Category Archives: Slice of Life

#sol20 March 8 A Late Slice

Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

A slice of a lost password
When a long day ends with a funny story, and It’s late
but you have just enough time to write it.
Then your WordPress account won’t work.
It won’t let you in.
It won’t let you change your password
It times you out
And your kids are still up
And you might cry
And you are so tired
So you write in a google document and write it on Facebook
Hoping that the timeout WordPress gave you will be over before midnight.
When the timeout is over, it happens again.
11:55 now.
11:58
And the March Challenge has you beat!
11:59
Post it on Facebook
12:00 Try WordPress one more time
Copy
Paste
12:03
Publish

 

#sol20 March 7 A Slice at the Grocery Store

Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

 

At the grocery store, I stare at my items on the conveyor belt. I didn’t think I needed this much for our spring break, but I guess it makes sense.

Veggies
Chips
Dip
Vegan Mac & Cheese
Strawberries
Wine
Firelogs
Dark Chocolate
Wine
Vitamins
Zinc
Laundry Detergent…

I wonder if people think it’s an odd assortment of items – I even try to take a picture to show off how strange it is.

Or maybe anyone passing by can just tell that it’s a mom’s conveyor belt for Spring break:  Snacks by the fire, easy dinners, let’s not get sick, there’s no more hand sanitizer on the shelves, and by the way, we also need to keep up with the laundry.

One of my items doesn’t ring right, and I joke with the clerk, “I’m just here to make your day more exciting!”

“Oh, that’s just what I need,” she says, “after that last family with an $881 order! Three carts worth!”

“Wow,” I say. I feel better about the size of my order.

“Yea, I don’t know if they were one of those people in a panic, stocking up for the pandemic or what,” she says.

“Well, I’m just stocking up for Spring Break!” (Aren’t I witty with the checkout banter?)

And then we talk about hand washing, and how shouldn’t people be doing that anyway? I tell her I’m a teacher, so hand washing is kind of second nature to me.

“Oh, yea,” she says. “That’s what I did too. I was a teacher. I remember back when we had a flu scare. The county brought in gigundo bottles of hand sanitizers and huge boxes of tissues. But then they took us teachers aside to tell us that we shouldn’t use the hand sanitizer too much, or it would stop working against the germs. Soap and water are the best.”

I agree that soap and water are the best bet, she hands me my receipt and we say goodbye,  wishing each other good health.

I feel kind of weird about it, but I take a squirt of the hand sanitizer on my way past the bottle attached to the end of the counter. I mean, better safe than sorry.

#sol20 March 6 A slice in a Parking Lot

Pets, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

Listen, I admit it. I’m the kind of person you might look at funny in the parking lot of Trader Joes.

Listen, I admit it.  If I’m putting my groceries into my car, and I suddenly realize that I have been hearing a whining sound from behind me, I’m going to turn around.

Listen, I admit it. If I turn around and the whining sound stops, I’m going to pucker my lips out a little and start questioning the dog in the car beside me – the dog I didn’t notice before.

Listen, I admit it. I’m going to ask him if he just wanted attention. I’m going to say, “Was that you? Were you trying to say hello? What are you doing? You’re all serious now, aren’t you? Are you trying to pretend that wasn’t you whining a second ago?”

Listen, I admit it. I’m going to realize mid-speech that it maybe isn’t totally normal to be chatting with a dog you don’t know. I’m going to realize that people might not even see that there is anyone there – canine or human. I probably look like I’m talking to myself.

Listen, I admit it. After I realize this, I’m going to start talking again. “Oh!” I’ll say. “You are super cute even though you are trying to look all serious. What are you thinking about? Where’s your person? You’re such a good dog! A front seat dog!”

Listen, I admit it. I’m going to take a picture before I put my cart away…because look at that puppers!

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#sol20 March 5 A Slice of Apology

Family, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

 

Twice this week I have gotten a coffee in the afternoon, not finished it, put it in the fridge and heated it up in the morning. Then I can pretend I was actually up early enough to stop for coffee.

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This morning I remembered I had an almost full Dunkin in the fridge, and I was so excited.

