Give me an inch and I’ll take a yard. On Saturday I posted early in the morning, for a west coaster. I figured I had until Sunday afternoon to post again but then…LIFE!
My friends invited me to a yoga class and coffee chat. How could I pass that up?
When I got home my husband had dinner a-cooking and said my newly married daughter and her hubby were coming over as well as our newly moved out youngest child. Sweet! A family dinner party.
A delicious dinner of veggie burgers, salad and fruit followed with fresh chocolate chip cookies from the son-in-law for dessert. We had the Jeopardy championship games to still watch so we all settled in for some good fun.
Which brings me to this morning when I realized I never posted yesterday. It completely slipped my mind. I’ve heard it takes two weeks to learn a new habit. I guess I’ll start counting my days again.
Little Miss Matilda
Eyes wide open
Little button nose
Smiles and giggles galore
Drinking the world in
My heart held fast in her tiny hand.
There is absolutely nothing better than a Friday afternoon before a 3 day weekend, am I right? And…the deliciously delightful part about the day off is no one else in my family has it off! It’s labeled a “local holiday” by my district (I think someone on the district calendar committee was very smart when they looked at the Daylight Savings Time “spring forward” date!)
I know I probably sound like a heel but it just sounds so wonderful to me to have the entire house to myself for a whole day! What ever will I do?
Maybe I’ll even post my slice in the morning?!
We have a “buddy” program in place at our school. A younger class is partnered with an older class and we meet once or twice a month to read, do an art project or share a special day. My kindergarteners absolutely ADORE their big buddies and the big buddies are very caring and tender to the little kiddos. The big deal every year, is when each buddy partnership puts on an assembly for the rest of the school.
Years ago, the assemblies began ballooning to huge 45 minute affairs with costumes, scenery, music, the works! With increasing curriculum demands, however, and a growing school population, the buddy assemblies have evolved. At one point, several years ago, there was discussion at a staff meeting to put an end to the assemblies. Thankfully, in my opinion, we all agreed to modify, not delete, the performances.
Tomorrow is my class’ turn to perform with their fourth grade buddies. YIKES! Every year I feel a little nervous about how the poems, songs and stage presence will work out. This year, however, I am feeling VERY nervous. My kiddos this year are super spicy, super excitable and super spacey. And, to add to the mix, our fourth grade buddies have a similar spicy-spacey mix of students. It has been challenging, to say the least, meeting for buddy activities but these last two weeks of preparing for the show have honestly been a bit of a nightmare.
I am counting on the old drama adage, “Bad dress rehearsal = Good performance.” to hold true. We will need all the help, luck and superstitions we can wrangle!
Wish us luck!
Not in a million years, did I think I would end up at an Arthur Murray Dance Studio. A few years ago, however, as my husband and I were walking to the movie theater, we walked past a dance studio and we both commented aloud “That looks like fun!”
Lo and behold, a few weeks later, on Christmas morning, I opened an envelope with a gift certificate for 2 months of dance lessons. It is the gift that keeps on giving!
We have been dancing once a week for the past three years and, as my husband says, “Now, instead of us both having two left feet, we both have two TRAINED left feet!”
Neither of us are very smooth or lyrical in our dance movements. Our diminutive dance instructor patiently models, coaches and cheers us on each week and lately we have started to surprise ourselves when we remember how to do a certain step or which way to go on a turn.
Every Wednesday night, we show up and it has become such a delightful part of our week. And to think it all started with a shared musing on the way the the movies!
L azy day off
A ctively searching for a worthy blog topic
T rying out many different leads
E ventually sat down to watch TV
Our words are so powerful. Words can cut like a knife or heal with love. Taking on this writing challenge has me thinking of the many, many, MANY ways words can heal, hurt, help and give hope.
Today, during a particularly long district meeting with many words spoken and not a lot of heart behind most of them, I thought of a few categories of words.
A baby’s first cooing and sputtering syllables
The tentative, tender forays of a student learning English.
Love poem proclamations of a newly wedded couple
The vehemently, angry roar of a preteen, “I don’t even LIKE your guts!”
“Co-kinderate” whimsically fashioned several years ago by one of my particularly precocious, clever and fellow word-loving kindergarteners.
“Blabberia” a perfectly vivid expression uttered by a child in response to an excessively talkative classmate.
I see you. I hear you.
We can, we are, we will, we must.
How can I help?
I just love words, don’t you?
We received sad news. One of our fifth grade students passed away on Thursday. The death of a child is one of the hardest events to process. He was such a “little old man” kind of student. He came to our school in third grade. He was in my buddy class as a third grader and again last year as a fourth grader. I remember his impish smile. He arrived with little English but he jumped into his American school whole-heartedly. He definitely had a way of getting his message across and making his presence known.
I’ve been thinking of this young person’s life all morning. How devastated his family and friends must feel. How overwhelming, confusing and ANGRY. Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to the world.
During my yoga class this morning my mind wandered as I was supposed to be focusing on my breath. Breath and death, rhyming antonyms, I’d never noticed that before.
I, as I know most of us, go around in my little bubble of a world, assuming tomorrow will come, assuming I will see another sunrise, another sunset, another rainbow. Assuming I will have another chance to interact with a student, another time to listen to a child’s story, another chance to connect.
Sometimes, however, time stops. Breath stops. There is death and it is sad.
I am so done with the
drip, drip, drip,
splish, splash, splooooosh
This wet, wet winter weather is dousing my spirit.
I know we need the rain.
I know I will crave some cool, refreshing drops during a blistering hot summer day
I am so done with the damp, slippery, soggy showers
and flood from our skies.
My son is getting married today! I am excited, thrilled, overjoyed and…a little sad.
I will not be there to hear the vows. I won’t be able to gaze through bubbling tears at the beautiful bride and the handsome groom. I won’t be able to drink in the moment they declare their love for one another from this day forward…
And it will be okay. It is not about me. It is not about my husband or his sisters. It is about their love for one another and their desire to become husband and wife without all the hoopla that often goes along with weddings.
My son is getting married today and although I may not be there to see it or hear it, I know I will feel it in my heart. It is a good day and I plan to dance and sing and celebrate in my soul.