Writing My World

She is here. Delayed but here. L was up later than usual so he could see her. A bloody little champion. Too tired to write now. More tomorrow. 

Three years it had been since I've hugged one of my blood relatives. My recollection has it as four Christmases / New Years' ago (2018/2019). I was lucky enough to have an extended stay while I waited for my visa but that had it's own stressors.  Roughly 1000 days since I've seen my big sister in the flesh. And tomorrow I get to hug her neck.  The last time I saw her I didn't have a child and I wasn't married. During these 1000 days she has sent her eldest to boarding school at the top end of the earth. I know it broke her heart a little, and the best we could do was connect via WhatsApp.  I can't wait for my boy to meet his Debbie Debbie Dumpling.  I will be cautiously optimistic until her plane touches down at JFK. Once it does I will soak up every bit of the next 5 days. 

Breathe. I open my eyes to start the day.  Breathe. Watch my son squirm as he does not want to wake.  Breathe. Step into the shower to begin the day with a clean slate.  Breathe. Make breakfast to nourish our bodies.  Breathe. Drop off at Gamma's; hope.for a smooth hand over.  Breathe. Start my day at work.  Breathe. One task down.  Breathe. Physical task to switch mindset before starting next computer task.  Breathe. Connect with people, remember why we donwhatbwe do.  Breathe. To listen with an open mind.  Breathe. Stop to support a friend see the forest through the trees.  Breathe. Check another task off the list. Breathe. Catch an email that had been forgotten. Breathe. Find a solution to a problem.  Breathe. Ask for help.  Breathe. Collect my son from Gamma's.  Breathe. Say more yesses than nos. Breathe. Support his regulation.  Breathe. Dance to music.  Breathe. Wait for Papi. Breathe. Cook dinner....

As we move into the second half of March I wanted to stop and reflect on my Slice of Life Writing Challenge journey so far.  I firstly want to celebrate that I have written and posted something everyday. When I've been tired and have been close to missing a night I've gotten creative; hello haiku poem on being tired.  The challenge has helped me rediscover the writer within me. I've always known it was there. Like a long distance run, I love being there once I'm in the zone, but getting in the zone is hard.  Finding a regular time to write has been helpful. Writing while I lay with my little one while he falls asleep has been key. That is not something I miss, so therefore it has helped me not miss a writing session.  Being metacognitive about what I do as a writer really helps me to think about how I can support children and teachers.  So where to from here? Well I already have my goal for next year. Read and comment on other Slicer's writing. I've read a few t...

The Pixar story telling structure follows the framework:  Once upon a time... Every day ... One day... Because of that... Because of that... Until finally... And ever since then... Below is my attempt at deconstructing the new Pixar movie Turning Red. It was an interesting process to do. I actually started at the end did the bottom two and then came back up to the top to the beginning of the story. I know I have way too many 'Because of this...' statements. This is where I would want to refine my practice. In my mind I wanted to go back and look at the examples of Up and Toy Story to get a sense of how many they used.  I would definitely use this framework with kids. I could even see it being a fun way to do a group story.  Definitely more to be explored here.  Turning Red   Once upon a time there was a girl called Mei Mei, who lived with her mother and father at their temple.  Her job was to honor her parents. She also secretly loves the boy band 4-Town. ...

This is going to be a two part post as I want to practice breaking deconstructing the new Pixar movie Turning Red through the lens of the Pixar Storytelling framework. I've watched the ones on YouTube where they deconstruct how movies like Up and Inside Out follows the formula (I feel these were like modelled writing) now I want to try it out with the new movie not to catch them out but to understand how they use thos formula to great effect. I'm hoping this can help me as I continue to write and support writers in thinking about what makes a great story.  My next step is to go back and review the formula. I'll then think about the story of Turning Red and plug them in where appropriate.  Warning about Part 2 - there will be spoilers. 

I've started watching an Australian TV show from the mid 2000s, which to me was only not that long ago. It's a cop show set in a Sydney neighborhood that has a high Arab population. The protagonists is a cop of Iraqi descent -- an Arab. He's endeavoring to work with his community and not against it like some of the other blatantly racist cops characters.  So as I was watching the second episode today a noticed a pit forming in my stomach. The line that triggered this pit was, "You're either an Arab or a cop." UGH!! This was only made 15 years ago - we knew better at this point, or so I thought. But it got me thinking about what is it that we should representing on TV. Should we be representing the world that is warts and all? Or should we be representing the world that could be as a model for the viewing public.  What impact do the narratives that play out on our screens day in and day out have on the norms and behaviors that take hold in society?  What it doe...

I am so tired. Being a mum is draining.  I love my sweet boy. 

Tell me what you regret and I'll tell you what you value.  This statement from Daniel Pink from his podcast with Brene Brown (ha Pink and Brown) made me pause. Values work is something I've been doing with my life coach. We approached it from narrowing down values and traits from a large list and then narrowing them down a bit more.  Would they be the same if I 'tell' my regrets? Truthfully, I'm nervous about doing this. I worry it'll be like opening the flood gates. I'm scared of what I may discover about myself.  Both Daniel and Brene say that regret has the potential to turn into shame. What helps shame to grow is secrecy, silence, and judgement. Its cryptonite is empathy. I think I may ponder this for a little bit longer, perhaps create a list in a slow burn fashion. I think I'll regret it if I don't. 

