Category Archives: Slice of Life

#sol14 March 1

Slice of LIfe 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

Saturday.

A weekend! Catch up days: catching up on work and quality-time-snuggles with my children. Well, that’s the idea anyway. 

Today is Saturday. The sink is full of dishes that nobody wants to do. The week’s worth of laundry has piled up and up, and last week’s laundry is still waiting to be folded. There are toys all over, and cleaning needs to happen.  However,

http://www.someecards.com/
http://www.someecards.com/

Today is Saturday. I brought home a bag full of grading to do, and next week’s plans are still just shells. But, like most Saturdays, my plan doesn’t pan out.

trains

Today is Saturday. After a week of packing lunches and sending everyone on their merry way to schools and babysitters, I can’t wait so spend quality time with my 3 kids. But, like most Saturdays, we spend the greater part of the day trying to remember how to all get along in our shared space.

Can I get some cooperation around here?
Can I get some cooperation around here?

Today is Saturday. Like most Saturdays, I spend the morning grumbling about the mess, trying to plan my day, and attempting to catch up on some relaxation. Then, like most Saturdays, the afternoon finds me realizing I just need to get my act together. Duh.   Finally my Saturday feels like a weekend. Meeting a friend to exercise, getting my grocery shopping done, sitting down to just color with my children, giving baths, reading Harry Potter to my sleepy snuggly kids before bed. . . Today is Saturday!

Work out with a friend, Check!
Work out with a friend, Check!
Sometimes just a tall Starbucks can be the celebration.
Sometimes  a tall Starbucks can be just the thing to get a Saturday back.
4 year old "E," celebrated Saturday by requesting 3 drinks to go with his gourmet pb&j.
4 year old “E,” celebrated Saturday by requesting 3 drinks to go with his gourmet pb&j dinner.

A SLICE of the message

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This is a very late  Slice of Life, a link up started by Two Writing Teachers. It’s late, but I say it counts! I wrote it for Tuesday, and just now had the chance to actually post it. 

Slice of Life: Martin Luther King Jr. Day

My children’s school puts on a Martin Luther King Jr. Day play each year on this day. This was the second year my daughter participated in the play, and the first year they did a performance at night – which means it was my first chance to watch it. 

I thought I had everything planned and figured out. Mr. Thought will do school pick up, karate preparation, and karate drop off. When I come home and change from my #nerdultion exercise attire back into regular clothes, I will  pack the kids sandwiches for a “van picnic.” Mr. Thought will pick kids up from karate, bring them home to change back into regular clothes (or in L’s case, dressy clothes). We will race to the school just in time for L to join her classmates, and the rest of us to join the audience. We will sit peacefully and enjoy the play and the singing. If the boys get restless, they will surely color with the crayons and paper I have dutifully remembered to bring.

I forgot. I forgot that H will be tired, and will have already seen this play during school. I forgot. I forgot that E will be overtired, having not had a nap. . . I’ve been a parent for over 10 years, and it’s incredible how much I can forget. 

H walks in from Karate and says, “I’m not going. I already saw this play, and just like Martin Luther King says ‘Ain’t going to let nobody turn me around,’ I’m not going to let you make me go.”

Well, then. 

I am mad, and I am proud. He could very well ruin this evening for L, and make us late, or be rude during the performance if we make him go. However, he obviously watched the play at school if he can make such a clear connection to his life. He is feeling unfairly treated, and he has a point. So, I call my mom and see if by chance he could hang with her.

Of course he can. We have to leave in 5 minutes, and L is still changing, H is deciding if he should stay or go. (Please sing it) E catches on, and now he wants to stay with Granny.  And after lots of screaming, crying, and figuring out, it is decided that both boys will stay.

Somehow we are still on time! As the performance begins, I am drawn into this story of the non-violent Civil Rights Movement as the middle school students tell it, and the Peace Choir sings it (that’s where L is, singing with vigor). The story is moving, the songs are heartfelt, and the message is beautiful. To hear these students speak of freedom and equality brings tears to my eyes.

When the students sing “Ain’t going to let nobody turn me around,”  I think of H, and how he should win some “house points” from Dumbledore. If “…It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends…” it must take even more bravery to stand up to your mom. I’m glad he understands that part of the message – stand up for yourself and your rights!

Finally

solPart of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

It was Christmas decorating time this weekend. Finally. We waited until the snowiest Saturday morning we could find to drive to the Christmas Tree stand… Husband (a.k.a. Mr. Thought) trudges outside to get the van all heated up, and ready for the great tree insertion, when it becomes alarmingly apparent that we need gas (because the van putters to a stop) The snow is piling up, the kids are anxious for the tree, and we wait as the van engine is turned over, turned over, turned over. E refuses to get his boots on, H is still playing, L wants to watch a show. I want to go get the tree, or at least to know we aren’t going, so I can adjust my day’s aspirations.

