Cars, Rebar, and Other Neighborhood Hazards

I just got back from taking something to a friend's house. She lives about seven or eight blocks away. As I was walking there I realized that this is a dangerous neighborhood! Why? Here's what I encountered.

I saw a small Kia that had gobbled up nine people. Nine. No joke! The driver plus someone in the passenger seat, but also two kids up front. One was on the passenger's lap and one was squatting above the gear shift. The back had three grown ups and two school aged children (whose necks were crooked as their heads were pushed against the ceiling). "Phew!" I thought to myself, as the car was obviously satiated and wouldn't be trying to gobble me up as well!

Next I came across three bars of rebar sticking up, vertically, out of the middle of the sidewalk. Each piece was several inches tall and someone had put large rocks in the midst in hopes that passerbies wouldn't be seriously injured. Being early evening there was still enough light to notice the peril before I was paralyzed.

In the block before my destination there was a car starting out of a building's garage. They were waiting to back onto the street. The building's concierge was on the street to stop traffic, once it had moved enough to create a gap. (Friday night traffic in Hamra is horrible!) The driver had just made eye contact with me as I was about to step behind his car, as he was blocking the sidewalk. I had taken two steps after his looking away when he began to back up into me! I slammed my hand down on his trunk, shaking my head and rolling my eyes as I kept walking.

This is place keeps you on your toes!

A Pool, On My Shirt!

“Mommmmy”

“Mommmmy”

It is faint and has no panic in it, which is why it takes me a moment, as I step out of the shower, to realize my daughter is paging me. It isn’t quite time for her to get up. (Meaning her clock has yet to turn yellow.) I opened her door to find her sitting, quietly, on her bed watching a pool of blood accumulate on her shirt as the stream trickles from her nose.

She had obviously sat, watching for a few minutes before calling me and why not? It actually started with a few sleeve wipes, assuming it was snot. At some point she realized it was red and rather than panic she took the stance of a scientist and observed what was happening. She moved aside the book she was reading, leaned over a bit, and watched the blood drip onto her shirt and collect in a puddle.

Eventually she realized she had taken in what was happening and wasn’t too sure what to do next so she called me, quietly, hesitantly, as she didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening.

We talked about bloody noses and how to pinch your nose and how much blood stains so it really is better to grab a tissue right away.

The clothes were soaked in cold water and then gently scrubbed and tossed in the washer. Her tummy had to be washed as the blood had soaked through the shirt. But learning how to pinch at the bridge of the nose with enough force to staunch the bleeding took quite a bit longer. If you pinch at the end no blood comes out, so that must do it – right?!

Lessons are now learned and the first bloody nose is in the books, but thankfully that is just a figure of speech.

My Mother Loves March

My mother loves March and not just because it is her anniversary. Not because of other family celebrations (anniversary, birthdays), but because she is guaranteed something posted on my blog every, single, day. She is a huge fan of the SOLSC because of the volume it forces me to produce.

Luckily she doesn’t care if it is a story about her grand daughter, a reflection on life as a teacher, insight into life in the Middle East, or talking about books. As long as something is written and waiting in her feed, she is content.

Today I am glad to know that this post is both making her smile and giving me something to write about. I decided that reflecting on her appreciation was a better option than the challenges of an eminent move to a new classroom space, wondering if we are still in winter or starting an early spring, or talking about how much I love to see my students engaged in a project where they are learning from one another as they need support to complete their task.

This is a shout-out across time zones – thanks for reading Mom!

Wordless Wednesday

 

Whose Rule?

Here is my struggle. There is a ‘rule’ about slicing that I am sure I impose on myself. I prefer to write first thing in the morning, when the house is still quiet and before the chaos of the day. If I wait until the chaos subsides I am likely to want to curl up with a book and the next thing I’ll know will be the light of dawn.

So, how do I write a slice for that day when the day hasn’t happened yet? See the dilemma? Like I said, the ‘rule’ is probably of my own making. I know many people slice about something from a day rather than necessarily that day.

Yes, my writing would happen before some of you have even had dinner the day before. Yes, I would then have to wait for it to be midnight in EST to link, but my writing would be completed.

Do I continue to keep my ‘rule’ or just get over it and focus on the writing being a peak into life?

Thoughts?

Spontaneous Conference

For those of you who teach, you understand the hesitation when you see a parent in the hall. Will it simply be a ‘hello’ or will the parent want to turn the chance passing into a spontaneous mini conference? Many times you just don’t know for sure at first glance.

This afternoon, as I headed to pick up my class from recess my daughter’s teacher passed by. I waved in greeting. A few seconds later she was back. “Uh-oh!” I thought, as I knew she was headed for me, for a spontaneous conference.

Realizing I was headed somewhere she asked me to pass by sometime to look at my daughter’s recent on-demand writing. I asked if she could at least give me a hint (who knows when our schedules will coincide with matching preps!) The writing was a narrative piece. We have spoken (OK, I have listened) previously about my daughter not always choosing actual, real life events in her life for personal narratives.

It turns out that this story is interesting with fairies dying and Jesus and God doing something to welcome them and I’m not sure what else. The twist? She titled it, “My Dream”.

True? Who knows.
Sneaky? More likely.
Now, remember she is in kindergarten.
Ugh.

So We Begin

I woke up this morning knowing it is the first of March, but finding it very hard to believe all the same. Today marks the second Sunday of Lent, a month until Easter (and Spring Break!), the week leading up to the Iditarod, March Book Madness, and just over a week until my birthday. All of those things are huge, but even more so is the commencement of the March Slice of Life Challenge, which is probably why most of you are reading this.

There are many of us on this journey together. A month of writing and reading, commenting and bonding the world over. Sometimes our words are brilliant and sometimes we will just be trying to get something down before the stroke of midnight. If you have been on this journey before, welcome back. If it is your first time WELCOME! Know that we all understand the commitment and challenges that come with joining the March SOLSC. We are in this together. For me, it is not just how I grow as I writer that keeps me a 'slicing', but the community of writers who are a part of it.

And so we begin!