Wow, a mid-week post! If anyone is actually reading out there (hello....hello.... hello?) you are probably almost as surprised to be reading it as I am to be writing it! But this story is too good to save for the weekend.
Every day, at the end of the day, we have centers. Now, in MY kindergarten, centers is teacher-speak for "play with the toys, develop some social skills, and kill that last 45 mins before we can go home because your little brains are way too fried to think anymore today!" Sure, I could spin some edu-talk about how the centers reinforce our daily learning, and sometimes they do, but for the most part it's playtime.
Today I spent most of the centers time in our class library, reading Halloween books aloud to various children. I may not be able to officially promote Halloween, but I get around it in sneaky ways such as putting out a basket of enticing books and making it known I would be more than happy to sit in my rocking chair and read to anyone who asks. Just as I finished my third reading of Big Pumpkin (I do a rocking witch voice according to Thing One!) a chorus of "Mrs. Kindergarten! Mrs. Kindergarten!! He showed us his BUTT!" rang out from the blocks corner. Scrambling to my feet I rushed over there to find Van Gogh and another boy pointing at a third, who was cowering in the corner and insisting his pants "just slipped". Van Gogh and Friend insisted that NO, he had DROPPED his pants and showed his butt ON PURPOSE! As I was evil eyeing all 3 boys, trying to decide via telepathy who was lying to me, who should stroll in by Mrs. Pop! Of course, I was fumbling for the right decision, I should have KNOWN she was on her way!
In this case I was actually glad to see her. I called her over, explained the situation thus far, and looked at her expectantly. Mrs. Pop seemed a bit taken aback, but rallied quickly and told me that she thought she would take Moony for a walk to discuss his "pants malfunction". Her words, not mine, but it took every ounce of self control not to LMAO at her choice of phrase! Mrs. Pop left with Moony, the rest of us began to tidy up the room in preparation for dismissal. Just before the bell rang a tear stained little boy slipped back into my room and Mrs. Pop's voice echoed from the intercom. "Mrs. Kindergarten? I have spoken to Moony's mother and the problem has been taken care of. He will not do it again!" Which can only leave me to believe that at some point Moony must have 'fessed up and admitted that properly fitting pants do not just slip down to your knees suddenly and by themselves!
So, a new friend to occasionally blog about - Moony McButt!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Parent/Teacher Conferences
Parent/Teacher Conferences - a love/hate relationship! I like meeting the parents (many for the first time, sad to say) and filling them in on how much I adore their kiddos. I don't like having to discuss behavior or educational problems with parents who look at me cluelessly and claim earnestly that their baby is a perfect angel who reads Shakespeare at home, so they just don't know what my problem is at school! I even more dislike parents who don't bother to show up, or have the common courtesy to call and TELL me they are not going to show up, for our one and only face to face meeting of the year.
Overall, this year's conferences went really well.
Pukey's mom told me that she had actually prayed for her daughter to be in my class, and she knew we were the perfect fit for one another.
Thing 1's step-mom and dad were very pleasant and fully supported the behavior contract I have him on.
Van Gogh's mom didn't come, but she at least had the decency to send a note that morning saying their car was broken and she couldn't make it. I don't know if that's actually true or not, but I appreciate the notice as opposed to being stood up.
Southern Belle's mom said that her daughter "simply loves y'all at this school!" and how good she felt about the move.
Princess' mom is unhappy that we don't have homework yet, and doesn't think the program is quite challenging enough (never mind that Princess has not mastered all of the skills I have introduced this year and is not a child I would even consider recommending for the Gifted Program!). I assured her that we would start having homework after Christmas and suggested that she look into those lovely workbooks you can buy at most of the big box stores if she wanted to supplement Princess' academic day. What I wanted to say was "come on! It's KINDERGARTEN! She's SIX! Her homework is to run, and play, and make up stories, and listen to you read, and decompress after 7 hours of being told to sit still, focus, and listen."
Toddler Girl's mom - my only no-show of the night. Which didn't surprise me, but did piss me off since A)I sent a very blunt note home in TG's folder that it was very important Mom come because we needed to discuss TG's SPED testing and B) I had assembled an entire team to meet with her but she didn't have the shred of decency required to call the school and say "not coming". So now we get to hound her via USPS to come in so we can do an IEP meeting and get Toddler Girl the help she needs.
