Slice of Life: A Smoothie Disaster

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

Last night's twitter chat was inspiring as the community of Two Writing Teachers discussed how we live and teach writerly lives. This morning, I wasn't sure what I was going to write, and then my daughters provided inspiration with the catastrophe of a spilled smoothie. I only wish I had the good sense to take pictures, but you will all have to use my words and your imagination in order to bring this story to life. Let's start by saying that I make smoothies for my high school daughters every morning, and I make them with plenty of blueberries so they are a lovely purple color. 

This morning, we had a welcome 90 minute delay, but it's amazing how extra time can make us all late. Are we the only ones who experience this paradox? 

With the extra time, I collected and started the girls' laundry, a job I usually leave for them. I guess the extra time made me feel generous, and I was stuck with my writing, trying to decide on my slice for the day. 

A little while later, Julia and Clare rushed around the kitchen gathering their lunches, snacks, bags, backpacks--for whatever reason, Julia seemed like she had even more to carry than usual.

"Don't forget your smoothie," I said, sensing that the red solo cup would be left on the counter since the hands were so full. 

I didn't look up again as the two of them headed for the garage, but I did look up when Julia burst through the door a minute later. I didn't see her, as I was in the library, but I did hear her:

"I hate your smoothie," she said. No, she yelled. Her feet pounded up the stairs.

Clare was right behind her through the kitchen door, but she was laughing. 

"Smoothie catastrophe, Mom," she said. "We need some towels."

Clare and I headed to the garage with a roll of paper towels, a garbage bag, and my container of cleaning wipes. I wasn't sure what we were going to find. Drops of purple smoothie led to the garage, becoming less and less like drops and more and more like blobs as I got closer to the car. Splashes of purple smoothie were all over the door and the floor. Fortunately, she hadn't spilled too much on the seat.

Clare and I were just finishing cleaning the mess when Julia reappeared in a new and clean outfit. 

"There's a little more laundry," Julia said. "Sorry."

No problem. I just wanted the time to write my slice! I'd found a good one!

Happy Slicing!

Running errands was more than I expected...

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

My youngest daughter and I took a trip to the grocery store and CVS this afternoon. She had a list of ingredients for a special dinner she wants to make, and I had a 25% off coupon at CVS. The weather is unseasonably warm, I was home reasonably early, and she had completed her homework--we were feeling happy with life.

We made it through the grocery store--the avocados were a little hard, so Cecily will cook for us tomorrow night--and we headed to CVS. When we arrived, I parked, we got out of the car, and walking in, I saw a shoe on the sidewalk. A man was standing in the middle of a parking space. When I looked down, there was a woman on all fours dripping blood from her nose. One of her stockinged feet was shoeless.

"Do you know her?" I asked the man.

He shook his head. "She just fell," he answered. "She caught a foot on the curb, and she fell right on her nose."

He and I stayed with her, me rubbing her back. Someone from the store called 911, another person called her husband, and Cecily got a chair from inside. Someone brought paper towels and rubber gloves, and we waited with her until help arrived. Joanne was coherent and embarrassed, having been on a special mission to get Valentine's Day cards for her grandchildren. That mission will probably include a trip to the ER to get some stitches.

My father fell down the basement stairs almost 14 years ago and sustained a head injury that changed all of our lives. We all walk so precariously close to unseen edges, and it takes so little time to slip or take a wrong step or misjudge a situation. I know that I am still haunted by my father's accident, but I am also more appreciative moments and grateful for all the joy I have in my life.

Happy Slicing,

Slice of Life- One Little Word for 2016

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

This will be the fourth year that I have chosen one little word to be my guide for the year. I have lived with present, kindness, and acknowledge. What is so is that each word has lingered in my life well beyond its designated year. Together, these words serve as anchors to me, especially when life feels stressful and overwhelming.

I have made several lists of possible words for 2016, and I have debated some wordly finalists. I loved Beth Moore's choice of play, and I admired her post and passion about play in education. I will, in fact, sign up for a crusade to have play an integral part of education. I also related to Dana Murphy's choice of joy. I do have great joy in my life, and sometimes, I forget to celebrate all of it. Other serious contenders for 2016 were balance, nurture, remember, and moment, and the winner is wonder.

I have been working hard to bring wonder and curiosity into classrooms, and I want to make sure that I bring wonder to the forefront of my own thinking. I want to linger in the what if's and the possibilities. I want to push a little past what is comfortable and what I know. I'm trusting that wonder will remind me to ask questions and linger with the challenge and enjoyment of growing within the answers.

Happy 2016 to all of you.

Yes, We Are All Human!

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

I don’t get many personal phone calls on my cell phone during the day. Most of my friends know I’m at working, my daughters are also in school, and my husband knows that chances are I’m in a meeting or in a classroom. So, when my oldest daughter Larkin’s name came up as the caller, I answered it right away. Larkin is a sophomore at University of Michigan, and I am getting really excited to see her on Wednesday night! Some of you know Larkin from the March Slice of Life Challenge.

“Mom,” she said. “I think you messed up.”

I rolled my eyes. Good she couldn’t see me. Full disclosure: I was in the middle of writing a report, and Larkin loves drama and is known for embellishment.

“My ticket on Wednesday is from Hartford to Detroit, not Detroit to Hartford.”

I stopped multi-tasking.

“Right,” I said. “Why are you saying that?”

“I just checked my account, Mom,” she said. “My trip is booked from Hartford to Detroit.”

My heart started to pound. I didn’t want her to sense my panic. I just scribbled down her account numbers and password, and I told her I’d get it taken care of.