Then my husband said, “Oh! Just like Nanny!”

Oh. Yep. Just like Nanny.

It used to drive me crazy. My mother-in-law kept old coffee in the pot in the fridge, or sometimes on top of the fridge. She would offer us yesterday’s coffee, and we’d inwardly roll our eyes and decline.  She’d say, “Are you sure? I can micro it.” But instead, we’d go run and grab a fresh coffee.

She’s gone now. But I think I owe her an apology.

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#sol20 March 4 A Slice of a Poem, I Guess?

poetry, Reflections on coaching, Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

 

I don’t usually hear owls in the morning.

Do I?

This is what I am thinking as I arrive at school, balancing my coffee and bags and a water bottle, and my phone so I can speech-to-text a note to myself to remember later. Only, my phone thinks I’ve said, “I don’t usually hear about it in the morning.”

So I have to rebalance my bags so I can correct that in the note– because it feels like a slice. If I go home hours later and see a note that says “I don’t usually hear about it in the morning,” I’ll never know what I was talking about.

I breathe in the cool morning air, that feels both like it’s spring now, and also like it could snow any day.

Maybe this will be the kind of day where there are slices all around me, I think. Maybe I’ll fill my note on my phone with amazing inspiration for a poem that starts with

I don’t usually hear owls in the morning. 

I can add something about the cool morning air.

I don’t usually hear owls in the morning
Cool morning
Spring air
Snow soon

What a poet I am! I write a little in my mind while I walk to my room.

It will be a day full of slice inspiration. Slice-piration! 

Only I’m pretty busy, and the only other note I write is scrawled on a post-it on a page of the 5th-grade literary essay book. It’s a comment a student makes during the connection of our mini-lesson, and I have to write it down because I need it for my #finthejoy video.

I had reminded the class I was there for writing yesterday, and that today we were going to continue growing ideas about our stories to help us with interpretations for our literary essays.

“Wait. You were here yesterday?” A boy asked. “Morning or afternoon?”

“Afternoon.”

“You’re like a ninja!” he said.

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So, that’s my poem for the day, I guess. It must mean something, right?

 

I don’t usually hear owls in the morning

Cool morning
Spring air
Snow soon

Like a ninja

 

#sol20 March 3 A Slice of Thoughts Between the Chorus

Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

 

L and I are in the car, driving to my friend Mardi’s. We’re listening to Lizzo. 

“I do my hair toss
Check my nails
Baby how you feelin’?
Feeling good as hell”

L is borrowing some travel accessories for an upcoming trip. Mardi has a belt wallet, and some international electricity adaptors, and maybe a suitcase. 

“Wait. What are we hoping to get from Mardi?” L asks me.

And in my mind, I laugh, thoughts drifting away from Lizzo for just a moment. 

What are we hoping to get from Mardi?

Wisdom, life lessons, love, an example of how to do almost anything the right way… 

How to be a good mom, the kind who puts her kids first, and sets limits and knows mistakes happen. Who makes the kids do chores, and who also snuggles. 

How to be a good friend, the kind who drops everything to come over when she’s needed  – to talk or walk, or even to help you clean out your basement, and knows how to find good restaurants in New York, and goes to bat for you whenever – but only if you are okay with it. And the kind who laughs at your stupid jokes.

How to be a good teacher, the kind who loves to teach, but loves kids even more, who sets boundaries in her classroom and talks to kids so they always know she respects them and also that she expects them to do the work. The kind of teacher who knows you. 

What are we hoping to get from Mardi?

Encouragement, love, laughter, a smile, advice, you know – just all the things you need. 

“Oh,” I say to L, snapping out of my thoughts, “We are going to get that wallet belt thing – and probably see if she has a suitcase.” 

“I do my hair toss
Check my nails
Baby how you feelin’?
Feeling good as hell”

#sol20 March 1 A Slice of Vegan

Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

I recently received some pictures from NAPDS. Well, I got a link to where I might purchase and download some pictures. The pictures made me laugh for many reasons, and then I noticed that my nametag was flipped over in one of the pictures so all that you see is my meal ticket that says “vegan.” I’d show you the picture, but it doesn’t belong to me. You’ll just have to imagine. 