My big surprise of the night came from the family of a little guy I haven't introduced yet. He's a nice kid, somewhat hyper but not outstandingly so, with a great giggle and a winning smile. I think I'm going to dub him Mr. Perfect. Not because he is, but because that is what the family expects of him. Dad wants to know why I don't require Mr. Perfect to color every picture on every paper fully and completely, using the correct colors (no purple zebras in his world!), and staying meticulously within the lines. He also wants to know why I don't demand type-quality handwriting, especially when it comes to Mr. Perfect's daily name writing practice, and why I allow him to get away with such shoddy things as backwards numbers and invented spelling. Poor Mr. Perfect! In a typical day he's a typical kid, funny and open, well liked by his classmates. With his family I saw a whole new side - very quiet, very contained, hands folded and eyes downcast. Dad informed me, with pride, that Mr. Perfect is not allowed to cry at home, crying is for sissies and babies, and men don't show wussy emotions. I was also told that whenever Mr. Perfect flips a card (one card!) at school Dad takes a toy from his room and smashes it with a hammer to teach him a lesson. Dad doesn't feel that Mr. Perfect is always honest about flipping those cards and would like me to send home a note every time he flips a card so that he can correct the behavior. I told Dad that typically I only contact parents when the child has flipped 3 or more cards in a day, unless the child is a constant behavior problem and is on a daily behavior report from me. I assured him that his son, who has only flipped cards 3 or 4 times this year and then only 1 card a day, is no where near daily behavior report level and that I was uncomfortable being placed in a "tattle-tale" position for him. In my head I thought "well, then Mr. Perfect just won't flip cards, I'll come up with some other discipline at school for him" because damned if I am going to be the cause of a basically sweet and good kid watching his toys get smashed because he ran in the hall or pushed his way into the middle of the line. Seriously, who is THIS HARD on their five year old? If Mr. Perfect was killing small animals, setting fires, and threatening to blow my f'ing head off (like Terrorist Girl from my 1st year of teaching K) then I might understand the military-ish stance of Dad. But this is an overall good kid and even good kids make mistakes now and then. So I guess I'm going to have to monitor Mr. Perfect's work a little closer, in hopes of keeping Dad off his back (and mine!) but in my head I'm going to be thinking "you poor kid! Life isn't supposed to be this harsh!"
So conferences are mostly over for the year. I still have to somehow talk to Van Gogh's mom - either face-to-face or over the phone - and Toddler Girl's mom is going to come in and meet with me whether she likes it or not!
Overall, this year's conferences went really well.
Pukey's mom told me that she had actually prayed for her daughter to be in my class, and she knew we were the perfect fit for one another.
Thing 1's step-mom and dad were very pleasant and fully supported the behavior contract I have him on.
Van Gogh's mom didn't come, but she at least had the decency to send a note that morning saying their car was broken and she couldn't make it. I don't know if that's actually true or not, but I appreciate the notice as opposed to being stood up.
Southern Belle's mom said that her daughter "simply loves y'all at this school!" and how good she felt about the move.
Princess' mom is unhappy that we don't have homework yet, and doesn't think the program is quite challenging enough (never mind that Princess has not mastered all of the skills I have introduced this year and is not a child I would even consider recommending for the Gifted Program!). I assured her that we would start having homework after Christmas and suggested that she look into those lovely workbooks you can buy at most of the big box stores if she wanted to supplement Princess' academic day. What I wanted to say was "come on! It's KINDERGARTEN! She's SIX! Her homework is to run, and play, and make up stories, and listen to you read, and decompress after 7 hours of being told to sit still, focus, and listen."
Toddler Girl's mom - my only no-show of the night. Which didn't surprise me, but did piss me off since A)I sent a very blunt note home in TG's folder that it was very important Mom come because we needed to discuss TG's SPED testing and B) I had assembled an entire team to meet with her but she didn't have the shred of decency required to call the school and say "not coming". So now we get to hound her via USPS to come in so we can do an IEP meeting and get Toddler Girl the help she needs.