It’s amazing how quickly priorities can change. That report I was working on was FAR from the forefront of my brain. As I sat on hold with Delta, my mind raced. How much would this cost me? How would I explain that charge to my husband? What if there were no flights left? How impossible would it be to drive to Ann Arbor and turn around and drive back to Hartford? Finally, my new best friend came on to the line. I don’t even know her name, but trust me, she is my new best friend.

“I’ve made a very big, very bad mistake,” I said.

“Because you’re human?” she responded.

I LOVED this lady and all she had said to me were about those three words.

I explained the mistake, and she had Larkin booked on flights within minutes.

“I’m going to waive the $200 penalty for changing flights,” she said. “It’s obvious that this was a mistake.”

Had I just heard her right? Is it possible to hug someone through a phone line? Could she hear the relief and gratitude in my voice?

She apologized as she explained that she would have to charge me the price difference between the fares. “Let me just see what the difference is,” she said.

I prepared myself for a whopper. When she finally told me the difference was $63, I felt like I’d won the lottery.

My mistake could have been such a bigger problem than it was. Thank you to Delta, thank you to the woman whose name I don’t know. We are entering the season where many of us tend to take on too much, tend to have too many lists, tend to say yes too many times. (I’m a little extra frightened that my ticket purchasing debacle was a few weeks ago, before the start of the truly crazy season…)  Maybe this blog post will inspire others to be forgiving of mistakes and helpful in finding solutions, remembering that yes, we are all human.

Happy Writing, and Happy Holiday Season,

Letting Go

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

Many of you have gotten to know my dad over the years, as he has inspired many, many stories and slices. Last week, I wrote about holding on. This week, I write about letting go. 

My dad left us on Wednesday. I am working on putting together a cohesive set of memories about him for the service we will have on Friday, and part of it will wrap around the wisdom we have all gained from his life and his way of living.

The end of my dad's life wasn’t the one he envisioned full of trips, retirement homes, and grandchildren's college graduations. Thirteen years ago, our dad had a terrible accident and my brother Charlie was there to help him live.  Last Wednesday, it was Charlie who held Dad and told him to let go, he would never be forgotten and our paths will all cross again.  In those thirteen years, we have had the gift of more time with our father. In those thirteen years, his past faded and his future blurred, but Dad always, always, was up for an adventure, was up for the moment. Dad’s moments became what he knew and he always loved them--the game to watch, the concert to attend, the fish to catch, the cards to collect.

"How was your day, Dad?" we would ask him.

"I had a great day," he always answered.

He meant it, too. His moments mattered, because that's what he had, but that’s what we all have, and that could be Dad’s most important lesson. The wisdom I need to always keep. Moments matter. The moments of right here, right now.

Rest in peace, Dad. 

Slice of Life: Holding On

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

On Sunday night, I met up with my writing group on our Google Hangout. (Do you capitalize those two words? I always debate that...) Toward the end of our meeting, I admitted that I have been the absentee slicer for the last few weeks. 

"We've noticed," one of them said.

"We miss you," another added.

"Honestly," I said, "what I'd write would probably be sadder than anyone would want to read."

"Try us," someone else says.

 "And, my blog is tricky. It's not about personal stuff. It's about educational stuff."

"Write on your personal blog," one of my writing partners said. 

I nod and sigh.

"By the end of the day, I'm beat," I want to say. "I'm just not up for getting back into work mode."

Because, from the time I walk into the door these days, I'm in full work mode. Not books. Not computers. Not reading. Not writing. 

I'm taking care of my dad.

But tonight, I'm on my personal blog, and I'm writing. And I don't think it's too depressing. (Maybe just a little...)

One of the most helpful posts that I read throughout my dad's sickness reminded me of the difference between the words have to and get to. I get to live with my dad as he is in the late stages of prostate cancer. I get to feed him. I get to help him walk. I get to brush his teeth, comb his hair, tuck him into bed... I get to love him through this inevitable part of his life. 

Caring for someone when they need help doing everything is hard and exhausting, but it is also intimate and full of moments to hold on to, cherishing and remembering. 

Tonight, I will hold on to the image of my brother inviting my dad to hug him, to put his arms around him and hold on. I will hold on to the image of the two of them wrapped in an embrace, my brother's strong arms around Dad's frail body. 

I will hold on.

Becaue, from the time I walk in the door

Slice #29 of 31- The Struggles of What to Wear...

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.

Having some interesting parenting moments tonight...you'd think that I'd be safe in Ann Arbor far away from daughters 2, 3, and 4. Nope. Not so much. Just as we got on to the elevator at the hotel, sharing the elevator with another family, my phone rang. It was Julia, my second daughter. 

"Mom," Julia said. "Did you bring your black boots?"

In the elevator, I looked down at my feet. "Yep, Jules," I said. "I'm wearing them."

Everyone in the elevator looked at me. And laughed. I'm sure that she meant to say hi and how are you...formalities can be so overrated.

Once we got into the hotel room, Julia facetimed Larkin. I sat on the other bed listening to the two of them debate what Julia will wear tonight when her friends take her out for a birthday dinner. 

"Hi Larkin," Julia said through the computer. "I'm mad at Clare, so I need you to help me figure out what to wear."

"Thanks," said Larkin. "Good to know where I stand."

Apparently, Clare, my third daughter, claimed and was wearing my other pair of boots that everyone likes to wear. Poor Julia. She did not make an early enough claim on boots to wear for her night on the town. 

Somehow I'm certain that Julia will look good when it's time to go out. Never a dull moment with four girls, even from far away.

Happy Slicing,