This slice is part of of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
Oh, Finn. I’m trying to write a poem for you! A slice of birthday writing for you! A love poem for you!
A distinguished gentleman, your love more than genuine…
But the sun is out and for you… A sniff-ari walk is the only thing you want to do And so you annoy me, paw at my hands, don’t let me type put the puppy dog eyes on strong. Oh, you!
I forgive you, of course because just look at that face
Since you were a baby, without any gray, you knew how to get your way. Your favorite treats, that list would be long, but carrots, popcorn, cucumbers would come in strong.
I’m just saying, if I didn’t have to wrestle my arm from you, I would write you a Birthday poem, Finn.
Roses are red You are black, with gray I can’t finish this poem Because it’s a sunny day
Oh, Finn! I know You want to go out. Walks are fun, but don’t discount laying sun, and sniff-aris to sniff around a ton.
I can’t believe you’re nine! A distinguished, still spoiled canine.
This slice is part of of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I think I have the dust from 500 old books under my nails and in my nose but there are so many things (not just books) in a school closet
post its magnets foam rectangles yarn (in tangles) buttons, beads soil, seeds toilet paper tubes and unifix cubes exactly how many popsicle sticks does one grade level need?
I have wise words for anyone who, like me can’t concentrate on report cards until a closet is clean— don’t do it yourself, you need to be a we, a team! sorting, storing, supporting throwing away trash, moving bin upon bin hoping the trash can still has room for more trash to fit in finding more popsicle sticks at every turn (the amount of stuff in this closet was a real concern)
lucky for me I teach with Becky who seems to agree that a big job is an adventure and adventures are better with laughter
This slice is part of of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I’m accepting gold stars for making myself go to my canceled, rescheduled, canceled, rescheduled dentist appointment today.
I really didn’t want to go. My day was already a day. Plus it’s a new dentist since my dentist retired and he’s’ nice enough but he’s not my dentist. I mean, he’s my dentist, but he’s not . . . My dentist. Just my new dentist.
My new dentist asked me what I teach, and then he threw me off. He asked me if I was Pennsylvania born and bred, and then, get this, he said “Oh, great! And you’re still working?”
Um. Do I look like I’m retired? How old do you think I am?
It was a long day, that’s all. I might be in my pajamas because it was pajama day at school today, but I’m not retired! It’s the kind of day it’s been. I’m just plain tired.
Speaking of planes.
My son is on one flying to Zurich after being stuck in Philadelphia since yesterday. Then he’s off to Spain.
So maybe I’m a little on edge.
I apologized to my student teacher today, I explained I was feeling the anxiety creep in. He said, “I can tell,” with raised eyebrows.
Cool, cool, cool.
It’s the kind of day it’s been.
But, it was pajama day which I fully support. (Suggestion: Maybe once a week would be appropriate.)
Lucky for me, I got to go to the dentist today, in my pajamas, with my anxiety. That’s sarcastic luck, friends. It’s the kind of day it’s been.
The hygienist, making conversation, as they do, said “Oh when my son, he’s 19 now, a few years ago he convinced me to watch Sweet Magnolias. Have you watched that? It’s a really sweet show about a group of women who are there for each other through all the ups and downs of life. The little town they live in is just full of people looking out for each other.”
I laughed, even though her hands were in my mouth, and she took a break, as they do, so I could respond.
“Well I guess there are different kinds of teenage sons,” I started, “because my 18 year old son, a few years ago, he convinced me to watch Breaking Bad. I feel like that might be the opposite kind of show.”
She asked me if it was a good show, and what it was about. I told her the basics, and then said, “it’s actually a really great show once you get past the episode where they have to get rid of the body with the acid. And you have to be okay with the violence and the drugs and the language.”
“Oh, so just those things to get past?” She said, and we laughed.
I don’t think we talked much after that. It’s the kind of day it’s been.
But, when I was leaving she said, “Breaking Bad? I’m going to try it.” The hygienist in the next room looked out at us and said, “Breaking Bad? Are you corrupting Renee?”
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I might have cried a couple times today.
Did you know that kids don’t really know Puff, the Magic Dragon anymore? Well they don’t. Yet another reason I am feeling O. L. D.
Today someone wanted to use the word puff in a poem and I said, “Puff? Like the magic dragon?”
I got blank stares all around although one kid said, “Yea, I think so…”
So I sang a little bit of it, feeling old, wondering why we don’t play a little Peter Paul and Mary anymore.
It was fun to sing with the kids – well not with, but to the kids. Even through they looked at me like I may have finally lost my mind.
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff And brought him strings, and sealing wax, and other fancy stuff
So cheery! A magic dragon! But, when’s the last time you listened to that song?
Because, it’s a sad one, dude! SAD!
A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys Painted wings and giant’s rings make way for other toys One gray night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more And Puff, that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar
His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave So Puff, that mighty dragon, sadly slipped into his cave
I might have started tearing up as soon as I sang, “A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys!”
Did I tell you that tomorrow my little boy travels to Spain for like a million days? (Okay, he’s 18 and it’s for a week and a half.)
Today, I might have cried when I was telling him how proud I am of him for all his hard work lately.
Today, I might have cried telling my parents how anxious I was about him traveling so far away.
But my first cry was this morning when I accidentally started singing Puff, the Magic Dragon. So I’m blaming Peter Paul and Mary, I guess.
