Welcome to the World of Slicing Slicers!

This post is to the brave student writers undertaking this slicing thing we teachers are so excited about. We are so excited to have you join us in this challenge and have the highest of hopes for you and your writing selves.

We hope:

  • You will broaden your writing self and really start to look at the world around you like a writer.
  • You will know that you are a writer because you have something to say. Lots to say.
  • That you will use your new writer’s eyes and notice so many new discoveries that you can write about.
  • You will grow in your craft and be inspired to try new things in your writing.
  • That you will LOVE writing more than you do now.
  • Your room will become an even “tighter” writing community and that you will really care about your fellow writers.
  • That you will feel safe to share your writing with those around you.
  • You will know the joy of having other writers comment on the great things you did as a writer.
  • You will look at other writers’ writing and have comments flow freely to boost their writing self.

It is going to be so much fun slicing with all of you!

So…
3rd Graders

Rock this out and be the awesome writers we know that you are!

Happy Slicing!

 

 

Won’t You Come Back?

If I could bring you back to visit, just for a day, what would I need to show you? Where would we need to go? We’d have so much to talk about. Would we start with us three? So much time to cover, more than ten years. Could we get out all we needed you to know? You already know I bet. You’ve been there even if you haven’t.

Your little girls are big girls and there are five more for you to meet. You’d be so proud to see them. I know you know that they shine. But to see them, talk to them, hold them. I know how much you’d love that. I know how much they would. They know of you and talk to you. I think you talk back sometimes. The little smiles and whispers that hit those moments tell me so.

I might decide to be selfish and keep you to ourselves. To watch you with your littlest. You’d tower over her and she’d climb right up to nestle in your arms. She’d probably make you play with some Barbies and I know you’d love every second of it.  She’ll want you to stay, and it’ll be hard to explain to her little heart why that can’t be so. But it’ll be worth it. You’ll make that hole she has missing you a little smaller in just that one day.

I know you’ll have places to see and almost all of them remain unchanged. You can go on your own, but we’d love to come with. There are so many things we could ask so that we see what you’ve always seen but not expressed whenever we are in those places.

I know you’ll need to see her. I’m not sure she’s ready so you’ll need to put that gentle giantness away for a bit and be bossy. You remember how to do that? She’s been so tough and we’ve needed her so. But boy does she miss you. You can make her heart whole again for a little while.

So on second thought, you’re just going to have to stay. It’s been a long time and we need you. I’m sure you’ve got some pull. We’re having a harder and harder time hearing your voice and you remember how loud you were? That’s just not right.

You’re so far away. Come a little closer. Just for a day.  Or you know, forever.

The joy of creating

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I’ve heard many a time that if you give a young writer tools, they will create. That they have an internal drive to do so in fact. So I have created a most wonderful writing studio for Maddie. I dare say that if Eric Litwin, her favorite author of late, could squeeze into that toddler sized chair he would create some amazing literature. It’s that good.

Maddie has taken to her studio in the way a most eclectic and orderly warring soul should. She creates in a frenzy- drawing, coloring, stickering, stamping, folding, writing,  taping, and enveloping her way to creative nirvana. In her wake she leaves a disaster of broken crayons, discarded attempts at drawings, sticker backs, ink smudges, and tape bits. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Delivered to my lap, taped to my wall, stuck in my bag. These creations are what bring a smile to my face. She has a message that one. Whether it’s a picture of mommy with x’s all around because she’s mad at me, a page of hearts with the biggest heart at the end because she just loves me SO much, or a picture of Santa hung on the wall so in case we wake up and see him, we’ll know who he is. Creating is definitely a message carrier for her.

The mommy in me loves it more than I can say. The educator in me is wondering when the words and sentences will follow. She has all the tools. She is prepared. She knows letters and sounds go together to make those things we call words. We tell stories. We draw stories. We know that words carry a message. She just doesn’t care to use that knowledge yet.

Until today.

I know you will all tell me that a young writer will use all that knowledge and be ready to unleash it on the world when they are ready. We are here to nudge and help them discover the wonderful stories they hold within. blah blah blah.

I have the real answer: give that young writer all the requisite tools and then hand her a stapler. Oh, the joy. That stapler is the peanut butter to her jelly, the mac to her cheese, the ying to her yang, the muse to her writer self. She has created no less than four books in the last thirty minutes. There are pictures, there are letters, there’s even a word or two.

All it took was a stapler.

😉

Story of a House

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Water
What do we do?
Mop it up, sham wow it up, dry vac it up

Rinse and repeat
Finally repaired

Dry
So nice

What’s that?

Cold
What do we do?
bundle, cuddle, and wrap
The windows, the pipes, the doors, and us

Finally find the spark

Warm
So cozy

Now what?

Mold
What do we do?

Test, pace, remediate, and insulate

Clean and clear at last
So healthy

What’s next?

Smell
What do we do NOW?

Give in?
Burn it down?
(I kid, I kid)

No options

So I light good scents, conserve water
And wait for the experts to fix us yet again

When will it end?

Words vs. Numbers

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The Slice of Life Writing Challenge is hosted by The Two Writing Teachers blog. Join us at:
www.twowritingteachers.wordpress.com

 

Words
are malleable,
are controllable,
are ever remembering,
but forgiving…

Live, speak,
write, share
again and again

They offer no solace now.
For I am stuck in a number…

Frustrated,
Defeated,
Broken.

By contrast, this number
is rigid,
is uncontrollable,
is ever remembering,
and always unforgiving.

Just out of reach
is my heart’s desire.

Waiting…
on a number

 

*** I’m a wordy writer I have been told. As I gear up for the slice of life writing challenge, this is my attempt at taking a topic I could write long and loud about and trying to be concise with my words. To wrap up my feelings of discontent in a few instead of many. And there I go, being wordy. 🙂 ***