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

For four seasons, I was a college soccer mom. I think I made pumpkin cake for every game but one, and my fall weekends were structured around the geography and timing of the games. 

Although Julia, our graduated soccer player, could not make the home opener, Garth and I headed there to cheer. For the most part, people were happy to see us, even though I did not show up with pumpkin cake. (I did offer the recipe to anyone who wanted it, but didn't get any takers.) Despite all of the welcoming howdys and how-are-yous, the what-are-you-doing-heres were the stickier comments. 

Haven't you spent enough years here? one parent asked. 

I stared at him until he seemed a couple inches shorter before responding that it was good to see him, as well. (He apologized.)

But the zinger was from one of Julia's good friend's mom. When someone behind me wanted to know who another team was playing, I knew the answer, and I stated it. 

You need to get a life beyond NESCAC soccer, she said. 

That comment has stayed with me, even though I KNOW I have a lot of life beyond NESCAC soccer. I still check scores and know who the weekly players of the week are, but I've done it almost surreptitiously and self-consciously,  feeling that maybe I'm not developing my own life enough. (Even though I know I am.)

This past weekend, we headed to the game, this time with Julia who is home for a week. Again, people were welcoming and, although it's weird to be involved but not involved, we were excited to be there. 

This time, the same aforementioned mom pulled me aside to say how much they miss Julia. And she asked about my books. And my blog. And my podcast....

And yet-- that zinger from several weeks ago stays sharp in my mind, and I wonder about the students I touch both literally and figuratively. Why am I so much more attuned to the hurtful comments that come my way that I am to the encouraging ones and kindness? I don't think I'm alone in this tendency. 

Happy Slicing,

Slice of Life: One of Those Days

 

   It's Tuesday, and Tuesdays are for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

It had been one of those mornings. A meeting ran over, and I was late to the next one. The end result of both meetings (that I'd done a lot of work for) was... more work. Emails had come in with requests and scheduling issues I was trying to figure out, and sleep had been at a premium the night before--- somehow, my mind wasn't having it when it came to shutting down. 

One of those days.

Taking on the role of self-consoler and personal cheerleader, I decided to give myself ten minutes and six dollars and head to the local coffee shop for an unusual early afternoon cup of coffee. A vanilla latte from a master barista would turn the day around or at least spike the energy level to plow through the reports and agendas that were on my desk. 

The barista was lovely. She smiled as she handed the coffee over to me, and I savored the smell. Along the mile-long drive back to school, I resisted that first sip, not wanting to burn my tongue, proud of myself for thinking of this. However, the tree work right in front of the school held me up, and my resistance wavered.

I took that sip. 

And that barista, that cute, smiling, proud-of-her-product barista must not have put the top on quite right. That coffee did not dribble. It waterfalled all over my white shirt. 

Yep. Fortunately for me, I live close to the school, and I had a clean white shirt in my closet ready to wear. Fortunately for me, I'd waited to sip until the coffee cooled off a bit. And fortunately for my family, I even had the presence of mind to take a picture, so we all had a laugh. 

One of those days. 

Happy slicing,