SLICE OF LIFE- THE FINISH LINE

March 31st.

The Slice of Life Challenge is over.

And I did it. Or almost did it.

I wrote 31 posts.

But I didn't technically totally do it,

because I skipped one day

and wrote two posts another day.

But I almost did it.

I wrote approximately nine posts about life at school.

I wrote approximately fifteen posts about being a mom to teenagers,

or about specific conversations I had had with my teenagers.

I wrote two posts about our dogs.

I wrote approximately four posts about life in general.

I wonder, does the fact that I wrote more about parenting teenagers

than I did about school, mean anything?

Does the fact that I wrote more about Son #1 than Son #2 mean anything?

I loved writing every day.

I loved opening my email and seeing that someone had commented.

Tonight, I loved reading back through the slices

And remembering stuff that I had kind of already forgotten.

And I wonder if I could keep slicing all by myself

To save for the boys.

And I wondered why I had not written more for them sooner

because I know there is a lot I have forgotten.

I loved reading other people's slices

and getting to know people around the world.

I loved seeing all of the different genres people tried

and seeing how different authors crafted their work.

I loved hearing the stories of other people's lives.

If I had it to do over again--

I'd be a better commenter.

I did try to comment on three posts every day.

And most days, more than half, I made it.

But if I were going to do it again,

I think I would choose two Slicers to follow consistently

And then vary the third one from day to day.

And I wish I could have figured out a better way

to respond to people's comments.

If there was one thing I would change about Slice of Life

I wish we would have one day, the very first day,

where we wrote slices about ourselves--

who we were, where we lived, our jobs.

Some people had that on their blog,

but some people I wanted to know better.

Thanks, Ruth, for pulling all of us together.

Thanks, Slicers, for committing to writing every day, or almost every day.

Thanks Commenters, for responding with grace and sensitivity and kindness.

It was a terrific month of writing!

SLICE 31- SO GOOD TO SEE THIS GUY

At 1:00, Son #1 stalks out of the bedroom, where he has been playing video games with brother and friend. "Will you take me to work out with R at 2?" he asks, in a voice that is more than a little demanding.

Despite the ugly voice, I am thrilled. This is the guy I know. The one who connects with football friends every chance he gets. The one who love, love, loves to work out.

"Sure, buddy. Where is he working out?" I ask.

"With some trainer," says my son, "It's a speed camp. You have to pay."

An hour or so later, I sit with another mom, watching him run up a hill. It's a steep hill. They run the hill. Rest a few seconds. Trot back down. Run up backwards. Rest a few seconds. Trot back down. Over and over and over again. One kid throws up in the gutter.

For the first two or three heats, my guy is at the front of the pack. After that he drops farther back. Even so, he is carrying himself in the way that I usually see only on the football field. Big. Confident. Shoulders squared. Light on his feet.

Afterwards, he talks to the coach, who calls him Big Man. He smiles, big enough so that I can see his dimple. His eyes sparkle. He asks if he can go two or three times a week to work out with R and this coach.

We have had a rough couple of months- hating school and not wanting to go. His dreams have seemed far away. Almost unreachable.

Today, it was so good to see this guy.

Today, it was so good to hope.

SLICE #30- LIFE WITH THE GREAT HOUDINIS

It's super windy in Colorado today. I hold off taking out the garbage as long as I can, then finally blow out the back door, dragging a ginormous bag of trash along behind me. I wrestle the back gate open and am trying to stuff yet one more bag of trash in our overflowing can, wondering why our trash guys, who usually come on Tuesday morning have not yet showed up this week.

All of a sudden, the gate, which I thought was latched, blows open and two black flashes, that I quickly identify as my labs, go flying by me. Star, the escape artist and her faithful follower, Jack, have escaped yet again, the second time in the last two days. I debate whether I should run and grab a hot dog, or my car keys and decide maybe I should just take off running.

Within seconds, the dogs have made it the half block to 26th, a pretty busy thoroughfare. Thankfully, both dogs make it across the street, but I feel the glares of three drivers as I chase after them.

"Jack, Star," I shout. "Want a hot dog?" My two escape artists are no dummies however. They pause only momentarily to sniff the air and then, picking up no meaty scent, resume their mad dash.

I try again. "Jack, wanna go bye-bye? Come on Star, let's go. " The car is another favorite treat, and I think maybe this will get their attention, but that doesn't work either. I look to see if I see any angels that might grab my two wild beasties, but there is no one in sight. We keep running.

Another half block down, there is a construction site. The both dogs are distracted momentarily by a fast food bag and I sneak up and grab Star by the collar. Usually when I get her, Jack will follow along, but that is not the case today. He changes directions, but won't come close enough to allow me to catch him. Instead he stays two or three houses ahead, as I drag Star along, gripping her pink collar firmly in my hand.

I'm afraid to risk 26th again, so I do an about face. Jack pauses, then decides he will follow us. I hear him come tearing up behind, delighted at this new game of doggie tag. I lunge for his collar and am practically pulled off my feet, but I am successful. Jack gags as his forward momentum is stopped in mid-flight.

I get a firmer grip on both collars and the three of us- one slightly winded, middle aged lady and two big black labs, tongues lolling, tails wagging, march down 26th and up our front walk.

Just another day in the life of the Great Houdinis…

SLICE #29- TOO QUIET HERE

I have lived alone for the majority of my adult life. I had a roommate for the first three or four years after I graduated from college, and then one year during my doctoral program, but aside from that, I have pretty much always lived alone.

