- I am disappointed that I didn't manage to write for everyday of the challenge but found great pleasure in writing when I did.
- I need to put time aside to write the stories that are still on my "to write" list.
- I am so proud of my students' SOL writing and am excited to delve into poetry with them.
- Time with family and friends is life's great joy.
- Procrastination and lack of sleep are life's great menaces.
- Reading for five minutes before bed is incredibly calming and fulfilling.
- The cold viruses this season have been brutal.
- 65 degrees is a difficult temperature to dress for.
- Regular pedicures are worth the time and money.
- Hot chocolate makes for a great morning pick-me-up.
- Seven year olds are very complex people.
- Good conversations with students makes for happy hearts.
- A teary first grader is heartbreaking every time.
- Windy days make children crazy.
- Rainy days makes children both wild and sleepy.
- I spend far too long writing and rewriting emails.
- I need a better system for keeping track of my calendar.
- Dining out on a school night makes the week go faster.
- Some weeks are just really long...
- There is nothing better than a cuddle with my daughter after a day at work.
- "Mama-mama" phases are not easy on Daddy.
- Toddlers with good manners are beyond adorable.
- Day care teachers who teach toddlers to have good manners are beyond invaluable.
- Apparently Old Macdonald now has elephants and lions living on his farm.
- I am very lucky to have such a domestic husband. (Don't tell him I said that.)
- Living far away from my parents and sister is hard.
- I need to take more photos and videos to document life.
- Hooray, it's Friday!
- I never ended up going for a run this month.
- There is never enough time.
- I can't believe it is April tomorrow.
Friday, March 31, 2017
31 Reflections for 31 Days
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Monday, March 27, 2017
Thursday, March 23, 2017
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Monday, March 20, 2017
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Bad Hair Day
In our guided reading book room, there is a little corner on a low shelf dedicated to bad hair days. Two stacks of books sit side by side, both containing stories about little girls who have terrible haircuts. In one of these stories, it is in fact the girl's mother who is to blame for the botched trim, and she ends up being rescued by a hairdresser and a trendy bob.
No such luck for my daughter.
Last night I got scissor happy during bath time. My daughter was contentedly playing with her fish shaped stacking cups, wispy bangs trailing in her eyes. How hard can it be, I thought to myself. I recently saw a clip of a girl cutting her own bangs - a little twist, a snip, and voila! Cute, effortless style.
So in I went: twist, snip. And now I my baby girl has the same haircut as a Franciscan monk. Definitely effortless, thankfully she's still adorable, but seriously lacking in the style department. Sadly she won't get the storybook happy ending; there is simply not enough hair on the rest of her head to salvage what I have done. Every time I look at her I feel equal parts guilt and the desire to giggle uncontrollably. My husband is thoroughly enjoying using my failure against me.
But here are some lessons learned from this experience:
1. A twenty year old model cutting her own hair is not the same as you cutting your baby's.
2. When it comes to hair cutting, less is more.
3. These things are probably best left to professionals.
4. Hats on babies are always a good idea.
5. Hair grows (I hope...)
But here are some lessons learned from this experience:
1. A twenty year old model cutting her own hair is not the same as you cutting your baby's.
2. When it comes to hair cutting, less is more.
3. These things are probably best left to professionals.
4. Hats on babies are always a good idea.
5. Hair grows (I hope...)
Friday, March 10, 2017
Massage Musings...
I feel super awkward and naked right now.
Is my neck supposed to be scrunched like this?
I am really into this panpipes relaxation music.
Would it be weird to listen to spa music not at a spa?
Ooh the masseuse has lovely warm hands.
My circulation is really bad.
I can't wait for her to start working on my back.
That is weird that my right foot is tight.
I suppose the tension in my right shoulder is spreading downwards?
This feels like it's lasting a lot longer than twenty minutes.
OH MY GOD that feels good.
Ow, but that is a sore spot.
I hope everything is okay at day care.
What if there's an emergency and I don't pick up because I'm here.
Why would there be an emergency?
I don't usually check my phone during the day anyway.
But what if...
Oh wow, I really need to do this more often.
I wish I could remember this lady's name.
I have definitely been here for a lot longer than twenty minutes.
Oh no, she's stopping!
Hmm, feeling awkwardly naked again.
Is my neck supposed to be scrunched like this?
Mmm this blanket is really cozy.
I am really into this panpipes relaxation music.
Would it be weird to listen to spa music not at a spa?
Ooh the masseuse has lovely warm hands.
My circulation is really bad.
I can't wait for her to start working on my back.
That is weird that my right foot is tight.
I suppose the tension in my right shoulder is spreading downwards?
This feels like it's lasting a lot longer than twenty minutes.
OH MY GOD that feels good.
Ow, but that is a sore spot.
I hope everything is okay at day care.
What if there's an emergency and I don't pick up because I'm here.
Why would there be an emergency?
I don't usually check my phone during the day anyway.
But what if...
Oh wow, I really need to do this more often.