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. I hope you’ll join me
Guilt. I wonder what it feels like to have Real Guilt Capitalized on purpose Guilt Betrayed your family Guilt Cheated on your wife Guilt Committed a crime Guilt
it’s bad enough to have sitting on the couch guilt. did I work enough on Sunday guilt ordered take out for dinner again guilt didn’t take the dog on a second walk guilt
baby guilt lower case guilt is enough guilt for me
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing every day in March. I hope you’ll join me.
The kids are back from special, and it’s our “chill out time.” Soft music plays, the lights are low and everyone does the quiet thing they need to do to get ready for the rest of the day. Some kids are coloring, some are reading, some are resting.
A 7 year old asks me if I want to learn how to make an origami Peter Pan hat he invented. He looks at me with wide expectant eyes.
“Yes. Yes of course I do.”
Yes is the only right answer.
He reaches for the closest paper from my table, a piece of purple from our poetry work. But, I ask him to use orange because every time copies come, there’s more orange paper stuck between the copy sets. We have a lot of orange paper.
He’s fine with orange, but I wonder if I should have offered green. It is Peter Pan, after all.
I have to concentrate to keep up with the directions, but I do it.
“Fold in half. Fold in half again. Fold three down in a triangle shape this way. Fold the other piece down the other way. Puff it out, and it’s a Peter Pan hat!”
We put our hats on our heads, and pose for a picture.
“What a cool hat you figured out!” I tell him.
He smiles, shakes his head. “The funny thing is, Ms. Gabriel, I just accidentally made this! I wasn’t even trying to make a Peter Pan origami hat!”
Across my table another student looks up and says, “That looks just like the origami boat I know how to make.”
The timer goes off, it’s been 5 minutes already, and now it’s time for math!
Tomorrow starts the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’ll be slicing every day for all of March. I hope you’ll join me.
March Eve
This blank page will visit me every day next month tomorrow and I will remember what my students feel when they stare at their blank page so blank
Today we generated ideas for next week’s poetry and one boy wrote stuff stuff stuff like he was an advertisement for a tired second-grader resistant not to writing but to directions
I wrote a terrible poem today with my class but they liked it with smiles and laughter chatter chatter chatter which just goes to show you that the writer often doesn’t know what the reader will like
In reading today, my student teacher asked How do you feel when you read? What emotions do books give you? I watched as kids wrote the words calm, happy, funny I listened to one student say That doesn’t make any sense, there are no emotions inside a book! Which just goes to show you that the reader often doesn’t know either
So tomorrow there won’t be school Saturday Saturday Saturday But I will still feel what my students feel when they stare at the blank page
This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.
My therapist insists I’m not lazy But she hasn’t seen my corner cabinet
It’s been organized, I swear But the Tupperware – which is actually Chinese Food containers mostly – It just falls wherever it wants, also do you expect me to lift the smaller ones to put the larger ones underneath every time?
It’s a Lazy Susan cabinet which what the heck lazy is in it’s name I wonder what Susan’s therapist thinks about that
This morning every morning when I walked into the kitchen, I saw Lazy Susan had swung open Not only does she drop my lids into her abyss She also can’t stay closed to save her life
Or maybe I didn’t close her last night
And I wondered if my cabinet is trying to teach me something like patience or patience adjacent like perseverance determination or maybe not to keep all the Chinese Food leftover containers or maybe to stop overthinking, you’re thinking
Don’t get me started on my bottom drawer The baking drawer Where cocoa powder spilled I think a year ago Luckily, I don’t have time for baking anymore
This slice is part of the Slice of Life on Two Writing Teachers! #sol25. I’m slicing on as many Tuesdays as I can. I hope you’ll join me.
Years ago when I was a coach, a first-grade teacher told me she loved moving to first grade from the upper grades once her own kids were older.
She had an eloquent way of explaining it, and I don’t want to misquote her… but it had something to do with how primary kids still show you how they love you and need you and think you’re great.
Teenagers…well… not so much.
Living by myself with my two amazing teenagers is something.
Wow.
Thank goodness I go to school every day with 6,7 and 8 year olds who draw me pictures, want me to tell them stories, and to listen to all the parts of their day. My students more often than not think I have the right answer. They even laugh at my jokes and love my songs!
I’ll say it again, every day 19 kids laugh at my jokes, love my songs, and learn from the things I teach them.
And then I go home.
If you ever need to knock someone’s self-worth, self-confidence, self-esteem down several pegs, I recommend having them become a single-mom to a few teenage boys.
Most days I’m reminded in multiple ways from a few of my most favorite people, that I’m not funny, not cool, not smart, not right, and that in fact, I’m ruining their otherwise fine day in some way.
I’d love to pivot here and tell you about the good parts to. I’d love to tell you how when we had our recent power outage those very same teenage boys helped change smoke detector batteries, find flashlights and take the dog out in the dark-no-street-lights-no-porch-lights-no-house-lights night. But, this is no place to write about the nice times.
Instead, I’ll have you imagine that power outage, and how one of the only flashlights I could find was my old headlamp. So I wore it around the house, as I tried to make sure we were doing all the things we needed to do, and taking care of all the things we needed to take care of.
“Why are you acting so crazy about this?” One teenager kept asking me.
“It’s not that deep.” I was reminded.
And my favorite…
“Why do you have that on your head? You look like a f!@#ing angler fish.”
On a Thought 