Category Archives: Celebrate

Somehow it’s my Sister’s Birthday Today

April 18, 2024Celebrate, Family, poetryonathought

Somehow it’s my sister’s birthday today
I was 12 when she was born
My parents waited to tell me my mom was in labor
So I could go to school for
Whatever standardized test was happening in Pennsylvania
34 years ago

Words cannot describe how excited I was to finally
Have a sibling
I handed out big sister purple pencils instead of cigars
I was obviously a very cool seventh grader
(My perm sealed the deal.)
But the actual coolest thing was my baby sister.
And my sister is
Actually still
The coolest
For real
I mean, have you talked to her?
Have you seen her art?

See this favorite family picture
It’s one of my favs, I’m sure you can see why
Notice please-
Her bangs and smile
Her dress with the white lace collar
My dark teenage eyes, somehow perfect hair
The cool shirt I vaguely remember and now suddenly miss
The way my mom casually holds my sister
My dad’s small smile and his sweater
(My parents here about my age now)
Don’t miss
The toucan behind us!

Relax. It’s March (Soon Enough, It Will Be April.)

March 31, 2024Celebrate, Family, Pets, poetry, Reflections on coaching, Reflections on teaching, Slice of Lifeonathought

I was so inspired by Fran’s Relax slice, and I’ve been trying different versions on my own. But, it’s hard! Today I read a lot of people’s March Slice of Life wrap up slices, and I thought … what if I did a wrap up Relax slice? It might seem depressing … but the cool thing is that I’m still standing! Here’s my try, from my month of slices: Relax. It’s March (Soon Enough, It Will Be April)

Relax.
It’s March.
Things are going to be bad.
You will realize you have been wearing the tag
on your shoe in public. It will make you laugh,
and write. You will be angry about things you can’t
quite publish. You will know you will never be
as unf***withable as your friend was. Noticing things
all month will become an issue. There won’t be any
paper towels or plastic garbage bags at your airbnb
and you will sob saying goodbye to your daughter. You will continue
to parent teenagers. An honor, for sure, but also so tiring
being a punching bag. You will go to Home Goods and
realize that death is just around the corner, and you will
not practice your therapist’s advice in order to pause that
catastrophic anxiety. The SATs will come and go. Your son will
curse at his computer screen while practicing. This will make
you feel, once again, like a bad mom. Your kids will roll their eyes
at you. A lot. Spring break will end, and all the poetry you write
will not stop school from coming in like a lion. Even your dog
will be embarrassed by you, although he is an old man, not a teenager.
The world of education will continue to go mad, citing research
that the powerful cherry pick. Meanwhile, you will go in and out
of classrooms finding joy but not realizing you should
have been paying attention to how the teachers took
lunch count. It will warm your heart to hear your cat play,
but she will be alone without her cat brothers which will
break your heart. People will be scared to voice their opinions,
and you will feel like a storm is coming. You will worry
that more things will be thrown out with the bath
water. Your dog will get sick which you won’t write about, because
ew, gross. You will try to remember that it won’t be winter
forever but anxiety will take hold as you wait
for a meeting. You will try to spend your energy thinking
about little joyful things. You will realize almost nobody
can be trusted, and that fumbling through
new things is in your future. A glass will get stuck in your
garbage disposal. You will lose faith, but you will always have poetry,
which will help you march on. Undappled won’t be the word you
want it to be. There will be too many questions in your head, and
you will search for answers. You will be reminded of betrayal, as if
you need to be reminded. Your filter will disintegrate,
and you will stop watching your face, but your connections
will just keep growing. You will be proud of your kids, even
when you have to use google translate. The Easter Bunny won’t
leave jelly beans on the piano, but there will be
a scavenger hunt for the teenagers, and then there will be
a quiet Sunday afternoon. Soon enough, it will be April.

Easter

March 30, 2024Celebrate, Family, poetry, Slice of Lifeonathought

When I’d wake up on Easter morning,
I’d search for jellybeans
around the house
black jelly beans on the black piano keys, that sort of thing
we weren’t
church people
not that there’s anything wrong with that
some of my favorite people
go to church

I loved the mini Cadbury eggs with the crunchy candy shell best
and the little carton of egg-shaped gum
we must have had Easter dinners somewhere
I have vague vegetarian memories of
watching people eating ham
we weren’t
ham people

I will never understand eating
ham
or lamb
especially on Easter
here, let’s celebrate life, joy, hope,
the spring
by killing this baby animal
it just doesn’t make sense
even though
some of my favorite people
eat baby animals

One year my daughter lost her tooth
the night before Easter
The Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny had to come the same night
They left a note together and I was left
wondering what other magical visitors could
come together
I guess the Tooth Fairy could meet anyone else
since teeth can fall out
any day

Some people use
Easter as a time to practice
forgiveness
but I have learned that not
everything needs to be forgiven
so I will focus on rebirth
and hope
and just a little bit of
vegan chocolate

Happy Birthday, Sara

September 13, 2022Celebrate, Slice of Lifeonathought

Part of Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Challenge

You had a request for your birthday
Asked me for a gift of writing
No gift, you said
I mean it, you said.

