Courage Doesn't Always Roar: A Teacher's Quest to Be Better Each Day

Goodbye to you, March Challenge. Goodbye early morning wake-ups, adjusting workout routines (or skipping them) to make more time for blogging. Goodbye trying to find the words and delicately balancing what my heart needs to write and what my brain thinks I should publish. Goodbye to you, fellow bloggers. Your stories touched my heart. Your words made me think. Your passion for teaching inspired me to be better. I'm sorry I didn't get to read more, comment more, but what I read was glorious. Our country will be saved by teachers like you, I'm sure of it.  We will meet again,  on Tuesdays. And we will meet again, when next March comes.  Till then... "Who can say if I've been changed for the better? Because I knew you, because I knew you, I have been changed for good." -from "Wicked"

How is it almost April? Time seems to have stopped somewhere in mid-January when our lives changed with a phone call. While I was just starting to come up for air, a second surgery dominated the Winter Break. A month has gone by, and now we are closing out March.  Spring. Today is Good Friday. As a Catholic, although a somewhat lapsed one, today is the day where evil seems to win. A dark day, a sad day. A day where a friend betrays you and hope dies. The beauty of Easter Sunday is that hope never dies, that evil never wins, that good triumphs and redemption is possible.  I need Easter more than ever this year. I am tired of the greedy and selfish dominating the headlines. I am tried of school shooters. I am tired of Russia and collusion and doctor's appointments and guilt and sadness and fear and worry and wishing with everything in my heart that I could redo a certain day in January.  I have been trying to be strong and most days I am. I know many have more...

I always advise my student writers, "Show- don't tell." So I could tell you about my mother, but maybe this example will show you what you need to know. On a particular day last year, I drove to my parent's house to pick up my children after work. My mom comes to my house every morning by 7:15 to help get the kids ready for school. Later, she picks up Megan at preschool and an hour later picks up Alex from his school. She watches them until I get home from work, which some days is later than I should.  I walked in to find Megan wearing a tissue paper hula skirt, twirling around. But what's more, all of the many dolls she brought, including her stuffed animal dog Star, were sporting the same mini-versions of the pink tissue paper hula skirts. My mom was wearing her reading glasses, deep in the work of creating another hula skirt for another doll. It was a scene I will never forget. What can you infer about my mom from this example? Would you conclude she is...

Last night's Facebook wishes reminded me of a Slice I could write! It was my friend Linda's birthday and on her wall I posted:"Happy Birthday to the Co-President of the Shiny Time Cleaning Club".  In elementary school, Linda and I were best friends. We would often have play dates at each other's houses, where we would play Uno and "bet" with Skittles, play school, plan holiday concerts (another post for sure!) and work on our business- The Shiny Time Cleaning Club.  We had a real receipt pad for this business and we served as Co-Presidents. The Shiny Time Cleaning Club would do chores for money. Laundry folding was fifty cents. Unloading the dishwasher was 25 cents. Everything was quite reasonable and we felt very grown-up and business-like doing these chores.  What I wouldn't given now to pay someone to do my laundry, dishes and more each day! Maybe it's time to tell my children about the Shiny Time Cleaning Club and see if they want to ...

I've made it to March 27th before needing to write the "I am stuck" post. The "I am blank this morning but I showed up and got it done" post. I've sat here, writing and deleting, looking around the room for inspiration, looking into my heart for what to say. Some words are not meant for publishing right now. What else feels worthy to write about?  The clock ticks and takes me closer to the time I need to shower and begin the day. A work bag filled was barely opened. Fluency cards I thought I'd hole punch and put on rings remain exactly where they were when I dropped them on the floor yesterday afternoon. So. Much. To. Do. Never. Enough. Time.  Breathe.  Type. I'll be looking for inspiration today so tomorrow I'll have a story to tell. Have you easily found topics for posts or found yourself stuck too? 

Growing up, I didn't even know what the Internet was until the end of high school. My childhood and teenage years were all pre-Facebook and social media. In my mid-twenties, I joined Facebook and now use social media regularly. It just seems natural to post photos of my celebrations and funny things my kids say and do.  However, I do know that Facebook posts often just showcase the shiny, clean part of one's reality. A person's life is nuanced and, as the saying goes, into every life a little rain must fall. We all have our pain and challenges, though you might not know it by scrolling through Facebook. One hashtag really annoys me. #Blessed. It just feels so arrogant to me. As if God has selected you out of everyone to make your life pain-free and joyful. As if those who have sick children, crummy spouses, addiction, debt, diseases, and more are not in the #Blessed club. (Sucks for them!) I'm all for gratitude. I'm all for appreciating the happy things in y...

Today my Grandma would be 92. She passed away at 89, just 3 months before her 90th birthday. Having a Grandma as a constant, loving, joyful presence in my life for over 35 years is one of the most precious gifts I've ever been given.  Grandma and Grandy's house was like a second home growing up. I can close my eyes and see every part of it. I can remember being in the kitchen while Grandma cooked and sipping a cup of tea together in the dining room with always a sweet treat to accompany it. I remember the den upstairs, where she would sit in her cozy rocker and I would often lay on the couch and fall asleep after a long day of teaching. In my single, child-free days, Grandma and I had a Wednesday dinner standing date. I would show up and she would cook for me! We would watch Seinfeld reruns, or Rachael Ray's 30 Minute Meals, and game shows like Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. I remember the porch, where we would sit and watch the cars passing by.  Grandma was there for...

A trip to Target New pocketbook and sunglasses My soul is restored.   My red pocketbook was jaunty and hopeful in September. My red pocketbook took me through the holidays. My red pocketbook accompanied me during scary and uncertain times. My red pocketbook carried file folder of medical papers and held books and toys to entertain my son while we waiting for procedures. My red pocketbook led me from one season of my life to another.  I'm ready to put my red pocketbook away. Today I bought a new pocketbook with spring flowers. Time to look towards the sunshine.  (I bought sunglasses too, because it's going to be sunshiney from here on out. Got it, Life?) 

When I was younger,  I never knew my reading level. Didn't know there were books I wasn't allowed to read. I loved to read and so I did every chance I got.  I would peruse the library An open invitation to choose  anything I wanted. Books were my friends And each one  a possibility. I found series books. Cam Jansen, Ramona, Polk Street School , Bunnicula. Then later Sweet Valley High Babysitters Club The Fabulous Five. I read all the time. No one asked me to jot on a post-it. No one asked me to summarize  in my notebook. No one asked me to pick a book at my level. Somehow, someway, I still understood the books I read enough to want to keep reading.  In school we read whole class novels I hated. Where the Red Fern Grows. Island of the Blue Dolphins Books I did not enjoy. "When can I go back to my own book?" I thought. The school books were always sad And my books made me happy. I didn't want to rea...

Two unexpected snow days, despite the calendar saying Spring has arrived. Two days lost of my spring break, now down to only 3 days instead of the 7 we were supposed to have.  Really, I could be negative about this. But sipping a hot, delicious cup of coffee in cozy sweats as mounds of snow pile up outside my window, I am grateful for a relaxed morning. Grateful my mom doesn't have to shovel and drive in this weather, just to come and help me get my kids off to school. I'm grateful they have the day off too- we could play games together, snuggle, and enjoy the gift of an unexpected snow day. When negative thoughts, fears, and anxiety weigh me down, the only thing that lifts the sadness is gratitude. Seeing the blessings. Noticing the silver lining to the clouds, the rose that is there through the thicket of thorns.  So cheers to this snow day- may it be the last of this year!