My big surprise of the night came from the family of a little guy I haven't introduced yet. He's a nice kid, somewhat hyper but not outstandingly so, with a great giggle and a winning smile. I think I'm going to dub him Mr. Perfect. Not because he is, but because that is what the family expects of him. Dad wants to know why I don't require Mr. Perfect to color every picture on every paper fully and completely, using the correct colors (no purple zebras in his world!), and staying meticulously within the lines. He also wants to know why I don't demand type-quality handwriting, especially when it comes to Mr. Perfect's daily name writing practice, and why I allow him to get away with such shoddy things as backwards numbers and invented spelling. Poor Mr. Perfect! In a typical day he's a typical kid, funny and open, well liked by his classmates. With his family I saw a whole new side - very quiet, very contained, hands folded and eyes downcast. Dad informed me, with pride, that Mr. Perfect is not allowed to cry at home, crying is for sissies and babies, and men don't show wussy emotions. I was also told that whenever Mr. Perfect flips a card (one card!) at school Dad takes a toy from his room and smashes it with a hammer to teach him a lesson. Dad doesn't feel that Mr. Perfect is always honest about flipping those cards and would like me to send home a note every time he flips a card so that he can correct the behavior. I told Dad that typically I only contact parents when the child has flipped 3 or more cards in a day, unless the child is a constant behavior problem and is on a daily behavior report from me. I assured him that his son, who has only flipped cards 3 or 4 times this year and then only 1 card a day, is no where near daily behavior report level and that I was uncomfortable being placed in a "tattle-tale" position for him. In my head I thought "well, then Mr. Perfect just won't flip cards, I'll come up with some other discipline at school for him" because damned if I am going to be the cause of a basically sweet and good kid watching his toys get smashed because he ran in the hall or pushed his way into the middle of the line. Seriously, who is THIS HARD on their five year old? If Mr. Perfect was killing small animals, setting fires, and threatening to blow my f'ing head off (like Terrorist Girl from my 1st year of teaching K) then I might understand the military-ish stance of Dad. But this is an overall good kid and even good kids make mistakes now and then. So I guess I'm going to have to monitor Mr. Perfect's work a little closer, in hopes of keeping Dad off his back (and mine!) but in my head I'm going to be thinking "you poor kid! Life isn't supposed to be this harsh!"
So conferences are mostly over for the year. I still have to somehow talk to Van Gogh's mom - either face-to-face or over the phone - and Toddler Girl's mom is going to come in and meet with me whether she likes it or not!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Toddling off to SPED
Finally, after many days of looking at the SPED teacher and SPED director and saying "squeak, squeak, squeak!!!" (the squeaky wheel, get it?), they finished up Toddler Girl's testing. And lo and behold, she turned up with a developmental age of just under 3 and an IQ that puts her near the bottom of the mildly mentally retarded range. And when I heard that I also heard angels singing in the background because this means there is no doubt she is going to qualify for services, no doubt she is FINALLY going to get an appropriate education instead of just stagnating in my room. Now we just have to get her mother to come in to the school and sign the paperwork, which may be an ordeal all in itself. See, mother will not answer the phone when the school calls (we are convinced she looks at Caller ID, sees our school name, and walks away!) and will not respond to any notes we have ever sent home. I have her scheduled for an entire hour's block at Parent/Teacher conferences later this month, so that we can go over all the test results and convince her to sign the paperwork, but am not at all sure she is actually going to show up!
I asked the SPED teacher what happens if Toddler Mom doesn't show up for her conference. She said, with some degree of assurance, that we try again to schedule an IEP meeting with her and that we send her notification via USPS and if she still doesn't show then we place Toddler Girl without her direct approval. I didn't know we could do that, but nice to hear! Toddler Girl is not the first lil' darlin' I've helped place in SPED but she is the first one where I think mother is going to fight us tooth and nail to oppose the placement.
So, as I understand the plan right now, once we get all the paperwork signed and in order, Toddler Girl will spend the morning with the SPED program. All of our really academic stuff happens before lunch - reading, writing, math, etc. She will join us for both recesses and lunch time. After lunch she will stay with my class for special classes (library, gym, art, etc.), story time, nap, snack, and centers. That allows her to get her academics at her own pace and level during the morning, but be with her age-peers for socialization during the afternoon. During her morning SPED time she will also get served by the speech pathologist and the occupational therapist (kiddo has lots of fine motor issues, related to an accident about a year ago). Sounds very reasonable to me, holding thumbs that Toddler Mother will see it the same way.
So that news was absolutely the best part of my week! Otherwise, not much to report, no major highs or lows for any of my other friends.
I asked the SPED teacher what happens if Toddler Mom doesn't show up for her conference. She said, with some degree of assurance, that we try again to schedule an IEP meeting with her and that we send her notification via USPS and if she still doesn't show then we place Toddler Girl without her direct approval. I didn't know we could do that, but nice to hear! Toddler Girl is not the first lil' darlin' I've helped place in SPED but she is the first one where I think mother is going to fight us tooth and nail to oppose the placement.
So, as I understand the plan right now, once we get all the paperwork signed and in order, Toddler Girl will spend the morning with the SPED program. All of our really academic stuff happens before lunch - reading, writing, math, etc. She will join us for both recesses and lunch time. After lunch she will stay with my class for special classes (library, gym, art, etc.), story time, nap, snack, and centers. That allows her to get her academics at her own pace and level during the morning, but be with her age-peers for socialization during the afternoon. During her morning SPED time she will also get served by the speech pathologist and the occupational therapist (kiddo has lots of fine motor issues, related to an accident about a year ago). Sounds very reasonable to me, holding thumbs that Toddler Mother will see it the same way.
