Slice of Life- 19 of 31: Happy Birthday, Julia!

 

  It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

I'm still having a hard time knowing if this is my ninth or tenth year slicing, and it doesn't dramatically matter to me since I'm not eligible for the Decade Prize. However, what does matter, is that EVERY year on March 19, I celebrate my daughter, Julia, who is now celebrating her second birthday in quarantine. 

Last year at this time, she had just returned home from a fabulous internship that sealed her suspicion that business would not be her life's work. This year, she is working as an EMT, she's fully vaccinated, she's about to start work in a medical office, and she's doing what she needs to for applying to medical school. 

And, she's also figured out how to keep her options open to finish out her collegiate soccer career in the fall. 

(Please know that when all of these girls smile, they are spectacular, 

but they were challenged to look tough for this photo!)

This girl. 

When I have unpleasant errands, she comes.

When I'm unkind, she interrupts.

When I'm sad, she knows. 

When I'm happy, she celebrates. 

Happy Birthday, Julia. 

I love you.

Here's to slicing,

Slice of Life- 18 of 31: No slipping for slicing

 

  It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

Peg walked into my office to say good morning. Her classroom is right next to me, and during March, when both of us are slicing, it's fun to talk, laugh about, and reflect on the backstories from the posts. 

My usual routine for slicing is to write my post sometime in the evening, after work, coffee or tea in hand depending on the time, feet in slippers, daily checklist mostly crossed off. Last night, for many reasons, I couldn't summon my writing energy. I tried, but couldn't channel a slice that felt remotely writing-worthy. 

"I've got nothing," I said to Peg in response to her good morning. Truth: I don't think I even said good morning back. I think those were the first three words out of my mouth. 

"How about I slip on your floor and fall on my &*^ and that can be your slice?" she offered. 

We both laughed. 

And then we talked about how some days there are tons of stories calling out, and others not so much. We talked about how we don't want to write the same thing day after day, but sometimes life does feel the same day after day. Yep, today I met with teachers on GM, I worked with some groups of kids, I responded to LOTS of questions, I planned for an SBAC presentation with a throat full of bile... We don't want to be overly serious or too philosophical or self-promotional or whatever else--fill in the blank. But she knew exactly what I meant when I said I just didn't have a moment from the day. (Moment is my 2021 word--I'm sure I've mentioned that this month.)

The students were heading in, and Peg had to go greet them. I thanked her. I didn't need her to slip and fall in my office. I had my slice. 

Happy slicing,

Slice of Life- 17 of 31: I thought I was clever, but wasn't at all!

  It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

I was so impressed with A's response to my survey questions! I had asked this group of writers to share what helps them as writers, as well as what doesn't. By providing them with a google form to fill out before class, I learned about whether they appreciated seeing final products, mentor texts, short lessons, and other things. A. had written that she sometimes subconsciously emulates what others have done if she reads a piece that's like hers ahead of time. (Or that's what I thought she meant.) I had 13 surveys to skim as I worked my way through breakout rooms, so I was just getting some big ideas, but they were some really helpful big ideas. 

When I stopped into A.'s breakout room, I was so proud of myself that I had an article right there and ready to go on my Padlet that was right there in line with A's topic. 

"If you look at the first column," I said, "there's a piece that you can read that is so much like yours. It might really help."

I watched her and couldn't figure out why she wasn't immediately engaged. She usually seemed to relate to and react to any tidbit of instruction or tip I offered. Tonight, she seemed to be almost intentionally NOT looking at what I was showing her. 

I don't like to overstay my welcome when I'm working with enthusiastic writers. I give quick brushstrokes-- nudges and little ideas to move them forward, and then I'm out of there so they can practice and keep working on their writing. A. was sharing a breakout room with another writer, and they both were giving me the indication that they were ready for me to move on and let. them. write.  So I did!

Later, when I had time and class was over, I went through the responses to the survey more carefully, thinking about grouping writers with an eye on their processes and preferences for learning. Looking down the column of "What does not help you as a writer?", I stopped in my tracks. 

OH NO. 

A. had NOT written that seeing a piece like hers helped her. She had written that it DID NOT help her. That it got in her way and made her feel like she was copying. OH NO!

I sent a quick email to both her and her teacher apologizing. Isn't data wonderful? Yes! As long as it's read and interpreted correctly!! In my defense, the spreadsheets that get populated when you use checklists on google forms get a little crowded and need careful reading as you scroll down the columns. That being said, I'm still shaking my head and chuckling a little at how clever I thought I was but wasn't at all! 

Happy Slicing!

Slice of Life- 15 of 31: Of painting, yoga towels, and apologies

     It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

My husband has been painting the basement, and I say this with the utmost appreciation. That being said, when I went downstairs to see how it was going and do a workout, I looked down on the floor to see that he was using my yoga towel as a drop cloth. Really?

"That's my yoga mat," I said. 

"No, it's mine," he said. 

"Garth: it's my Downdog Studio yoga mat that Amy gave me when the first order of them came in," I said. "It's mine."

"Well, I'm using the back side of it," he said. "Not the front."

Really? I stared. Shook my head. Couldn't think of what else to say at that moment. 

