Starting Early

By far my favorite part of my consultant/coach gig is spending time in first-grade classrooms. This morning, I pulled out a tiny chair and sat back to observe a focus group lesson with five squirmy kids. The teacher is good, and she had planned an engaging activity, so it wasn't long before most of the students were listening to stretched-out words pronounced in a choppy "alien" voice so that they could blend them back together into fluent earthling English. 

Except that one little boy! Every time I visit that class, his clothespin is either on "warning" or "lose extra recess," and I'm usually there before 9, so he must get started on his mischief early. Today, he couldn't fully participate in segmenting words with his hand because he was first fidgeting with his pencil. Then? He was reaching under the table for something. When his teacher asked what he had down there, he shrugged innocently, but when she held out her hand, he produced a piece of paper he had hidden in his shoe.

She shook her head and set it aside, but not before I saw what it was. He was hiding the worksheet that the other kids were doing. The teacher had given the assignment directions to the whole class before pulling his group to the table, and he clearly preferred that task. 

"At least he wanted to do work," I laughed when we talked about it on the coaching call later. "Just not the right work."

His teacher looked unconvinced, but then she nodded. "This is why it's good to have another perspective," she agreed.

On Tip Top Toes

I had an unexpected opening in my day today when one of the teachers I'm coaching had to postpone our observation because of testing that was rescheduled after all the snow days. When I got home from my other observation, I changed my clothes and went to the nail salon for a pedicure, since it was finally warm enough to wear slides to and from the car. 

Maybe I was channeling my dental hygienist and his observation about this being a week of self-care; I also had an acupuncture appointment this afternoon. Or maybe, after 2 sessions of PT and with the upcoming acupuncture, I was just tired of people looking at my snaggly feet. 

Either way? My toes look great!

Final Confirmation

Heidi's mom is turning 80 in March, and as a surprise, we are flying her grandson, Kyle, in from Nashville for the party. I spent part of Sunday texting him, researching, and finally booking his flight. There was a little confusion on the airline website; booking and paying for a passenger other than me was not as intuitive as it could have been. When it was all set, I texted his itinerary and confirmation number, and we exchanged our glee at the upcoming surprise. 

But when I woke up this morning, I had an email from the airline that I had canceled my flight, and when I logged on, the website confirmed that I had no upcoming trips. I checked my credit card and saw two holds on the airline charges, which was confusing, but I went ahead and rebooked the flight. Then I sent Kyle a message with the new confirmation number. 

This afternoon, I got an email from the airline asking whether I needed a hotel for my trip to Buffalo, but the confirmation number in the message was not the one I had sent this morning. This time, when I logged onto the website, I realized that, of course, I don't have any upcoming trips. Kyle does! And when I checked, I saw he had 2 identical trips: one booked this morning and the other on Sunday. 

Fortunately, the reservation I made earlier today was within the penalty-free cancellation window, so I canceled it. But then I sent Kyle a message that we were back to the old confirmation number. Except, we weren't. 

I think what happened was that when I was messing around with the passenger and payment info on Sunday, the website autofilled me as the passenger. When I changed it before finalizing the trip, it must have canceled my reservation and confirmation number and booked a new one with a new number. 

That's the notification I got today: my momentary reservation was canceled, but that's the number I originally sent to Kyle, so I had to send yet another text. 🙄

You Could Call it That

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" My dental hygienist removed the spray and suction from my mouth so I could answer.

I swallowed. "Well, after this, I'm going to P.T.," I replied, and gave a thumbnail of my plantar fasciitis saga.

"It's a day of self-care, then?" he said as he resumed hydrosonically scaling my teeth.

All I could do was shrug.

Two Dogs Passing in the Afternoon

The sidewalk was narrowly shoveled, and it would have been impossible for Lucy and me and the guy coming toward us with his golden retriever to pass comfortably. Likewise, the snow banks on either side were substantial and icy, so it was equally impossible to step aside. From his distance of 10 yards or so, the man nodded in acknowledgment, backed up, and stepped into the parking lot he had just passed. As we approached, a look of relief washed over his face, and he smiled and loosened his grip on the leash. "They know each other, I think," he said.

It was then that I took a closer look at the guy under the hat and behind the scarf and his frisky golden. "Oh!" I said to Lucy, "It's Leo!"

Of course, the dogs had known all along, which may have contributed to Leo's owner's caution. Leo's excitement may have been read as agitation; he does have a bit of an unfriendly reputation. And the truth is, Leo and Lucy usually walk together with Heidi and Adrian, Leo's other person. As it is, Andy and I barely know each other at all, although I did attend his wedding last June.

The dogs greeted each other, and then were ready to move on, as dogs so often are. "Nice to see you," Andy mumbled as we walked past.

"Take it easy, Andy," I answered.

A Prayer and a Wing

"Let's have wings for dinner!" Heidi uncharacteristically suggested, and when I raised an eyebrow, she added, "Please! It's the Super Bowl tomorrow!"

"You didn't even know that until I told you a little while ago," I laughed. "What kind of wings do you want?"

She named a nearby Korean-style wing place.

"You want to buy wings for dinner?" I asked. "That's so weird." And it is. We never do anything like that.

"Fine!" she huffed. "Forget it! Make something healthy instead." And off she headed upstairs. 

I looked at my watch. It was about 1:45, and after a late breakfast of waffles (homemade!), we hadn't eaten lunch yet. So I picked up my phone and ordered a half-dozen double-fried soy-garlic wings to be delivered ASAP. 

Thirty minutes later? Everyone was happy.

With a Y

Lucy can be very persnickety when it comes to treats. In fact, she has been known to spit out goodies she considers to be subpar. Heidi accepts responsibility for some of this pickiness; she is very discerning about what Lucy eats, too. 

Even so, novelty often wins out. For example, today on our walk, we passed by a group that regularly protests the current administration's policies by waving flags and hanging banners on an overpass so that drivers on the interstate can see them. "What a cute dog!" said one lady as we skirted the demonstrators. "Is she friendly?" She turned, waving her flag as she did.

At the word 'dog,' Lucy turned and wagged her tail.

"She's not afraid of the flag or anything!" marveled the lady. "What's her name?"

"Lucy," I answered.

"Lucy with an i or Lucy with a y?" she asked.

"Y," I replied.

"Can she have a treat?" She showed me some Charlie Bears.

"Sure," I shrugged, knowing that those are regularly spat out around the house.

"Sit!" she said.

Lucy sat.

"Good girl!" She held out her palm gleefully.

Lucy crunched up those Charlie Bears like she hadn't eaten in days.

"What a nice dog," the lady smiled.

"Thank you so much," I said, and continued on, just knowing that Lucy is going to be looking for the treat lady any time we ever cross that bridge again.