I'm out, I'm in . . .

She loves me, she loves me not.

I so remember picking the petals off a daisy as a little girl, siting in a circle with friends in front of the Hobensack's house on 8th Street.

A similar refrain has been going through my head the past few weeks.  First I received the email from the Slice of Life Challenge inviting me again to participate, and then my daughter, the best author in the family, also invited me.

Last year I was in, all in.

This year?  I'm out.  I'm in. I'm out . . .

And so I decided this year I was definitely not going to participate.  And I had a multitude of reasons-- or excuses?

One of the main reasons/excuses was last year's SOL.

I was determined to write all 31 days.  And I was on a roll.

Day after day I wrote.  I was going to make it!

And then one busy day somewhere around Day 22 or 23, I woke up one Saturday morning thinking about the busy day to come as a high school principal and it hit me.

I had not written a post the day before.

How did I forget?  Yes, it was a busy day.  Fridays are always a blur in high schools, especially for principals.

And so my best opportunity to write every day ended just like that.  My perfectionism hit me as a train barreling around a mountain curve.  Failure.

And so, that is most likely the reason that I woke up this morning with my decision set. I hate to fail again, and I most assuredly will never make 31 days of writing.  I was out.  Definitely out.

And then tonight.  What just popped up on my email and Facebook?  My daughter's #SOL16 post.  And she delineated her dilemma-- how hard it is for her to participate.  She is a ELL high school teacher with a new baby,  Time is extremely limited.

And then her post also detailed all the steps she has taken to inspire her own students to participate-- to motivate them, as she always does.  She is a special teacher and her students' world stories are also special.  I read it.  And then I read it again.

And that is that.  My daughter inspires and motivates me. And so does #SOL16.

I am in. . . .