So I keep writing to you
in my head
as I walk to my car
from classroom to classroom
around the block with my dog

Yesterday, I saw an inspirational quote –
it said once you’ve known someone for 10 years
they become family.
I wonder what happens after 35 years.
Has it been 35? Friendship math is hard
especially when you have to decide if you count from the first bus ride

At 20, we were 10 years in – a decade.
Family.
I could have written then—
stories about
bus stops, bus seat, late busses, saltines and hot chocolate
Bat Mitzvahs and scrabble
crushes and sewing class and secrets
boyfriends, drives to school, moving, graduation
the importance of sour cream cheddar chips and peanut chews
Hub Salads with ranch and important conversations at Eat-n-Park

At 30
2 decades in
Aunt Sara and Aunt Ona to our kids
I could have written then —
Stories about
college graduation and more moving,
planning weddings, wedding speeches and periwinkle dresses and also
planning babies, showers and
calls in the middle of the night about emergency C-sections,
bravery, love, the NICU
nursing and pumping and sleeping on Elmo couches and 24-hour nurses and eventually babies meeting each other and cribs and toddlers and more babies and the absolute exhaustion, and oh – husbands too.

We are past 40 now (yikes)
Over 3 decades in
Our families are family
Our kids like cousins
Every so often we pile all 7 kids together on a couch for a picture,
and there was that one time we piled them in your car and took them to Ikea.

I know I promised you a gift of writing
but there’s a problem.
you can’t fit 35 years onto a page
I thought I could write articulately, but I don’t know how to shout it with words how you are a
rock
a soft place
a holder of my memories
a cheerleader
I’d be lucky just to know you
but I get to love you to!
I couldn’t live without sending you memes, and exchanging pictures of our wine pours

One day, decades ago,
we stood at a bus stop in the snow.
we sat in your car driving to school.
we hung out at the mall.
we had saltines and secrets
we said goodbye and you moved to Florida.
you came back and left again
It was decades ago we cried at each other’s weddings
decades!

I don’t know how it’s been decades
since we’re
still
so
young.

Happy Birthday, Sara.

A Gift of Writing for You:

Roses are red
So is your hair
It’s amazing how
you’re always there

A Slice of ice

August 24, 2021Celebrate, Family, Slice of Lifeonathought

My ice-maker — the one in the door of the freezer — It works now.
It makes ice.

We got the fridge a decade ago
Our old house didn’t have the hook-up for the ice
we were so excited when we moved
almost 6 years ago — to finally be able to have water and ice from door dispenser.
But the ice-maker wouldn’t make ice.
You could hear it try
And once, through some deceptive magic, one cube was born.
On that day we were so relieved! It was fixed!
But then water poured out
it wasn’t magic after all.

So we started filling the ice bin with ice from bags
at least we could dispense it
First World Problems
First World Solutions

Lately I’ve heard a whirling in the freezer
Sometimes a drop or a clink
And now the ice-maker works.
It
makes
ice.
The bin is full of ice
(for now, I guess. I won’t count my chickens, or rather my cubes, just yet…)

I don’t know if it was just the ice-maker’s time
Or maybe it just needed the mentor of the bagged ice
But whatever the reason,
If this sort of miracle is possible …
Doesn’t it just give you hope?

A Comic Slice: Mommy Starts School

May 8, 2019Celebrate, Comic Slice, Family, Slice of Lifeonathought

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

Well, it made me a little late… but I was once again inspired by Beth Moore‘s comic slices… and since I just came back from TCRWP’s Graphic Novel Institute, I had to take that inspiration and give it a try.

Hareem Atif Khan, one of the amazing teachers at the institute said this wonderful thing about me, that nobody has ever said before… that I make my own process visible as a public learner, that I take risks. Screen Shot 2019-05-08 at 12.39.42 AM.png

I don’t know if her compliments are true, but I’m going to try to make them true. (Thanks, Austin Kleon for these words!)

So, I’m making my first comic slice visible.

Listen, it’s not great. It’s not really even good! But, it’s ok. My desk is full of eraser clumps. My hands have pencil rubbings all over them. There are a million things I’d revise if it weren’t 12:37 a.m.

One day, maybe I’ll post a comic without a preface. Today is not that day. The first steps out of your comfort zone are weird, right?

Here’s my first Comic Slice: Mommy Starts School.

Choosing to Celebrate

November 22, 2018Celebrateonathought

celebrate-image …. a little early, but in the spirit of Ruth Ayres, I’m celebrating.

Thanksgiving 

I made sweet potatoes with maple syrup, brown sugar
and earth balance
What a good name. 
Earth
Balance. 

I made stuffing
or is it dressing? 
It lives in a pan
not a bird. 
Thank goodness. 

I am thankful for
my family
duh
my friends
of course
The blue sky, the sunshine
I'm lucky
 -- not a Turkey. 
Thank goodness. 

