Mrs. Flaherty- Where's My Slice?

Write? You want me to write something? But I’m a math teacher! I mean…I used to teach writing, but that was so long ago! Do I even remember HOW to write a small moment?

These thoughts crept into my mind in the strangest places…

“Could THIS be my slice of life?” I thought when I went snowshoeing. I mean, it was kind of hilarious when I took a step up a white snowy drift only to catch my snowshoe on my other snowshoe and tumble backwards into a pile of snow, landing in perfect position for making snow angels (and I did!)

“Could THIS be my slice of life?” I thought as I stepped onto the sandy beach in Southampton with my dogs for their first view of the ocean. As the rough waves crashed onto the shore, the howling wind blew the sea foam across the sand for my pups to chase. I mean…when we approached the breakers and were chased (and caught!) by a fast moving wave nipping at our heels, it was great fun!

“But wait! Could THIS be my slice of life? This one’s better…” I thought when I was on my way home from the beach trip and started feeling like I had grains of sand in my eyes, desperately wanting to be washed away. As the sinuses in my head grew increasingly angry they reared their ugly head in a flow of goopy green glop that oozed out of my eyes…now THAT was a good (and gross!) slice of life!

Then just this morning, as I celebrated the 2 hour school delay by descending to my basement to fit in a workout, the gift of time allowing me to do so, I realized the point of it all…

Every day is filled with small moments! Every moment is a slice of our wonderful and miraculous life! As long as we stop, look, listen, feel, and create, we all are always writers!

Mrs. Neskie- Pizza and French Fries

“It’s hard to learn as an adult,” they say. 

“It’s a fun winter sport to do as a family,” they say.

“Just remember pizza and french fries,” they say.

I am the only Neskie in my family that doesn’t ski. Even my two-year-old owns a pair of skis and has been up on a chairlift before. My six-year-old can go down a black diamond on his own. Is that even what it’s called?

I decided it was time to try.  I love facing my fears and jumping into the unknown. I reluctantly signed up for a lesson. A ‘beginner’ lesson, I had to check and double check as I was registering.

The morning of my lesson, my family walked me out to the bunny hill to meet my instructor and group. They dropped me off, and I heard my six-year-old yell at me as they walked away,  “Remember Mom, pizza and french fries!” 

We learned the basics during the first part of the lesson. How to walk in skis, use our poles and all about the pizza and french fries! I quickly learned that the pizza turn involves pointing your skis towards each other in a "V" shape to slow down, while the fries turn involves keeping your skis parallel to each other to turn. Surprisingly, I was catching on quickly.

At the end of our lesson, it was time to put it all together. We were going to ski down a hill! At this time, my family was there to watch me. Or maybe it was to laugh at me! 

It was my turn to go down the hill. My six-year-old again yelled out to me, “Pizza and french fries!” I pushed myself forward and I was off. I kept repeating to myself, pizza and french fries, pizza and french fries, pizza and french fries.  I looked up and I was doing it! I was skiing! 

I got to the bottom of the hill with the biggest smile on my face. I skied! I went over to hug my six-year-old and whispered to him, “Pizza and french fries, Ollie, pizza and french fries.”

Mrs. Dise- 4 am

If you asked me before I had kids if I was ever up at 4 am, my response would probably be, “only to catch a flight.” Even then, I would take a 2-hour nap later that day or go to bed at 6pm. Nowadays, it’s become a daily routine that I am up during the dreaded 4 o’clock hour.

Most mornings, I’m in a deep sleep when I hear the faint cry of my son. His cry pulls me quickly from my dreams, and as I raise my head, I hope just once that I’ll see a 5 displayed on the bedroom clock instead of a 4. As I lay my head back down on the pillow, I pray he will go back to sleep, but his cry only gets louder. After a couple minutes of procrastinating, I somehow muster the energy to drag myself out of my comfortable, warm bed.

I stumble down the dark hallway with my eyes barely open, bumping into the walls. My yellow lab, Lucy, is usually right behind me, stumbling just the same. Lucy follows me wherever I go, especially if there’s a chance she might get fed a little earlier than normal.

I warm up my son’s bottle and quietly open his door. His room is kept dark with a dim nightlight. I take a seat in the rocking chair and start to feed him with Lucy nestled at my feet. He looks up at me and smiles, not having any idea that his mommy is so exhausted she’d much rather be buried in her pillows. He grabs hold of my hair with one hand and plays with it or sometimes pulls it while he drinks his bottle.  Every now and then, if we’re lucky, he’ll go back to sleep once he’s done, and I can race back into bed.

After months of this same routine, my body is pretty accustomed to waking up so early. I try, as hard as it is, to cherish these 4 am wake-ups.  I know soon enough these moments will pass and I’ll look back and fondly remember these early mornings spent with my son. These beautiful, quiet moments, gazing into each other’s eyes, softly smiling, while the rest of the world sleeps.

