Unelated

Go.

through.

everything?

Check.

Pack?
Check.

Contract realtor?

Check.

Move to hotel?

Check.

Recycle computer? 

Check.

Dispose of hazardous waste?

Check.

See Mom's friends for one last drink or meal?

Check.

Cancel cable and return equipment?
Check.

Sell car?

Check.

The checklist is complete, and we are heading home tomorrow.

So why don't we feel better?

Reach

We went through every drawer and cabinet in my mom's place one more time yesterday to make sure we hadn't missed anything we wanted or needed. We sorted through pictures and papers organizing them into keep, shred, and recycle. But it wasn't as systematic as it might sound. We also wandered in and out of my mom's closets trying on familiar and unfamiliar garments, sat numbly on the couch, and Courtney and I went swimming, and Bill and I had our nails done.

It was somewhere in the middle of all that when Courtney realized she had misplaced her iPad. To further complicate the matter, the speakers on her device were recently damaged and so it was impossible to even play the lost sound alert. "I'm sure it will turn up," I told her, even though we had scoured the apartment. "If we don't find it, the packers will."

And it was resigned to that fact that we went to bed. This morning we all rose early, knowing that the crew was coming by nine. My sister, though, rose with uncharacteristic verve. "I dreamed where my iPad is!" she told us. "It's in the recycling dumpster."

"I'm ready for the mission!" I said.

"We need the step stool from Mom's closet," she said, "and a phone to FaceTime it so it will light up."

"Wow, you really have thought this through," I marveled, and it was true. She had been up in the middle of the night, but too prudent to go dumpster diving alone at that hour, so she did the next best thing: made a plan.

We both dressed Ninja-style in tights and black tops, and armed with step stool and phone headed down to the basement of the building to find. that. iPad!

And we did! It took a minimum of chucking a few cans and bottles and some of our own rejected documents, before Courtney lifted her iPad victoriously over her head. "Thank you, Mommy!" she said, and we both knew it was so.

For the Soul

What to eat on the last night you will ever spend in your mother's home?

We never even considered that question as we moved through our day: sorting, packing, and disposing of my mom's possession before the company that we hired to do the heavy lifting on that task knocks on our door tomorrow morning at nine. Then, we will pack up our things and leave them to their work, letting go of the majority of my mother's things forever.

And yet, it was impulsive hunger that prompted me to scoop the rotisserie chicken from its hot case yesterday and simply the presence of chicken broth and pasta in the pantry that had me simmering the carcass all afternoon until it became obvious that the meal we should share tonight?

Was chicken soup.

Relative Temperature

"What's the weather going to be like in Minnesota?" my friend Mary asked yesterday.

"I don't even know," I answered and pulled out my phone to check. "Some cold, some not so cold," I reported. "Tomorrow it's going to be 35."

"I think it's supposed to be cold everywhere," she told me.

"But that's the warm weather!" I said.

Not Feeling It

I always say there are three days I kind of hate to be a middle school teacher: Valentines Day, St. Patrick's Day, and April Fool's Day. On those silly, minor holidays, the tweens that I teach just

lose.
their.
minds.

I understand their enthusiasm: the festivities of those days are social and peer-centered, and they give the kids a chance to start celebrating independently of their families. It's almost a rite of passage.

And yet...

Because it is so novel an experience, the kids are not good at regulating their excitement and they do ridiculous things.

For example this Valentine's Day morning a student in my homeroom asked me to hold her bag of chocolate bars, treats she had brought for her friends and teachers, while she went to her locker. I took the bag without hesitation, happy to help. "Don't let anything happen to them!" she told me handing the candy over. "Don't let anybody take them, and do not eat them!"

I gave her my best as if look.

She tapped my nose. "Or you'll be fired!" she warned me, and literally spun on her heel to make way to her locker.

Making Progress

A former student stopped by my room right after school today. "Can I have a lollipop?" the now 7th grader asked.

"What have you done to earn it?" I asked him in return.

"Uh," he paused. "I haven't been sent to the office all year. That's good for me."

I agreed that it was. "How about English?" I said. "How are you doing in there?"

"Fine, I think," he shrugged.

"What are you learning?" I continued.

"Conjunctions? And poetry?" He sounded uncertain. "What are you guys doing?" He smiled, deftly shifting the focus of our conversation.

"We're doing the commercials," I told him, and he smiled even wider, because that is a popular project and students universally love and remember it. "What was your commercial about?" I asked, because I honestly could not recall.

He launched into a long description of what it was, and what the team wanted to do, and why it wasn't as good as they hoped, and how he was absent for a day during the production, and they never really got back on track.

"Let's watch it right now," I said, and pulled it up. It was 20 seconds of shenanigans, loosely addressing the uses of their imaginary product, but to him? It was a time capsule, and he told me in detail what they had been trying to achieve and why they had fallen short. It was quite an insightful analysis and reflection.

"I loved that project!" he said. "Even though we could do a way better job now."

"I'm so glad," I replied. "Would you like a lollipop?"

Modal Students

We were in a workshop targeting strategies for teaching English Language Learners when the instructor brought up the term modal verbs.

"Do you know what they are?" she asked.

Given that the words would, might, and could had been highlighted on the previous slide, I guessed that they were some kind of auxiliary verb, and indeed they were. A modal verb is an auxiliary verb that expresses necessity or possibility. English modal verbs include must, shall, will, should, would, can, could, may, and might.

"Your students might not know those words and how they affect the meaning of a sentence," the presenter continued. "For example, they may not know the difference between I might do my homework and I will do my homework."

"Oh," I whispered to my colleague. "Several of them definitely don't know that!"

We laughed.

"But it's not really a language issue, is it?" she said.