What if my sister gets on the plane in 2 weeks?  What if there are no flight delays? What if her plane lands on time?  What if she isn't jetlagged after 32 hours of flights? What if my son is excited to meet his aunty for the first time? What if we go to the zoo together?  What if she takes him to the park?  What if he shows her all the things he likes to climb and play on? What if she reads him books?  What if they develop a wonderful bond before she leaves to see her son?  What if?

I've had a bit of dental work done over the past couple of months. There have been multiple trips to my regular dental surgery, where I've started seeing the new dentist, and a couple of trips to the endodontist, never heard of this term prior to 2 months ago.  I've invariably been the same person over these 2 months bar the time of day and how much sleep I've had. I approach the time in the chair the same way, but I realized today I've walked away feeling completely different about these experiences. The endodontist made a point of telling me what he was about to do and how he was about to do it. He did this prior to coming anywhere near my mouth. I felt calm, informed, and prepared. He encouraged deep breathing as he injected the needle and his general demeanor was calm, caring, and genuine. He wasn't over the top sweet nor was he condescending as I asked questions about what he was doing. I felt he was treating me--the whole me-- not just my tooth. I was rela...

Do random people from your past ever just spring to mind? Today I was proofreading and decided to start at the end. Weird you might think but a teaching partner from early in my career used to proofread her husband's writing and in passing one day she mentioned she started from the back of the book so she was more tuned in to the grammatical features she had been asked to look for. It's helped on more than one occasion.  It got me thinking about all the small unintended tidbits that we pick up from others or they pick up from us. Perhaps the legacy for some is not a grandiose gesture worthy of the history books but smaller tidbits; pebbles we cast off without a thought, that others find in the pocket of their raincoat on a rainy day.  Thank you Paula. I was pleased to find your pebble today. 

While the beginning is interpretative there's a discernable structure to the dance. Before giving the male co-dancer his leave he  feigns disinterest by engaging with the female co-dancer. She gives her line, and he is cued to return to the former for a heartfelt embrace. Making his way back to the remaining dancer, he readies himself for his final pose limbs entwined. 

No idea what to write about today but I'm committed to this challenge. Post something I've written everyday. I laid in bed this morning while my little boy snuggled at my breast wondering what I would write today. Leave it until later in the day, I thought, inspiration will strike you throughout the day. It didn't. I was busy with chores and my child. Perhaps I'll start a list of things I can write about and then randomly pick one on days that I'm stuck. Perhaps I'm censoring my ideas a little too early. Perhaps writing what's in my head will bring my clarity and calmness to my busy mind. Things to ponder. For now I have accomplished my mission for today - to write. Well done me!! 

Crawling up the FDR, heading towards the GWB. We're off to watch our niece perform in good old New Jersey. She's lead in a production about a spelling bee, Not sure if there's singing or if it'll be like TV's Glee. But we know she gonna rock it as she's as talented as can be. 

He wakes up before I do. He makes ginger tea for me. He took our son to work.  He changes our son's nappies often.  He cleans out the cat litter. He washes up the dirty dishes.  He sings to our sweet boy. He get him ready for bed.  He takes out the stinky garbage. He pours himself a smooth whiskey.  He accepts me just for me.  He makes me feel very safe.  He watches his gaming TV shows.  He plays his role playing games.  He truly loves his family, deeply. He is a loyal, loving man.  He is my handsome husband, finally.  I love him so very much. 

Shoes on. Jacket on. I mention a hat and he taps his head. His papi's hat swims on him; he wears it with well though. Once outside, he holds my hand and looks up at me with a smile. Who knew a walk around the block could be so exciting? Out the side gate--we're off. We got as far as the front gate before he detoured to walk up our steps. This was our walk today; stopping at each one of our neighbor's stoops to climb the stairs. Some were bumpy, some sharp. Some were chipped, and some have new railings. All represent an adventure, a mountain to explore.  Stay curious and adventure seeking Sweet Boy. 

"I didn't know I could have a thought this big!" said the 6 year old in the group I was working with. He sat a little taller, eyes widening as he tried to hold back a smile.  This is why I do what I do. Help children realize what they are capable of. Help them connect the dots of learning that often languish in silos.  We had been working on helping the first graders know what they think they can say. A no-brainer to the likes of you and me but not as obvious to the 5 and 6 year olds newly indoctrinated into the school system. As we sit to discuss a large photo they sometimes revert to labeling the picture thinking this is what I, as the teacher, wants. Or they will start their 'sentence' the same way the child before them did, thinking this is how they will 'get it right'. So I pause, asked them to say more about what they are thinking, ask other students what they think about what was said. It's not a 'sentence' I am looking for. We don't...