I wish I could remember this lady's name.
I have definitely been here for a lot longer than twenty minutes.
Oh no, she's stopping!
Hmm, feeling awkwardly naked again.
Thursday, March 9, 2017
The Sun Is On My Face
Feet up on the porch railing,
Wicker chairs creak
with each laugh or sigh.
Words gushing in torrents,
And moments of still,
The ebb and flow of news and memories.
The sun is on my face,
A friend is at my side,
The world slows down
for just a little while.
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
Mild rantings from a quiet feminist
On this International Women's Day I wish I could say that I went out and stood up for equality and justice. Instead I spent the day doing laundry, grocery shopping, baking and trying to coax my daughter into eating her veggies. Not a list for the feminist books.
I don't think of myself as a particularly political person, but coming from the UK there are policies in this country that confound me; health care and maternity leave to name two that I have been personally affected by. And as I listened to NPR while driving between errands, I felt proud that there are so many women out there fighting to make the US a more progressive place. I also felt exasperated that we aren't there yet.
I am not here to make controversial statements or start a debate, so I will keep my list of political grievances to myself. But I am a woman and these issues are true for me. So while I didn't physically take a stand today, I am adding my voice to the chorus: women's rights are human rights.
I don't think of myself as a particularly political person, but coming from the UK there are policies in this country that confound me; health care and maternity leave to name two that I have been personally affected by. And as I listened to NPR while driving between errands, I felt proud that there are so many women out there fighting to make the US a more progressive place. I also felt exasperated that we aren't there yet.
I am not here to make controversial statements or start a debate, so I will keep my list of political grievances to myself. But I am a woman and these issues are true for me. So while I didn't physically take a stand today, I am adding my voice to the chorus: women's rights are human rights.
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
"I am thankful for social media"
Every year my school friends and I celebrate the Christmas season together. We gather at one of our houses, exchange gifts, eat great food, partake in too much prosecco, and catch up on what has been going on since the last time we were all together. A few years ago, we decided to adopt a Thanksgiving tradition and go around the table at dinner and say what we were thankful for. There was an uproarious laugh and much mocking when one of my friends earnestly said, "I am thankful for social media." But once we gave her a chance to explain herself, we realized that this statement rang true for all of us.
One of our group lives in Denmark and couldn't join us that year: she had just FaceTimed in and announced that she was pregnant. Instagram gives us regular snapshots into each other's lives: the travel pictures, the baby pictures, the birthday parties, the sweaty gym selfies. We have a What'sApp group where we share news, celebrate, commiserate, vent, or just tell a story that we know nobody else will appreciate.
Today I am thankful for social media. What'sApp allowed my friend to share a picture of her son taking his first bath (same friend, new baby!) Instagram showed me that another friend had a lovely picnic lunch in sunny Cambridge. And FaceTime allowed my husband to sing "row row row" to our daughter from hundreds of miles away.
One of our group lives in Denmark and couldn't join us that year: she had just FaceTimed in and announced that she was pregnant. Instagram gives us regular snapshots into each other's lives: the travel pictures, the baby pictures, the birthday parties, the sweaty gym selfies. We have a What'sApp group where we share news, celebrate, commiserate, vent, or just tell a story that we know nobody else will appreciate.
Today I am thankful for social media. What'sApp allowed my friend to share a picture of her son taking his first bath (same friend, new baby!) Instagram showed me that another friend had a lovely picnic lunch in sunny Cambridge. And FaceTime allowed my husband to sing "row row row" to our daughter from hundreds of miles away.
Monday, March 6, 2017
And so to bed...
I am a serial procrastinator and never get to bed when I aim to. While I am finding great joy in the act of writing every day, writing time is also eating into my much craved sleeping time. With a toddler who wakes at 6 a.m. (and last night also performed an hour and a half long melodrama at 3) this tired mama is headed to bed. Tonight's slice is a hope for sleep. Let tomorrow bring fresh ideas and better time management.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
The perfect date
Two sweethearts went on a wagon ride.
He poked her belly, she giggled and squealed.
He held his hands out to the neighbor's cat, she meowed to call it over.
He gave her a bashful smile, she blew raspberries.
He pointed to the sky, she said, "Moon!"
He poked her belly, she giggled and squealed.
He held his hands out to the neighbor's cat, she meowed to call it over.
He gave her a bashful smile, she blew raspberries.
He pointed to the sky, she said, "Moon!"
He clapped, she clapped.
Then they blew each other a kiss to say goodnight.
Saturday, March 4, 2017
Professional Dog Torturer
My sister just adopted a dog.
Growing up we lived in a pet-free house because my father is very allergic to all furry friends. My mother, on the other hand, comes from a family of fanatical dog owners. Playing with our relatives' dogs was always a highlight of visiting them; however, as non dog owners we were not always savvy to the dos and don'ts of dog handling. My sister seemed particularly adept at doing things that were both irritating to the dogs and hilarious to everyone else. Our cousin coined her "the professional dog torturer," and the name stuck around for several years.