So that news was absolutely the best part of my week! Otherwise, not much to report, no major highs or lows for any of my other friends.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Farm, The Pumpkin Patch, and The Loony Bin!
In my school district the Kindergarten teachers decided long ago, long before I joined their ranks, that a fall field trip would be just perfect. So each year we load 60-ish kids, 3 teachers (the other 3 classes go a different day), and assorted helpers onto a bus and shuttle the kids to a local dairy farm on the east side of town, a local pumpkin patch on the west side of town, the city park on the south side of town, and arrive breathlessly back at school - all in under 4 hours! No grass is growing under our feet, let me tell you!
Given the emotionally fragile state of my current class I was a bit apprehensive about the field trip this year. As it turns out, I should have skipped apprehensive and dove straight into f'ing terrified! By the time we got back on campus I was vowing, through gritted teeth and a blinding headache, that I would never, ever take this particular group of kids off campus again no matter WHAT fun activities the other 5 classes planned!
Van Gogh, it turns out, is extremely sensitive to unpleasant odors and has a hair trigger gag reflex. Ever been on a dairy farm? It doesn't smell like roses people! Poor Van Gogh spent our hour on the farm trying valiantly not to hurl and every time he would get near one of the cow barns or pens he would start to gag and have to back out, eyes watering, to find fresher air. I'm guessing the strain of holding back his gorge just wore him out, because once we hit the pumpkin patch he was tired, cranky, and spoiling for a tantrum. And let me tell you, when Southern Belle got picked TWICE during "Ghost, Ghost, Pumpkin", he found his opportunity to scream. Van Gogh threw himself on the ground and threw a humdinger of a fit. The other kids looked at him briefly, shrugged, and went back to their game. He has thrown so many fits by now they are mostly immune to it. Plus, since we were outside in a large field, his noise level was greatly diminished. The parents who had come along with us? Were horrified and all looked at me as if to say "WTF?" I took Van Gogh over to a quieter part of the field, got him to stop screaming, and reminded him that if he could not pull himself together I would need to call Mrs. Pop to come get him (yes, it is an option when we are that close to school!). Fortunately that was enough of a threat to get Van Gogh to mostly hold his shit together for the remainder of the day.
Princess was delighted to have her mother along on our trip. I was actually pretty pleased too because Queen Mum has turned out to be a fairly reliable helper. She counts heads nearly as frequently as I do, is happy to tie shoes, and is not at all grossed out by a kid in desperate need of a tissue. However, having Queen Mum along allowed me to see a whole new side of Princess. Her dainty little tootsies got tired, so tired and she wanted Mum to carry her back from the pumpkin field. When Mum refused, pointing out that everyone else was walking just fine, Princess screwed up her face and let out a wail that would put a fire truck to shame. Queen Mum's face immediately flushed and she scooped Princess up, saying in a flustered tone "there, ok, stop crying, Mummy's here, it's ok, please Princess don't cry!" I walked ahead, unable to make eye contact because I knew if I did all sorts of icky judgemental statements were going to pour out of my mouth. When we reached the field where the bus was parked Queen Mum set Princess back on her feet and muttered "You wouldn't throw a fit like that if I wasn't here" and I couldn't resist. Staring at Princess with my best teacher glare I said "No, she wouldn't, because she KNOWS I won't put up with it!" Princess had the grace to look embarrassed and Queen Mum flushed again. Princess threw another royal tantrum at the park because Queen Mum had the audacity to sit beside her at the picnic table with a sandwich that Princess found offensive (mind y0u, no one was asking Princess to partake of the sandwich, Mum was eating it, but Princess had to LOOK at it and that was revolting!). Princess screamed, cried, and ordered Queen Mum to go sit by someone else or throw her sandwich away. Queen Mum sighed and moved to another table.
Toddler Girl was confused by the whole day and wound up in my lap on the bus ride. True to her developmental age, riding in a vehicle has a soothing effect on her and in the 10 or so minutes it took us to get from the farm to the pumpkin patch she had fallen asleep, head on my leg, hand curled in mine, thumb in her mouth. I felt like such a meanie waking her up and she was a little zombie staggering off the bus, but she snapped back quickly. Overall she did much better than I had expected and stuck close to my side for most of the day. However in the end the excitement and exhaustion got the better of her and she wound up biting one of the other children on the arm and having to be taken away by the principal. Luckily (I think) it happened after we had arrived back at school so I didn't have to call anyone to come get her. Neither she, nor the child she bit, could give me any reason for the biting. The other child kept saying, in a completely perplexed tone, "I was just walking in front of her in the line and she grabbed my arm and bit me. I didn't do nothing to her!"