I've been reading and savoring Risk. Fail. Rise. by Colleen Cruz.  While the title would have you believe that this book is for educators, there is so much in it that applies to all aspects of life. What do you do when you've made a mistake? There are several different types of mistakes. Ones that come from carelessness, ones that come from not caring. Ones that come from not knowing, and others that come from trying something new and taking a risk. Low stakes mistakes that Garth may argue the use of my yoga mat could be. And high stakes mistakes-- ones that may cost more money, well-being, pain, or harm. I have appreciated contemplating mistakes this way. 

Additionally, woven into the fabric of my mothering is the chapter in The Last Lecture where Randy Pausch writes about the importance of knowing how to apologize correctly and with integrity. One of my daughters used to say sorry through her teeth with her eyes squinted; her words were an act of compliance without a shred of interest in reparation. Apologies should include more that words. They should also include ownership and acknowledgement of one's role in what happened, as well as how things will be made better. 

"I guess it is yours," Garth said. "I'm sorry."

He can't replace it since Amy won't be ordering any more of them, and the truth is, I don't use it often. 

"That's a Paul thing to do," I said, knowing he'd know exactly what I mean. Just last night, his brother, Paul, one of our closest friends and someone who will do ANYTHING for you, borrowed Garth's slippers and walked through the mud. REALLY? Things just don't matter to him. 

Garth laughed. "You're right," he said, a rare combination of words in a potentially volatile situation. 

I shook my head again and got on the bike. 

At least he was painting the basement. 

Happy Slicing,

Slice of Life- 16 of 31: The notebook mystery

      It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

I walked into the house and saw a package on the kitchen island. Excitement flared. Maybe it was my book! Upon closer inspection, it couldn't be. The package was an Amazon envelope. 

"What did you order?" Julia asked. 

I had no idea. Sometimes I preorder books and forget about the publishing dates. Other times I order a book without a lot of debate. I've been known to forget those are on their way. I've been practicing self-restraint lately, trying to curb by bibliophile ways, so I had no idea. 

I get a pair of scissors and opened the envelope to find a canvas drawstring bag. 

"What is this?" I said. 

Julia moved in closer as I pulled open the drawstring to reveal a beautiful notebook. It is soft leather with a string tie and thick pages. Not something I'd buy, but something I'd love. 

I shook the envelope, but no card. Opened the notebook. No hint of its sender. Tried the codes on the envelope. Nothing worked. 

Asking people if they sent me a notebook as a gift is tricky business. I sent a couple of texts to possible suspects, but no solution to the notebook mystery. I'm hoping someone drops a clue so I can give a proper thank you. It's beautiful. 

Happy slicing,

Slice of Life- 14 of 31: Plans and decisions and lives change

    It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

Yesterday, as I drove up our street, Jamie and her dog were walking. I hadn't talked to her, and I stopped to say hi and hear how her boys were doing. 

For more than a hundred days of school, her boys and ridden their bikes or walked up to our house for school. Some of you who have been reading my blog know that Cecily, our youngest daughter, deferred her first year of college and spent time running a pod from our house before leaving for a camping/hiking/learning trip throughout the Colorado River Basin. There was stress about her leaving the group, for sure, but they were able to find another person to step in, a former teacher, and the transition went well. 

"She says H. should be in school," Jamie said. 

I agreed, but was always torn about how much to say that when the boys were coming to our house, not because it would have diminished the pod, but because I understood and appreciated the reasons they had for wanting to keep any exposure to a minimum. 

Because the reason is so tied up in someone else's personal story of grief and loss, I will suffice it to say that for the time being, the family can shoulder the risk of exposure. 

And, as I mark the one year anniversary of the closing of school and the shutting down of so many other businesses and institutions, I am also so aware of the losses people have suffered. The change in plans. The hardships. The loneliness. The grief. 

I wished Jamie luck in her efforts to convince the other key players to give in-person school a try. I wish I could get out of my car and wrap my arms around her as she struggles with the challenges of making the best decision for her little boy. There are so many, too many, challenges during this time. 

Slice of Life: A reckless hug

     It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

Lisa and I met when we both came on as co-authors with Two Writing Teachers several years ago. Through long phone conversations, we discovered fun coincidences and became friends both quickly and then over time. Even though she lives in Virginia, which can feel FAR away from Connecticut, Lisa's mother lives in Connecticut. When she comes to visit, we get to see each other. 

Yesterday, I pulled into her mother's driveway, knowing I'd just have time for a quick lunch (one of the things we know about each other is our food preferences because we like the same things) and a walk. (We also have the same sneakers, walk the same pace, and generally like to walk the same distance.)

Lisa came out to greet me, mask on, even though she's fully vaccinated. Still in the car, I strapped my mask around my ears. 

"Are we hugging?" I asked. 

Lisa's arms were wide, and I stepped right into them. 

Sad that hugging feels like unlawful and reckless behavior, but maybe that much more important. It was so good to see Lisa! 

And then, I went inside and got the same greeting from her mother, hugging her as well, which, if you read Lisa's post, you'll know is a big deal, pandemic or not. 

Happy Slicing!