In 2003, I adopted my boys, and my life changed almost overnight. I went from quiet evenings, Lean Cuisine, walks at the park with a dog or two, to, hmm, I don't want to say chaos, but it definitely was a lot noisier and busier. And I liked it. A lot.

For the most part, my boys are kind of homebodies. They are much more apt to have friends over here than go to someone else's house for a night or weekend. I like it that way. I like having kids around. I like the noise- the pounding up and down the stairs for food, the rap songs they compose on Garage Band, and the laughter. I like knowing where my kids are and what they are doing.

Tonight, though, both boys are across town at a friend's house. Aside from the dogs racing madly in and out, the house feels really, really quiet. I'm watching the CU game. And reading. And doing laundry.

But it's really quiet. And I don't like it. Not one little bit.

BLESS THIS MOUSE- Lois Lowry

Last night I went to Tattered Cover to see Lois Lowry, who is on a book tour for her newest novel, BLESS THIS MOUSE. I didn't intend to buy it, but of course, I ended up bringing the book home.

BLESS THIS MOUSE is the story of a community of 200 mice , who live in St. Bartholomew's church. Hildegarde, the Mouse Mistress, must shepherd her flock through periodic visits from the dreaded X (the exterminator) and also the Festival of Saint Francis, when the parishioners bring their pets, including cats, to be blessed. She is assisted by her bumbling wanna-be boyfriend, Roderick, and Ignatious, a wise old mouse who spent most of his life nibbling books in the university library, and therefore knows a little bit about a lot of things. And then there is Lucretia, the mouse who is constantly trying to usurp Hildegarde as Mouse Mistress…

I'm not usually big on animal fantasy, but this book is delightful. Hildegarde is a brave and resourceful leader. The complex "underground" life of mice, living in a church, where humans are kind of aware of them, but not really, reminded me of the Borrowers, which was one of my childhood favorites. The mice have their own religious life, complete with services on Sunday (led by Hildegarde) that I loved.

A terrific read aloud for primary grade students.

SLICE #28- A VISIT WITH AN OLD FRIEND

"Where are you going?" asked my son, as I headed out the door this afternoon.

"To see a friend," I shouted over my shoulder. "I'll be back in a little while."

It was the truth, kind of anyway. I was going to see a friend. OK, a friend I had never met. But a friend who I had known through her books for a long, long time.

Lois Lowry was reading at the Tattered Cover) this afternoon, and so I made the sixty mile round trip, through rush hour traffic, to see my old friend.

Lowry has a new book, BLESS THIS MOUSE, that has just come out in the last few weeks. She talked first about the origin of this story. Lowry was at her summer home in Maine sitting at the dining room table writing when a little mouse scurried out from his hiding place. Unlike most mice, however, he was not afraid of Lowry, or her dog either. He sat in the middle of the room, and even allowed the author and her dog to approach and touch him. Lowry said that finally she scooped him up in her hand, said, "I think you will be much happier outside," and took him out into the yard, where she released him. When she came back into the house, she opened a new file on her computer, and started the story that became BLESS THIS MOUSE. The book only took her three weeks to write.

Lowry talked a little about the characters in the book, especially Hildegarde, the Mouse Mistress and Roderick, her not so smart friend. An author, said Lowry, must first make her reader care about her characters, and then she must create a problem that leaves the reader worrying about them. Hildegarde and Roderick live in a church, along with 218 other mice. The Feast of Saint Francis is fast approaching. On this day, the parishioners and townsfolk bring their pets to be blessed. The mice hate this day because they know the church will be filled with cats. Lowry read several scenes; one was a conversation between Roderick and Hildegarde that would be perfect for teaching kids how authors use conversation to reveal characters. In the other scene, Hildegarde, wearing a green gumdrop hat tied with a gold cord from the priest's garments, decides that the mice need to receive the blessing of Saint Francis.

Lowry also talked a little about her process. She said she typically starts with a character and a quest. She sometimes, but not always, knows how the story will end. She never outlines, because that makes the writing boring for her.

She also talked a little about her current project. Lowry is writing the fourth book in the Giver series. The main characters in this book are Gabriel and his birth mother. Lowry described it as a long book, she said about 450 pages, which will come out next spring, if she gets home and gets it written.

So far my spring vacation has been more work than fun, lots of appointments, and chores, and cleaning. It was really nice, then, to spend this chilly Monday night with an old friend…

SLICE #27- A SINGLE DAY

A single day can shape an entire life.

Today I had lunch with my boys' older sister. R doesn't live with us, but we have stayed in pretty close contact with her since I adopted the boys. She comes over once or twice a month, and we keep in touch with her by phone, facebook and email.Today R and I had lunch.

Somehow, we got on the subject of the day the four siblings were put into foster care. R was seven and she remembers more than my boys, who were 4 and 2 at the time. R remembers being in someone else's apartment, she thinks they were babysitting her. She could look out the window and see where her mom parked. At one point, she saw her mom's car and went back to her apartment. Her mom wasn't there. R remembers that the police came to the door, and that a social worker came and told R and three of the boys to pack up their stuff. She remembers her mom showing up at some point and everyone crying and screaming as they went from the apartment to the car. They went from the apartment to Denver Human Services and then drove a long, long way to a foster home. That first night, R was supposed to sleep in a room with another girl. All three of her brothers were in what sounded like a dormitory room in the garage or off the garage. R had never been away from her brothers and was missing her mom, so she found her way to the boys' room, and slept with them. She remembers doing that every single night they were in that home.

That single day, probably more than any other, has shaped four kids' lives…