Southern Belle was just parched and told me approximately seventy-billion times that she was sooooooooooooo thirsty and didn't I have ANYTHING she could drink? Finally I said to her, in my "I'm going to be extra calm because I want to bite your head off right now" voice "Southern Belle? Do I have a drink in my hand? No? Do you think I have a drink in my pocket? No? Can I snap my fingers and get you a drink? No? Honey, I KNOW you are thirsty. You have told me many many times. I promise I will get you a drink as soon as I can. Now please stop telling me because there is nothing I can do for you right now." She then resorted to doing her throat clutching, painful dry swallowing, tears hovering in eyes bit - I think the child has a grand future in the theater!
Thing One was out of his gourd with excitement that his step-mom, little sister, and twin brother were all on the field trip too. He was actually mostly good, which surprised me. Step-Mom is loving but very strict and he is generally well behaved when she is around. His only difficult moment came in the pumpkin field. I had selected three possibilities for the children to vote for us to take home and there was a clear cut winner. Unfortunately it was not the pumpkin Thing One voted for and this was clearly a miscarriage of justice in his eyes. He stomped his feet, bellowed, and told me very defiantly that he was picking THAT pumpkin, we WERE taking it back to school, and he didn't CARE what the other kids wanted! To which I responded "Do we need to go talk to Step-Mom about that?" Thing One did an immediate about face, decided the other pumpkin was just fine after all, grabbed my hand and declared "I love you Mrs. Kindergarten! Please don't tell Step-Mom, ok?" Love you too Thing One and I won't rat you out this time!
Written out like this, it doesn't seem so bad. In the moment I felt like I was on Candid Camera, all those parents watching and all those kids crying and going nuts! I wish I could share the class picture we took at the pumpkin patch - it sums the day up perfectly. Princess is crying because she doesn't WANT to take a picture. Toddler Girl is looking off blankly to the left, Van Gogh and Thing One are screaming at each other about who gets to stand next to the scarecrow, Southern Belle is holding her throat with a pained expression, and the other children's expressions range from stunned to completely zoned out - not a smile in the bunch!
Given the emotionally fragile state of my current class I was a bit apprehensive about the field trip this year. As it turns out, I should have skipped apprehensive and dove straight into f'ing terrified! By the time we got back on campus I was vowing, through gritted teeth and a blinding headache, that I would never, ever take this particular group of kids off campus again no matter WHAT fun activities the other 5 classes planned!
Van Gogh, it turns out, is extremely sensitive to unpleasant odors and has a hair trigger gag reflex. Ever been on a dairy farm? It doesn't smell like roses people! Poor Van Gogh spent our hour on the farm trying valiantly not to hurl and every time he would get near one of the cow barns or pens he would start to gag and have to back out, eyes watering, to find fresher air. I'm guessing the strain of holding back his gorge just wore him out, because once we hit the pumpkin patch he was tired, cranky, and spoiling for a tantrum. And let me tell you, when Southern Belle got picked TWICE during "Ghost, Ghost, Pumpkin", he found his opportunity to scream. Van Gogh threw himself on the ground and threw a humdinger of a fit. The other kids looked at him briefly, shrugged, and went back to their game. He has thrown so many fits by now they are mostly immune to it. Plus, since we were outside in a large field, his noise level was greatly diminished. The parents who had come along with us? Were horrified and all looked at me as if to say "WTF?" I took Van Gogh over to a quieter part of the field, got him to stop screaming, and reminded him that if he could not pull himself together I would need to call Mrs. Pop to come get him (yes, it is an option when we are that close to school!). Fortunately that was enough of a threat to get Van Gogh to mostly hold his shit together for the remainder of the day.
Princess was delighted to have her mother along on our trip. I was actually pretty pleased too because Queen Mum has turned out to be a fairly reliable helper. She counts heads nearly as frequently as I do, is happy to tie shoes, and is not at all grossed out by a kid in desperate need of a tissue. However, having Queen Mum along allowed me to see a whole new side of Princess. Her dainty little tootsies got tired, so tired and she wanted Mum to carry her back from the pumpkin field. When Mum refused, pointing out that everyone else was walking just fine, Princess screwed up her face and let out a wail that would put a fire truck to shame. Queen Mum's face immediately flushed and she scooped Princess up, saying in a flustered tone "there, ok, stop crying, Mummy's here, it's ok, please Princess don't cry!" I walked ahead, unable to make eye contact because I knew if I did all sorts of icky judgemental statements were going to pour out of my mouth. When we reached the field where the bus was parked Queen Mum set Princess back on her feet and muttered "You wouldn't throw a fit like that if I wasn't here" and I couldn't resist. Staring at Princess with my best teacher glare I said "No, she wouldn't, because she KNOWS I won't put up with it!" Princess had the grace to look embarrassed and Queen Mum flushed again. Princess threw another royal tantrum at the park because Queen Mum had the audacity to sit beside her at the picnic table with a sandwich that Princess found offensive (mind y0u, no one was asking Princess to partake of the sandwich, Mum was eating it, but Princess had to LOOK at it and that was revolting!). Princess screamed, cried, and ordered Queen Mum to go sit by someone else or throw her sandwich away. Queen Mum sighed and moved to another table.
