The Unexpected

I was at school very early for various reasons this morning only to find out that I had a snow day. I  easily could have traveled back home to the comfort of my house and crawled back into my pajamas. But instead, I stayed at school.

It was calm and quiet and a familiar place. It's a place that I know I can get work done. And work is what I got done. 

For the next six hours I copied, corrected, and planned. I checked things off my to do list and appreciated the huge block of time to work with no interruptions or places to be. 

It was completely unexpected but very much appreciated because tonight I feel calm. 

And caught up. 

Even if it is only for a little while. 

Lists

I love lists for the sole purpose of crossing things off of them. I just made one. For the third time this evening. I didn't like the paper that I had my other two on. And I kept thinking about what I had to do. So my list became longer. I sometimes think I make lists to avoid doing things that need to get done. Currently, I have 12 things that are on my list. They aren't urgent but things I would like to accomplish before Monday morning. Then there are things I should put on my list that I don't. These are things that need to get done by tomorrow morning such as my pile of never ending papers that are waiting to be corrected or the sub plans that I have to write. But somewhere in there I need to sleep. So maybe I will put that on my list. And it will be the first thing I do. Then when I wake up, I can cross it off and feel like I did something.

Slice of Life in the Classroom

A few days ago I wrote about the Slice of Life Classroom Challenge that I have going on in all of my writing classes. Each morning the students check in with me, show me their writing, and tell me about it if they want. Today's post is one of my student's entries. I loved the beginning line so much that I asked her if I could share it on my blog. She happily agreed.

The Ringlet

I only fine this story fitting for today as it was about my mother. She has been on my mind lately, so I thought I would share it.

When I was younger, three years old to be exact, I had Shirley Temple curls. These were long, black curls that when stretched made it all the way down my back. But when you let it go, boing, up they sprang where they settled on my shoulders. They are named after a young actress from the 1950’s named Shirley Temple. I remember loving those natural curls but my mother, not so much.

I was probably three and a half when she took the scissors to them because she could no longer get a hairbrush through my hair without an all out crying battle with me. At the time, I didn’t understand why she was doing this, but now that I have kids of my own, I totally get it.

My mother cut those curls off herself using the scissors from our medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I sat in a wood chair staring at the 1970’s black and white tile floor as tears flowed from my eyes like a river from too many days of rain. One after another. The huge ringlets fell to the ground with each snip, snip, snip. More ringlets.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

Until. The. Very. Last. One.

As the tears rolled down my face, I remember wondering am I bald? I was devastated. I was a puddle that no kid likes to jump in. I refused to look in the small, handheld mirror when my mother handed it to me. I sat there with my lip perfectly pouting that someone might have tripped over it.

“Now Elana,” my mother said. “This is no way to act.”

“I WANT MY HAIR BACK!” I screamed.

She new better than to argue with a three year old spit fire. I ran out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the comfort of my white blankie that was thrown on the black couch.

I moped around for a little bit until my little sister, Heather, teetered and tottered in the room saying, “Lana. Play dolls.” After that, I forgot all about my haircut and went back to being my three year old self.

The funny thing is though, my mother must have been upset about giving me that haircut as much as I was to receive it because in my memory box I have a blue hard plastic container. And in that container, is the first ringlet that she had ever cut off.

Twenty

I was inspired by a post I read yesterday to write this one today. The idea is that you write a number of things about yourself for how many years you have been a part of The Slice of Life Challenge. Instead of writing about me, I chose to write about my mother. And I am going to write 20 things about her because this June will be 20 years without her. 

1. My mother was extremely independent. Rumor has it she asked my dad to marry her!

2. My mother was a social worker, teacher, lawyer and business owner. 

3. My mother went through law school when I was in second grade. I still remember her studying for the bar examine one night while she was helping me with homework. 

4. My mother always saw the good in people. 

5. My mother was extremely generous. She liked to donate her time and resources to the less fortunate. 

6. My mother raised my sisters and I to ALWAYS send thank you notes anytime anyone gave you a gift. 

7. My mother loved to travel. She went to Europe when she was 18 and often took us on trips with my father up and down the east coast. 

