I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March.  You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you,  Two Writing Teachers! 

Ugh. I’m getting sick, so all the slices of my day are fuzzy, surrounded by a dizziness for days, and now a sore throat.

By the way, if you go to a Walk-In Doctor’s office, and tell them you are dizzy, you get some great customer service! A nurse came out right away. They took me off the “Walk-In” waiting list, and gave me an appointment.  The very nice Doctor told me I was “very good, very good, very healthy, very healthy.”

But earlier today, while I was still deciding if I should go to the Doctor, we had a lovely time during Literacy. We voted on our next read aloud (Tangle of Knots wins by a landslide!) I didn’t do my status of the class before we read today. So after “Read to Self,” I took a picture of the books being read, and wrote down everyone’s titles, just for you. There were some repeats – we are doing book clubs, but the books being read, (and a few soon to be read) by my 6th graders are….

I love overhearing the students as they talk about the books they are reading and are about to read. Some of them have so many books to read in their reading plans, they are having a hard time picking which to read when. One girl put down Divergent today and switched to The Shadow Throne, simply because The Shadow Throne was suddenly available. Don’t worry, she’ll pick up Divergent in a day or two. We have sticky notes in many of our books with lists of kids who want to read the book. The new rule is, if a book has a sticky note in it with names… you have to check with those names first before you read. Those names get first dibs.

As we were finishing our reading time today, the kids and I joked that our current problem was…. drum roll please… too many good books to pick from!

Currently, we are reading. . .
The Watson’s Go to Birmingham by Christopher Paul Curtis
Doll Bones by Holly Black  
Divergent by Veronica Roth 
Maniac Magee by Jerry Spinelli
Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest by Ann McGovern 
The Maze Runner by James Dashner
The Lions of Little Rock by Kristin Levine
The Shadow Throne by Jennifer A. Nielsen
Half a Chance by Cynthia Lord
Unbelievable by Sara Shepard
The Runaway King by Jennifer A. Nielsen
Unwanteds: Island of Silence by Lisa McMann
Counting by 7’s by Holly Goldberg Sloan

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March.  You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you,  Two Writing Teachers! 

What do you do?

What do you do when the slices of your life aren’t sliceable? When the parts you want to write about are the parts you can’t?

What about when what you want to slice about are students that you have had, have, or will have? What about students who don’t understand a topic, students with learning differences, or who are new to English? You can’t tell the details, but you wish you could. You wish you could describe in detail the way you try to scaffold for them, help them, give them a chance to see themselves as capable. You want to talk about that time they worked so hard on that topic and then it clicked.  You want to write about details! You want to explain the frustration and the worry and the hard work. You want to write about the anger you have that this week they will take a test that might not show their growth, even though you have seen growth. So much growth.  But you can’t write about these learners, because you would need to spin so much fiction in order to maintain confidentiality.

What do you do when your biggest slice is the prayers you have for a person you care about, waiting for good news? But you can’t slice what isn’t yours to slice.

What about when you want to slice about your own children, their emotions, the tough times – the worries you have that you only talk about with some of your friends? You can’t. It seems like the story isn’t quite yours to tell.

What do you do when the things on your mind aren’t slice-able?

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March.  You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you,  Two Writing Teachers! 

I step out of the shower, hopeful that everyone will stay asleep as I finish getting ready for my early meeting at school. But as soon as I breathe a sigh of relief, I hear my littlest guy, E wake up. He’s four and the pitter patter of his feet is one of the cutest sounds in the world. His crying is one of the saddest sounds. As soon as he realizes that I’m not still in my  jammies and in my bed, he begins to cry. These are not crocodile tears, or manipulative cries, but real sadness overflowing.

“I wanted to snuggle you!” he says and my heart breaks.

“Put your jammies back on!” he begs and I want to cry.

I can’t snuggle. I’m already running late for my meeting and I can’t afford to do anything but rush. I can’t not snuggle. His sadness and pleas  are honest, and being a mom is my most important job. I sit with him for a bit. We snuggle on his chair as a compromise.  He settles until I remind him that I have to get ready for work. We snuggle some more, his eyes closed as his head rests on my shoulder. I give kisses and hugs. (“Hugs are very important, mommy.”)  Then I say, “I really need to go. I have a meeting.”

“Snuggles are more important than meetings, mommy.”

He’s right. They are. But I need to go. So I give last hugs, rush rush rush rush rush, give more last hugs to everyone, hop in my car and drive away.

Mornings aren’t always emotionally tough, but when they are, I tend to spend my drive to work wondering if I should quit my job. Mornings that aren’t emotionally tough still make me wonder: How can I bring balance to this double life I lead, as mommy and teacher?

If you have the magic answer, I’d love to hear it.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March.  You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you,  Two Writing Teachers! 

15 years ago I took a spring break trip to Florida. My friend and I drove straight down, all 20+ hours in my future father-in-law’s deep blue pontiac. It wasn’t the pontiac I got engaged in, which also belonged to him, but his other pontiac. As we drove, we watched the snow turn to grass, turn to green as we got farther and farther south. We started by taking turns with the driving, switching every 3 or 4 hours.  By the time we were almost there, we were taking 10 minute turns because we were so tired. We ate candy and celebrated each milestone. I especially remember the sunset in Georgia. It was beautiful and I wanted to live there forever. We arrived at my friend’s house early in the morning, and the next day, K took the pontiac and drove the rest of the way down to her Outward Bound location in the Keys. I spent the day relaxing, and the evening planning the upcoming week with my friend, S. In just shy of 3 months, I would be married! Surely this week belonged to me. I had plans of yoga and walks while S was at work, and so much fun when she got home.

Early the next morning, the phone rang and my friend brought it to me. I should remember the words, but I don’t. My fiancé’s father, Al, had died suddenly. I had to come home. That day is a blur. I know my friend’s parents helped me find a flight that didn’t cost $1000. I know that I had to leave a note for K (She was unreachable in the Keys) I left money with the note and implored K to break up the trip with a night in a hotel.

My week was gone – but I don’t remember feeling anything about that- all I knew was that I needed to be home to comfort and mourn with my fiancé and his family. Two planes later, I  arrived in Philadelphia, where my father had driven my fiancé. Hugs and crying  were next and then preparing for the funeral. I’m sure the time was spent in a flurry of activity. My memories continue to be a blur, and the slices come in snapshots. Arriving at the funeral home. Seeing his father in the open casket. Crying. Greeting family and friends. Comforting. Hearing talk about our upcoming wedding and the sad timing. I remember sitting shiva, and listening to stories about Al. Now those stories were something I should have been recording. People were interesting at the shiva. They either knew Al so well that their stories were almost too personal, or they were there but didn’t know him really, so their words were kind, but misplaced. Al was like nobody else I’ve ever met: unique, and in his older years, trying to be kind – which he hadn’t always been as a young father. No matter how wacky he was in life, he was and is missed greatly by his family and friends

We remembered my father-in-law at our wedding shower 2 weeks later, and my husband spoke of him during our wedding ceremony that spring. I feel lucky that I knew him, and it’s strange to think that he never was officially my father-in-law! Stranger still is that he died 15 years ago. 15. Before our wedding, before our children. Luckily his stories are passed on by my husband – and my children know their Grandpa Al through those stories.