Toddler Girl was confused by the whole day and wound up in my lap on the bus ride. True to her developmental age, riding in a vehicle has a soothing effect on her and in the 10 or so minutes it took us to get from the farm to the pumpkin patch she had fallen asleep, head on my leg, hand curled in mine, thumb in her mouth. I felt like such a meanie waking her up and she was a little zombie staggering off the bus, but she snapped back quickly. Overall she did much better than I had expected and stuck close to my side for most of the day. However in the end the excitement and exhaustion got the better of her and she wound up biting one of the other children on the arm and having to be taken away by the principal. Luckily (I think) it happened after we had arrived back at school so I didn't have to call anyone to come get her. Neither she, nor the child she bit, could give me any reason for the biting. The other child kept saying, in a completely perplexed tone, "I was just walking in front of her in the line and she grabbed my arm and bit me. I didn't do nothing to her!"
Southern Belle was just parched and told me approximately seventy-billion times that she was sooooooooooooo thirsty and didn't I have ANYTHING she could drink? Finally I said to her, in my "I'm going to be extra calm because I want to bite your head off right now" voice "Southern Belle? Do I have a drink in my hand? No? Do you think I have a drink in my pocket? No? Can I snap my fingers and get you a drink? No? Honey, I KNOW you are thirsty. You have told me many many times. I promise I will get you a drink as soon as I can. Now please stop telling me because there is nothing I can do for you right now." She then resorted to doing her throat clutching, painful dry swallowing, tears hovering in eyes bit - I think the child has a grand future in the theater!
Thing One was out of his gourd with excitement that his step-mom, little sister, and twin brother were all on the field trip too. He was actually mostly good, which surprised me. Step-Mom is loving but very strict and he is generally well behaved when she is around. His only difficult moment came in the pumpkin field. I had selected three possibilities for the children to vote for us to take home and there was a clear cut winner. Unfortunately it was not the pumpkin Thing One voted for and this was clearly a miscarriage of justice in his eyes. He stomped his feet, bellowed, and told me very defiantly that he was picking THAT pumpkin, we WERE taking it back to school, and he didn't CARE what the other kids wanted! To which I responded "Do we need to go talk to Step-Mom about that?" Thing One did an immediate about face, decided the other pumpkin was just fine after all, grabbed my hand and declared "I love you Mrs. Kindergarten! Please don't tell Step-Mom, ok?" Love you too Thing One and I won't rat you out this time!
Written out like this, it doesn't seem so bad. In the moment I felt like I was on Candid Camera, all those parents watching and all those kids crying and going nuts! I wish I could share the class picture we took at the pumpkin patch - it sums the day up perfectly. Princess is crying because she doesn't WANT to take a picture. Toddler Girl is looking off blankly to the left, Van Gogh and Thing One are screaming at each other about who gets to stand next to the scarecrow, Southern Belle is holding her throat with a pained expression, and the other children's expressions range from stunned to completely zoned out - not a smile in the bunch!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Southern Belle
I got a new friend last week, to be affectionately called Southern Belle. She just moved her from Florida and bless her heart, these Midwestern falls are too darn cold for her! She spends all day shivering, telling me eleventy-seven times that she is "cawld", and pulling her jacket a little tighter around her frail little shoulders. Meanwhile those of us who have always lived in this neck of the woods feel like we are enjoying a unseasonably balmy fall, with temps still in the high 70s and low 80s every afternoon. What is poor Southern Belle going to do when winter arrives? Especially if we have severe winter storms like the last couple of years! Can she survive 17+ inches of snow in 24 hrs topped by 4 inches of ice?
Southern Belle is a sweet girl, with excellent manners. I was actually raised by my grandmother, a former Southern Belle herself, and those good manners that are drilled into children in the South (yes ma'am, no sir, please, thank you, etc) are much more important to me than to most of my Midwest counterparts. So the fact that Southern Belle actually THANKS me for handing her a worksheet, and says "please may I go use the restroom ma'am?" makes me want to hold her up in front of the rest of the class and say "See this? THIS is what y'all are supposed to act like!"