A vegan Thanksgiving
requires a certain 
wall in your brain
so you can remain thankful
hopeful celebratory
instead of 
sad

I apologize to past Turkeys I've 
eaten, years ago. 
I hold the millions of murdered turkeys
in the light
I'm human
humane
Thank goodness.

I don't judge my 
friends, my family
for their 
tradition, their habit, or their tastes
But I have to tell you
even though I know you don't want to hear it
I've met turkeys
they are intelligent
unique voiced
social beings 
with 
affection and
geography skills
so...

I looked up who 
used to live where I live
#originalpeople

I live on the land of the 
Haudenosauneega Confederacy
Susquehannock
I don't know much about them
yet
aside from
longhouses

So I guess today
Thanksgiving
is even more complicated 
than I thought
(Just like everything, I guess) 

Much to honor and hold in the light
Much to be thankful for
Much to mourn
Much to celebrate

Dear Past, Dear Future

April 15, 2018Celebrate, Familyonathought

I’m celebrating with Ruth Ayres today!

Dear Past Me,

One day the preschool boy who loves science will absolutely perfect the vegan oatmeal raisin cookie. He will make these while you write (ok, and fall asleep) on the couch, before he makes chocolate chip cookies with his younger brother.

You will still have many messes to clean up in the kitchen, but everyone knows that oatmeal raisin cookies make cleaning up easier.

Dear Future Me,

There was at least one Sunday where you fell asleep on the couch. Your 11 year old made you vegan cookies, and the dog slept next to you. You decided not to care about the shoes all over, and the dirty dishes that multiply by the minute. Your 8 year old watched Pokemon, and you reminded yourself that it was Sunday (translation: chill out).

There might have been glitter on the kitchen floor, slime supplies piled on the counter and a cone on the dog’s head. . . but there were also cookies, a puppy, and naps.

With Gratitude and Celebration,

Current Me.

#sol18 March 31 Keep On

March 31, 2018Celebrate, Slice of Lifeonathought

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. You should do it too! Thank you, Two Writing Teachers! Readers, check out their site, and start slicing! I’m also celebrating with Ruth Ayres today!

March is a celebration of writing for me. Now that it’s over, I need to find a way to keep it still.

I’m in the Wegman’s line (yes, again). The cashier asks me, “Do you want this double bagged?”

“No thanks. Thanks for asking though.”

“Do you want one of your teas left out?”

“No thanks. Thanks for asking though.”

And then she seems to ask, “$39.85?”

I really want to say “No thanks. Thanks for asking though.”

As I walk away, I laugh to myself at this little mini slice of life. It’s the last day of March, so I’m thinking hard about slices and how to hold on to all of this noticing and writing.

Walking to the parking lot, I almost get hit by a car because I assumed they were stopped for me. . Then as I walked down the sidewalk to grab a coffee a young man swung in front of me. I hoped my trajectory was obvious, but he spun around and pulled the door open with a flourish. Only, it was the door to the hair salon. As I passed him by he looked embarrassed and said, “Well, I guess you aren’t going there.” I opened the coffee shop door wondering if my hair looked like I definitely needed to go to the salon.

I’m already sad about all the slices I’ll miss after today. I’ll try to write slices weekly, but we all know how that goes. I’ll try to jot notes on my phone, but I mostly I won’t. History says I’ll still notices slices. Once you slice every day, it’s hard to stop noticing. But, will I write them? Will I write?

Walking into the shop to grab my coffee, I notice all the people at tables, with open computers. I’m so jealous of what looks to be focused writing. For all I know, they are probably studying and annoyed to not be somewhere else, but still. It is cozy there, with the smell of coffee, the soft chattering of friends, and the clicking of keys.

I hope I can take this habit of writing and tweak it just a little. I have other writing projects I want to finish, some I still need to start. Some have been revised, some need to be revised. I have query letters to write, and I have to figure out who to send them to. If I’m jealous of people sitting in front of open computers on a Saturday afternoon, I think that means I need to write more, not less. I’ll write. I have to write.

#sol18 March 25 A sunny Sunday celebration slice (from my chair)

March 25, 2018Celebrate, Family, Pets, Slice of Lifeonathought

I sit to write at a sunny window. It’s quiet-ish around here, and I look around. From my chair, I see some lovely Sunday celebrations. I see…

H sitting next to me, his mini paper towels are complete, and he’s working on his mini Harry Potter Book. He sits chatting and singing Into the Woods songs, making miniatures.

Finn, somehow still downstairs, not staring at the the bedroom door trying to sniff out the kittens. He sees something outside and leaps to our rescue. I don’t know what it was. A bird? A neighbor? A leaf? We will never know.

E, drawing monsters in the kitchen. He has pages and pages of creative monsters he’s drawn. They have strengths, weights, evolutions, and awesome names. So many details, so much color.

Things don’t stay the way they are for long. That’s the only thing that’s constant around here: Change.

E was frustrated with his pictures, he’s taking a break from his coloring. H is done with this miniature book, he’s searching for his next project. Finn is finally tired out enough to rest on his couch in the sun. (As he should be, since I took him out for a 2 hour walk…) And that, friends, is something to truly celebrate.