obsessed

 My dog Sunny is obsessed with playing ball. I have one of those Chuck It thingies that I use to toss a ball, but we don't play all the time (like, all winter!) There's one park we go to lots and now are part of the Puppy Patrol text thread - probably like 6 or 8 dogs and their parents who coordinate playdates.

When we are being social, I don't get the ball out, because once that comes out, she will just obsess over it and ignore all the playtime she could have.

So when another dog is playing ball, it's especially problematic. If Sunny gets the other dogs' ball, I may as well just forget it. She loves the game of me chasing her all over (and never being able to catch her).

So as soon as another ball comes out, I have to catch her and put her on a 10 foot leash. She's pretty smart and she knows she has no choice but to listen when she's on lock down!

it was 2020

 Two years ago, this past Friday, the world shut down.

A few days ago, I was walking back to my office to pop on zoom to do some collaboration with the other middle school teachers thinking it was so convenient that we now use Zoom as just another tool, and then I wondered, "How did we teach for so long from home on Zoom? Like, howwww?"

I went home from school that weekend in 2020 with all my devices thinking we would be out for two weeks and then our spring break.

I remember hypothesizing with friends, "Well, we are gonna miss St. Paddy's day, but hopefully we'll still have Easter."

Then it was hoping for our end-of-year rituals with the eighth grade.

Then fourth of July.

Why did we think it would end so quickly?

This weekend, the one of 2022, I was at Chicago's South Side Irish Parade and sang Friends in Low Places at the top of my lungs in a bar. It was nice to do those things again. But I know this covid lull won't last forever. Just praying we never go back to the worst of times from 2020 or 2021.

on daylight savings time

 A six word memoir:

Waiting on longer days and sun.

friends like this

I have the kind of colleagues who...

Stop by my office to ask advice.

Pickup lunch from me this week and bring me lunch next.

Are as obsessed with reading, writing, and pacing guides as I am.

Text me over the weekend and then email me on Monday to check in.

Say, "Awh, I want to coteach with you, too!"

Make an effort to help me be a better version of myself, by talking to me when I mess up.

Write me thank you cards.

Apologize when they make a mistake, no matter how much time has passed.

Make Tik Toks with me on our personal plan periods.

Trust me with new ideas. And their secrets.

Rally with thoughtful gestures when life gets tough.

Write Slice of Life blogs with me for a whole month straight.

Show up at my door when they need to cry.

Let me vent when needed, and keep all my secrets.

Tell me no when they see reasons why something won't work.

Clap for me when I do something they appreciate.

Take my phone from my desk (when I'm in the bathroom) and take 8 selfies.

Could you at least do 9 next time to be symmetrical? :-)

I have the kind of colleagues who

are also called friends.

sweet spot

Sunny is my first small dog. Growing up, we always had labs and retrievers, which I love, but just me in a small apartment - that wouldn't work. Sunny is 15 pounds - she's not tiny, but she's no big dog by any means.

Sunny and I live alone so she pretty much gets everything she wants, including sleeping with me. She doesn't take up much space so it works for now. My favorite is falling asleep with her in the little spot she always goes to.

I'm typically laying on my left side, kinda fetal position but not quite, pillow under my head and one just in front of me. She'll come in and get right in the little nook, laying her head over my side body.

We don't stay like this all night but I usually fall asleep this way. When I wake up she's  elsewhere, but still close by.

Anyone else with small dogs? Same for you? Maybe I'm the weird one.

letters

 Dear AC,

I've been holding you close in my prayers the past few weeks. Wearing the yellow ribbon as a visual reminder day-to-day. I didn't know Emily was your big sister, and I'm so glad I was able to send you a message on Facetime on Friday when Mrs. Hauer called. I feel a small amount of comfort knowing you are no longer in pain and are free to be a kid in a better place. I will keep praying for you, your family, and our community as a whole, and I'm here to listen to anyone who wants to tell me all the stories I didn't know about you. Thank you for inspiring us with your strength, smile, and bravery.

Love, Ms. Brezek

Dear Jay,

It's been about four months since I've heard the news and I still think of you often. Your sisters sent a thank you card for coming to your services and it was like a gentle hug via snail mail that I'm so thankful for. I wish I could have known them when we were dating. I sent back a card with some pictures I found of us, you smiling, the day we danced in my kitchen, and us at Six Flags with Caitlyn. And another, but it's slipping my mind now. I also found some missed voicemails that I didn't notice at the time in my mailbox, so idk. It's been a (strange?) comfort to still be able to hear your voice. I am consoled knowing that you are no longer in pain and I hope doing all the things that brought you joy. Know that you are loved and missed by so many, myself included.

Love, Michelle

Dear Rob,

It's a snowy day in Chicago, two days after a 60 degree Saturday and I'm sitting on the couch watching the snow fall, and thinking about all our times in the pool during Arizona summers (and falls and springs). You having a Miller Lite (had a few recently, refreshing!) and come chips and guac, the dogs swimming, waiting for Caitlyn to wake up from her nap and swim the day away with us.

It's been about seven months since we lost you and I just have so many emotions. Like, I don't know if they're okay to say, but they must be because how can something I'm feeling be wrong? I'm devastated that we lost you. I'm mad you didn't get a vaccine that could have likely saved your life. My heart breaks that mom is without you, after she poured all her love and energy into you since 1989. I'm comforted in all the memories I have but also feel the loss of all the things that were to come, that will now look different without you.

I watch for you in all the places I might find you: a cardinal in the trees, any references to Star Trek or that dancing movie you loved, a dude on a Honda motorcycle, airplanes, men with too much cologne (lol I haven't experienced yet, but your cologne habits make me laugh.) I hope you know how thankful I am to have had you in my life all these years, and I hope to make you proud as time goes on.

Hope you and your brother are staying out of trouble in heaven, but if you're finding it and happy, that's cool too. It makes me happy to know that you are there with him even though we are here without you.

I love you, Michelle

many ways to build collective efficacy

 New teachers need mentors;

we show up.

Friday treats in the lounge each week;

we show up.

Warm fuzzies on Valentine's Day;

we show up.

To lead staff development and pick the best practices;

we show up.

When there are birthdays, engagements, and new babies;

we show up.

To have fun with one another, day-to-day;

we show up.

To all the documents that archive our work and help us improve instruction year to year;

we show up.

When someone just needs a hug or to cry or vent;

we show up.

When someone becomes unwell;

we show up.

When there is loss and grief;

we show up.

In love and support for Ukraine;

we show up.