However, Southern Bell does have her annoying little foibles. First and foremost, she is really not that interested in making friends with the other children. She would much rather follow me around, asking a zillion questions, and observing intently whatever it is I might be doing (even if I'm just idly standing there supervising recess). I try to tell myself that she's still new, she's intimidated by the other kids, and that as the oldest child who's younger siblings are both under 2 (which means she was an only child until recently) she is just more used to interacting with adults. Still, I find myself mildly annoyed when I trip over her for the 14th time that day and gently-but-firmly urging her to go find someone to play with. Someone? Anyone? Baby girl, I'm not your friend, I'm your teacher! Southern Belle's other somewhat annoying tendency is a true southern belle trait of being a fragile little flower. When she is thirsty, she cannot wait, she must have water right now or she will grasp her throat, swallow with contorted expressions of pain, and look at me with such distress in her eyes you would think she had just crossed the Sahara without a canteen. When she is hungry she will tell me approximately seven million times in this faint voice "My, Mrs. Kindergarten, I am just sooooooooo hungry! How much longer did you say it was until lunch?" When informed that lunch is still an hour away she rubs her belly with an anxious expression and says forlornly "alright.... I'll try to wait" as if there were any other option.
The other children just aren't quite certain what to make of Southern Belle. They were so excited to get a new friend in our class and for the first few days everyone wanted to be near her, play with her, soak in her new-ness. But as she has gently rebuffed them - no, I don't care to play right now, thank you - they have wandered off, losing interest. Now that Southern Belle has emerged from her shell a bit and is ready to make some friends the other girls are unsure of her and not as welcoming as before. I'm watching from a distance right now to see if they can resolve it without too many hurt feelings before I step in.
If I can find time tomorrow I want to write about the field trip we took this week and why I have vowed to never take this particular group of children off school property again!
Southern Belle is a sweet girl, with excellent manners. I was actually raised by my grandmother, a former Southern Belle herself, and those good manners that are drilled into children in the South (yes ma'am, no sir, please, thank you, etc) are much more important to me than to most of my Midwest counterparts. So the fact that Southern Belle actually THANKS me for handing her a worksheet, and says "please may I go use the restroom ma'am?" makes me want to hold her up in front of the rest of the class and say "See this? THIS is what y'all are supposed to act like!"
However, Southern Bell does have her annoying little foibles. First and foremost, she is really not that interested in making friends with the other children. She would much rather follow me around, asking a zillion questions, and observing intently whatever it is I might be doing (even if I'm just idly standing there supervising recess). I try to tell myself that she's still new, she's intimidated by the other kids, and that as the oldest child who's younger siblings are both under 2 (which means she was an only child until recently) she is just more used to interacting with adults. Still, I find myself mildly annoyed when I trip over her for the 14th time that day and gently-but-firmly urging her to go find someone to play with. Someone? Anyone? Baby girl, I'm not your friend, I'm your teacher! Southern Belle's other somewhat annoying tendency is a true southern belle trait of being a fragile little flower. When she is thirsty, she cannot wait, she must have water right now or she will grasp her throat, swallow with contorted expressions of pain, and look at me with such distress in her eyes you would think she had just crossed the Sahara without a canteen. When she is hungry she will tell me approximately seven million times in this faint voice "My, Mrs. Kindergarten, I am just sooooooooo hungry! How much longer did you say it was until lunch?" When informed that lunch is still an hour away she rubs her belly with an anxious expression and says forlornly "alright.... I'll try to wait" as if there were any other option.
The other children just aren't quite certain what to make of Southern Belle. They were so excited to get a new friend in our class and for the first few days everyone wanted to be near her, play with her, soak in her new-ness. But as she has gently rebuffed them - no, I don't care to play right now, thank you - they have wandered off, losing interest. Now that Southern Belle has emerged from her shell a bit and is ready to make some friends the other girls are unsure of her and not as welcoming as before. I'm watching from a distance right now to see if they can resolve it without too many hurt feelings before I step in.
If I can find time tomorrow I want to write about the field trip we took this week and why I have vowed to never take this particular group of children off school property again!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Weekly Update, lazy version
I'm feeling a bit low this weekend - not sick, not depressed, just lazy and unwilling to do much thinking. So I'm going to take the easy way out. Instead of introducing a new friend, some updates on those already on the blog.