The van starts. Finally. Kids are loaded in and we slip and slide to the stand, where we pick the tree as quickly as we can, (“It’s freezing, this one is perfect!”) pay, and stuff the tree into the van. We realize we have blocked L’s access to her seat, so we insert her feet first as well.

The tree is up. Finally. H and E decide to water it using a funnel system that somehow requires a shelf, a giant bin, some sort of metal tube, a funnel, a few pitchers of water and my glass lemonade dispenser. Nothing like a little physics with your Christmas spirit. Ornament boxes need to be dragged in, and space needs to be cleared, and kids need lunch (every day!) and somehow the day goes by with messes to clean, work to do, and play dates. So tree decorating is put off until Sunday.

Decorating happens Sunday morning with all the favorite memory-inducing ornaments. Finally.   Have you ever decorated a tree with a 4 year old? I am okay with odd ornament placing and I fix some things while his eyes are off of the tree. However, the hanging of the beaded garland is the last straw for E, as he feels he should be the one to climb the ladder and place the string around the tree…

And then it is bedtime. Finally.  So, I do something that I wish I could do more often: I ignore the mess (and there is quite the mess of train tracks and crafts and have I mentioned that Mr. Thought is remodeling our kitchen?) and I turn out the living room lights, and just enjoy the quiet, and focus on the Christmas tree with lights. Finally.

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My First Slice

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Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

Slice of life.

Today I free wrote and drafted with my students: our first ever Slice of Life piece! It was a good lesson. We used 2 slices that I found on my twitter feed this morning (The Honor of Watching Her Age by Katherine Sokolowski, and Because of Winn Dixie by Colby Sharp.) We closely read them to try to figure out the structure of a Slice of Life piece,  and then started our own pieces. As I free wrote with the kids, I started to write about my children at home this morning. I was trying to decide which piece of my morning slice I would choose: Waking up smooshed between the 3 year old, “E” and 7 year old, “H?” The chubby sleepy cheeks of both of them, looking even younger as they sleep? Remarking with H on how his brother still looks like a baby when he’s sleeping? The soft patter of H as he sleepily makes his way downstairs, already dressed because that’s the first thing he does? My 10 year old daughter, L, waking up bright but sleepy; her brightness turning sour as clothing tags itched and hair was brushed of tangles? Husband, with his gray knit hat starting the car for me, telling me to be safe? Leaving the house with a kiss and a goodbye to all? Watching my daughter in her daily routine of coming all the way outside with me to give the final wave goodbye? Driving to school only to get a phone call that little E forgot that he already said goodbye, is sad, and wants to say goodbye again?

The slice of my morning is often the same – rushed and stressful with snippets of cuteness built into the package so I don’t run away screaming before the lunches are packed. My brain struggles to take snapshots of the amazing moments, the soft snuggles, the cute expressions, and amazing smart ideas of my kids. I soak up all the hugs I can get as I rush to work…

As I sat down this evening to finish my draft of my morning slice, so I could post it on my blog like the big kid #slice13 challenger I hope to one day be,  I heard E start to cough, and then get sick in his bed. What happened next is by-the-book, night-time, sick-child parenting. Put down computer, run up stairs, grab towels and wipes (it was too late). Take whimpering child (“I’m sick! I’m cold! Mama!”) into bathroom, peel off jammies, put child in the tub, rinse and repeat. . . 

My new slice is this little guy, almost 4, sitting in our giant tub. The bathroom is a mess from remodeling and the laundry problem that is it’s own “slice,” I’m sure. The heater doesn’t work (Know a good heater guy who might actually call us back?) and the sinks need to be wiped down. But, the little guy! He has a soaking wet hot washcloth on his back, and is finally calm from the warm water. His eyes are closing and when I take the wash cloth off his back to rewarm it, he asks me to put back the “cozy towel.” He sleeps in the tub, totally confident and comfortable and trusting that my hands are there – letting him sleep and recover from the sick without falling in the water. He breathes comfortably. There are a few coughs here and there, but he is better than before. Out of the tub and into my bed he goes. And that is where I am writing this, with my not-still-a-baby-but-still-my-baby, cuddled up (on a towel, just in case!) Even though this slice is messy, and a little gross… I’m taking brain snapshots because I want to remember these cheeks, these snuggles, these middle of the night sleeping baths!