8. My mother introduced me to the love of the outdoors. My family and I went camping every summer from the time I was two until I was a junior in high school. 

9. My mother loved her grandchildren. Although she was only alive to meet two of them, she would have soaked up the seven that came after her death. 

10. My mother married my father in August of 1968 and passed away a month and some change from their 30th wedding anniversary. 

11. My mother was thoughtful. When she knew she wasn't going to make it to Christmas, she had purchased gifts for my sisters and me that would be placed under the tree to let us know that she was thinking of us. 

12. My mother was one of the instrumental founders of the lacrosse team at my high school. I think she would be happy to know that this year I am helping to coach my daughters' lacrosse team. 

13. My mother always went out of her way to make our birthdays feel special. 

14. My mother worked. I don't remember her not working. Even when she became sick. 

15. My mother was very proud of her children. All three of us couldn't be more different from one another, but we each have a unique  part of her in our personalities. 

16. My mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer my senior year of college. 

17. My mother fought a long battle. Long enough to see me through my first year of teaching. 

18. My mother died in June of 1998. She told my father she was ready to go with her mother, father, and sister, Sally, who were apparently in the room waiting for her.  They had all preceded her in death. To this day I find comfort in knowing she wasn't alone. 

19.  My mother left my sisters and I a little sheet of paper with a phrase of how she saw the each of us. It was given to us after she passed away. It is the one thing I cherish from her. 

20. My mother was amazing, and I hope that I grow to be half the person that she was. 

Grill House

It didn't matter that it was 38 degrees outside and snow was still stuck to the lawn. My nine year old daughter had this idea that she would have her own restaurant tonight. And outdoor seating was the only option. Yes, I said that correctly. 

Outside. 

Where it is cold. 

Where the snow hangs on for another day. 

But, she created a menu, set the table, and helped with the preparation as much as she could. 

It was a lovely night. Not one I would have planned but that is what made it great. 

As we ate, we noticed the stars starting to dot the city sky as the sun went to bed. 

We noticed the calmness around as the trees didn't feel like moving. 

And we noticed the cold. The one that found its way to our bones after we had finished eating. 

So with a polite thank you for her service, we went inside and had dessert, the one she picked out. 

It's moments like these that remind me to slow down a little and enjoy life. 

Our waitress for the evening

Twenty-Eight

I teach writing to about 90 fifth graders in a small rural town in Michigan. For weeks I was trying to figure out how I was going to do the Slice of Life Challenge with all of them without driving myself crazy with the organization aspect of it. Last year, I had my first successful run with the challenge both personally and with my homeroom, and I knew I wanted to incorporate it again this year. So I opened it up to all fifth graders with an informational meeting on Wednesday during their lunch to learn more about it and to pick up a Slice of Life journal. I honestly didn't expect many. My Tuesday writing club has dwindled down to about eight kids, and I thought that was about as many as I would get.

Was I wrong.

Yesterday at 11:30 a few kids strolled in with their lunches and they didn't stop for the next six minutes.  One after another they entered the room, signed in, grabbed a journal and ate. I talked about the challenge, what it would look like at fifth grade, and showed them some of my slices from last year. Then the questions came and before you knew it, it was time for our afternoon schedule.

Fast forward to this morning. One girl came into my room and said, "Mrs. Waugh. I just wanted to double check that it was okay that I wrote my slice before school. I had this crazy dream last night and I woke up and just couldn't stop thinking about it."

Now move on to recess. "Mrs. Waugh, I've been trying to notice things like you do before you get an idea to write. I have too many ideas from today and it is not even over yet. I am not sure what I am going to choose."

And near the end of the day. "Whatever has been bothering you during our entire reading block, go home and write about it for your slice today. I can tell you need to get your thoughts out by the expression on your face. It hasn't changed in the last 45 minutes."

In all, I have 28 students up for the challenge. And I think all 28 will follow through. The thing I am looking forward to the most is hearing their stories when they check in with me each morning.

And maybe, one of them will give me a really good one to write about.