Mrs. Maldonado- Snow Days, Delays, and Early Dismissals

Snow day?  Nothing!?  Not even a delay?!  I barely slept.  I was CERTAIN we would have a snow day…at LEAST a delay.  As I mope around the house, my phone buzzes.  It’s Simsbury Board of Ed!  It’s a delay!!!  Time to go back to bed.

Ice, snow, and wind lashed against the windowpanes, each drop a tiny anvil pounding on my hopes. I was CERTAIN, everyone else had a delay, why not us…

Mopey and hollow, I wandered the house, in a gloom of my own disappointment. But then, a buzz in my pocket, a tremor of possibility. Simsbury Board of Ed. My heart pounds, could it be possible… DELAY!

I set my alarm to wake me up in about an hour. Valerie and Emily have a delay, and since they’re still sleeping, maybe I can sleep for another half hour before they wake up for the day. As soon as I doze off, I hear the clickety-clack of Emily opening her door. SWOOSH! My door swings open and Emily walks in. So much for my half-hour nap. I get up and start getting the girls ready for school…still hopeful that I’ll get a closing. Farmington is closed and so is Canton and Avon. Alas, it’s 7:40am, and there is no way we’re getting a closing, let me start getting ready for school. As I drag my feet across the room to gather my makeup to look halfway decent for the day, that familiar buzz from my phone goes off. “That’s not a text, that’s a phone call,” I think to myself.  

“This is Neil Sullivan assistant Administration for Simsbury public schools Due to power outages, Simsbury public schools will be closed on Monday, December 18th. Once again, Simsbury public schools will be closed on Monday, December 18th.”

Mrs. Egan: I Am From

 I am from seashells and sunflowers.

I am from fig trees and meatballs.

Building sand castles at the beach with little hands and feet.

I am from homemade gnocchi and creamy lasagna.

I am from Nonna Rosina and Nonna Anna.

I am from “Don’t worry, be happy” and

“Call me when you get home.”

I am from Sunday sauce bubbling on the stove and garlic 

simmering in the pan.

From 1 of 7 and 1 of 2

From short, not very tall.

Under my bed was always clean.

“Get it done today!”

I am from those moments-

I am....ME!

Mrs. Lippincott, Mom and PTO Member- A Cold Day in January

It was a very cold, sunny Thursday afternoon. My two children were playing outside in the snow with the neighbors. I was warm inside watching from the window and getting started on dinner. I heard joyful laughing and shrieking as they sledded down the hill outside. For a while it was quiet. 

Suddenly, there were loud screams. I couldn’t make out what they were yelling.

These screams sounded different than the happy screams. 

Was someone hurt? 

Was there an argument?

I looked out the window and saw the two girls wrestling a white pom pom hat away from the playful dog across the street. The girls were ok (relief). 

I started putting on my coat and boots to go check on the two boys and they came running inside, still screaming and squealing. They were gasping to catch their breath. They are not hurt (relief again). The boys told me that they were playing in the woods across the street, and they stumbled upon a mama bear and two baby cubs! The girls came inside and now all four of them were excitedly trying to tell their version of the same story. 

The screams I heard were them yelling “bearrrrrr bearrrrrrrr bearrrrrrr”. They told me they slowly backed away, yelling “bear” until they were far enough away from the bears and then ran. They said the mama was staring at them and the babies ran up a tree. 

The brave one wanted to show me. We took a peek from a VERY VERY safe distance and we left the mama and cubs. We were very surprised to spot bears on this cold day in January. You never know what animals you will cross paths with in Simsbury. Nature is a beautiful thing. 

Mrs. Dell'Aera- Waiting for Spring

The wind rattled old windows. 

The temperature was in single digits. ‘

The sun peeked its head above the horizon.  

The smell of fresh coffee wafted up the stairway.  

The thumping of clothes filled the quiet air of the laundry room.

It was a Sunday morning in January… just the perfect time to start planning the garden.

Emmie carefully inventories the opened, worn seed packets.  She thumbs through the fresh, unopened packets; feverishly scribbling down varieties of vegetables and flowers, making note of which ones need reordering. 

Online seed catalogs were tabbed opened on the phone and a paper list was made of varieties that caught her fancy.  

Now it is my turn to look at her list and see the varieties she picked.  

Chitter chatter, just loud enough to be heard above the sound of the thumbing, tumbling clothes in the dryer.  “Wow, that must be a new variety of Snapdragon!? It’s almost as tall as EllaGrae.” I said.

“Oh wow… That is tall! Isn’t that color so pretty?” Emmie responded. 

“We definitely need to get tall varieties to make our flower bouquets taller this year,” Emmie said.

Back and forth we chatted with excitement as we solidified our seed order.

As I pressed the “Submit Order” button our conversation turned to when we should start setting up the racks, lights, and trays for the seeds. 

Now we wait. 

We wait for Jon the mailman to deliver our seeds so we can eagerly open the packages.

Then we wait again.

We wait for the calendar to get closer to spring.