It makes it seem as if I have been labeled. 

Watch out! The Vegan has entered the room! 

Hi, I’m vegan. Nice to meet you. 

It was lovely to receive these little meal tickets when I registered at the conference. The directions were to hand the ticket to a server at each meal. #inclusivity 

I got a chance to try it out at our first lunch. It was a buffet, so it was a little tricky to find someone to help me. I glanced at the buffet tables in case there might just be some vegan food labeled already. Salad with cheese, creamy dressing, pasta (Is there butter on it? I don’t think so), and a bunch of kinds of unlabeled sauces (Alfredo? Meat? Maybe marinara? Vegetables in something…chicken broth?), and some plates of buttery cookies. 

Finally, I found a server and asked if he could help me with my ticket. He looked at me with a crinkled brow and said, “That’s for tomorrow.” 

“Oh,” I said, thinking about the stack of tickets I had received for all the meals at the conference. “I got like 4 of them!” 

“Well, how many vegan meals do you NEED?” He asked in shock, adding “I’ll see what I can do,” as he walked away. 

I never saw that guy again. I did eat some pasta and marinara that seemed safe. But in case you are wondering, I actually eat a vegan meal every time!

A Slice of Recharge

Reflections on coaching, Slice of Life, Uncategorized

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

 

My Tuesdays are full of meetings, usually with 10 minutes in between. Today, I went to my room between meetings, plugged in my laptop, added a few yellow sunbursts to my “sunny days ahead” sign, and munched an apple while I took a picture of my new motivational sign. 

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I leaned against my counter for a minute, feeling guilty for not getting something from my to-do list done. I mean, that’s hard to do in 5-minute intervals, but not impossible. 

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I looked down at my laptop, and thought, “Well, at least I got my laptop a little recharged for the next meeting.” 

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Only then did it occur to me that maybe my minute of coloring and minute of apple crunching was my recharge. I mean, if my laptop deserves a recharge, maybe I do too? 

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Is this what they call self-care? 

I took another picture of myself to remember that today, I did indeed have 5 minutes of self-care.

A slice of grape bubblegum memories

Family, Slice of Life

Slice of LIfePart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

 

I took H to the doctor and it happened to be an office in the same building as my very own pediatrician from decades ago. (Decades!)

There’s a pharmacy at the entrance of this medical building, and I remember when I went to the doctor as a child, my mom would let me stop at the pharmacy and get a pack of grape bubblegum. It was the kind with juice in the center.  Do they even make that anymore? I can see the rounded rectangle package, and how each rounded square of gum was wrapped. If I concentrate, I can remember the taste of that gum, and the surprising squirt of grape liquid!

Childhood feels like it must have been a different lifetime, where grape bubblegum was the specialist of treats. This thought, standing in front of the pharmacy invades the back of my mind: How many lifetimes have I had? Childhood, middle school, adolescence, the college years, beginning teacher, mom of babies, mom of little kids, mom of preteens and teenagers…

H says, “Maybe I should get a treat now, just like you used to!”

I almost say, “No! We gotta go!” But, come on.

As we look at the treats, I tell the young clerk about my grape bubblegum memories, and she smiles and seems to actually remember that kind of gum. Their current gum selection is boring though, so we buy tic tacs and a bag of skittles to share.

I don’t think H will always remember that pharmacy like I always remember it. We’ve only been to this doctor twice, it’s not our regular office. I’m not sure skittles and tic tacs are really that memorable.

I don’t know what makes a memory stick. But, I want to always remember driving him to his appointment, and laughing together. I want to remember how I got him with a funny trick, and how we both cracked up at how unusually gullible he was. I want to remember how he was worried a car was going to start pulling away from the curb, so he said “Careful! He’s going to turn on us!” and I said, “After all these years?”

I don’t know what makes a memory stick. But, I want to remember the ease of chatting as we got back in the car, and how H’s 13-year-old self generously poured skittles into my hand.

I just wish I knew what makes a memory stick.