And now she has a dog. William is doted on like a baby, and could not be more loved. She took him in after a friend of her's bought him for $35 from a man on a street in Brooklyn. They spent several weeks trying to find his original owners, assuming that he had been stolen, but nobody came forward to claim him. She couldn't be happier to keep him.
But the dog torturer in her still remains. Poking, contorting, dressing up, any and all opportunities for an entertaining photo... Fortunately, he is the most mellow, tolerant dog you will ever encounter; William appears to relish in her particular brand of torture. Today, for example, not only did he manage a turn on the slide with great aplomb, but he actually seemed to enjoy his bout in the swing. He is her dog soulmate. How lucky they are to have found each other.
Friday, March 3, 2017
Hinamatsuri
Today is Girls' Day in Japan. In celebration, families display beautifully crafted wooden dolls that represent the Emperor and Empress, and their attendants. Last week I dutifully arranged the set of dolls that my mother passed down to me a few years ago. Superstition says that if you leave the dolls out after the festival has ended then your daughters will become old maids. Apparently it is a miracle I am married. The years my mother actually remembered to put out the dolls, they rarely made it back into their boxes before April. She insists that "Kansai people" keep their dolls out for an extra month. This seems like a rather convenient excuse.
I remember being mesmerized by the little figures as a child, longing to be able to play with them. They were, and are, just so satisfyingly small. It occurs to me that I really have no sense of the origins of the Hinamatsuri festival or how one is supposed to celebrate beyond admiring the dolls, but perhaps the pleasure of watching those perfect little figures stand proud for a few weeks is enough.
I should really put them away tomorrow to protect my daughter from a marriage-less fate. But then, aren't I a Kansai person too?
Thursday, March 2, 2017
A cup of tea
For numerous reasons, the last month has been a grueling one. And when life gets tough, the answer is tea. Not the flowery herbal kind or the cold-busting-sleep-aiding-mind-cleansing concoctions that seem to be the fashion here in the US, but a good old fashioned cup of English tea. With milk. And a biscuit.
There are many things that I miss about the school in London where I first taught, but recently tea has topped the list. The staff room kitchen cupboards were stacked full of boxes of tea bags, and at every break or after school meeting one of our small congregation of faculty members would take the tea orders and set to work with the heavily scaled electric kettle. Then we would sit around on scratchy bright blue couches, blowing on the steam from our matching yellow school logoed mugs, and enjoy a brief pause from our hectic day. Reviving, restorative, rejuvenating. You just can't beat a proper cup of tea.
There are many things that I miss about the school in London where I first taught, but recently tea has topped the list. The staff room kitchen cupboards were stacked full of boxes of tea bags, and at every break or after school meeting one of our small congregation of faculty members would take the tea orders and set to work with the heavily scaled electric kettle. Then we would sit around on scratchy bright blue couches, blowing on the steam from our matching yellow school logoed mugs, and enjoy a brief pause from our hectic day. Reviving, restorative, rejuvenating. You just can't beat a proper cup of tea.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Sweat and Blossom
As the season warms and the first pink buds appear on trees around town, I find myself longing for the sensation of feet pounding against pavement. This is the time of year when I emerge from exercise hibernation and reclaim my running clothes from a neglected bottom drawer. Driving down my street towards home at the end of the day, I am reminded of huffing and puffing in the opposite direction, just three years ago...
Legs cramping, heart thundering, and mind focused entirely on the act of forcing air in and out of my lungs, I reached the top of River Road. My trusty running partner, who at this point was my partner in pain, remained by my side. We gasped a collective sigh of relief and victory. One mile to go. No more hills. And as I wiped the steady stream of sweat from my forehead and began to drag my feet, one step at a time, down the road ahead, I became aware of how perfect the morning was. A street lined with blossom trees lay ahead of us, the bright March sun illuminated the scene, and a cool spring breeze brought it gently to life. We began to regain our pace, and I felt the previous 12 miles slip away as I embraced the simple pleasure of running with my friend down a street that I love.
-----
My running shoes have been in retirement for the last two years but I plan to dust them off and get back on the pavement this month. I hope this post will hold me accountable!
Legs cramping, heart thundering, and mind focused entirely on the act of forcing air in and out of my lungs, I reached the top of River Road. My trusty running partner, who at this point was my partner in pain, remained by my side. We gasped a collective sigh of relief and victory. One mile to go. No more hills. And as I wiped the steady stream of sweat from my forehead and began to drag my feet, one step at a time, down the road ahead, I became aware of how perfect the morning was. A street lined with blossom trees lay ahead of us, the bright March sun illuminated the scene, and a cool spring breeze brought it gently to life. We began to regain our pace, and I felt the previous 12 miles slip away as I embraced the simple pleasure of running with my friend down a street that I love.
-----
My running shoes have been in retirement for the last two years but I plan to dust them off and get back on the pavement this month. I hope this post will hold me accountable!
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