Toddler Girl FINALLY got pulled by the SPED teacher for testing. SPED brought her back after the first day of tests, poked her head in the door, rolled her eyes dramatically and said "No doubt, Mrs. Kindergarten, no doubt! She's going to be mine!" I'm now trying to keep the SPED ball rolling so that we can have all the testing done, all the paperwork filled out, all our ducks in a row before Parent/Teacher conferences the last week of Oct. Then I'll schedule her mother for a double conference time (30 mins instead of 15) and we will lay it all out for her. Or at least, that's my nefarious plan! I spoke briefly to a friend who also happens to be the Parents as Teachers facilitator who served Toddler Girl prior to school and she filled me in on some background I didn't know. Apparently Toddler Girl attended the preschool program at the Christian school two towns over last year and was kicked out because the teacher found her "completely unmanageable". To which I say bull - she's a handful, she requires near constant attention, and she can be a PITA, but not unmanageable. You just have to treat her like the 2-3 yr old that she is (mentally, anyway) and if you always keep it in the back of your mind that you are dealing with a toddler, not a kindergartner, then you will be fine. Of course - and yes, I know I'm being intolerant here - that particular "teacher" has absolutely no college hours, no credentials, and no previous teaching experience. As a matter of fact, prior to becoming a preschool teacher she had been one of our secretaries for years and years.
Thing One had a horrible day on Thursday and wound up being removed from my room by Mr. Pip. Ever since I put him on the behavior contract, and daily behavior report, he has really tried to "be good" and keep his card green. And most days he manages it with great success. However Thursday he returned from Art with a note in his hand - never a good sign! It seems that as the class was lining up to leave Thing One pushed his way into the middle of the line so that he could stand by a particular friend. Of course all the children behind he immediately started roaring in protest and Mrs. Art told him to go to the end of the line. Thing One screamed at her that he wouldn't, he was going to stand by Friend! So Mrs. Art wrote me a note, explaining what had happened, and requesting that Thing One flip a card for his behavior. Thing One handed me the note, watched me read it, and then threw himself on the floor in an all-out tantrum. Screams of "I don't WANT to flip a card! Mom will be MAD at me! I WON'T!" echoed up and down the hall as Thing One flailed, kicked, and all but frothed at the mouth. I waited for him to take a breath and then quickly interjected "Thing One! Stop it or I will call the principal to come get you!" He eyeballed me speculatively for a moment and decided to call my bluff by continuing his tantrum. Stepping over him (he was laying in the threshold of my classroom door) I buzzed the office and asked if any available administrator could please come to my room and take Thing One to calm down. Meanwhile the other children are huddled on our circle carpet, watching with wide eyes and bated breath. Thing One, realizing he had lost his audience, got up and moved into the room, where he threw himself into the rocking chair in my reading center, and continued his tantrum. I glanced down the hall, saw Mr. Pip emerge from the office, and said brightly to the others "Ok, let's go take a break!" which is teacher-speak for using the bathroom and getting a drink. In the hall I handed Mrs. Art's note to Mr. Pip, said sotto-voice "he's in full blown tantrum mode in my room" and then smiled sunnily at my worried little friends, trying to reassure them the adults were going to make everything better. Mr. Pip went into my room and then came back out, escorting a loudly sobbing Thing One up the hall. Thing One was gone for well over an hour and when he came back he was a much subdued little fellow. I had the joy of writing a note to Mom explaining briefly what had happened. Ironically if he would have just moved to the end of the line when Mrs. Art told him, without the verbal grandstanding, the whole situation could have been avoided!
Van Gogh had an unremarkable week. He has been working hard on controlling his outbursts and I have been giving him lots and lots of praise for being able to deal with frustration without screaming, kicking, or crying. He even removed himself to the quiet desk a time or two, when he knew he was about to lose it, which made me so proud of him!
Friday was our Fall Party. We have it at the beginning of October for two reasons - first, they have been in school long enough to have internalized most of the rules and I can relax a little and second, it's as far as possible from the "evil" Halloween. Oh the joys of living in the Bible Belt! When I first started teaching we had half-day Halloween parties, complete with a costume parade and contest. Now, because of so many parent complaints, we have insipid "Fall Parties" instead, and are discouraged from even mentioning Halloween too much. Blah! Anyway, as Fall Parties go, this one was a big hit! We had pizza, brownies, and organic chocolate chip cookies (most of the kids took one bite, made a horrible face, and threw those away!) along with apple juice for our snack. The mom in charge of games did a leaf craft project with them and then played a walking relay race and was even smart enough to have prizes for everyone at the end! The kids had fun without getting too wild, the room wasn't a total disaster after it was over, and I got to meet a couple of moms I had not met before. All in all, a success I'd say!
Oh! And I'm happy to report that Robby's leg seems all better and he made it through the week with minimal complaints. So I guess it was worth 3 of my precious 8 sick days to stay home with him and be a mom, right?
So that's the latest news from the trenches. Hey, if anyone is actually reading, would you do me a huge favor and leave a comment? Even if it's just "I'm here". I don't mind if I'm just writing for myself, but am curious if I have any readers at all...
Toddler Girl FINALLY got pulled by the SPED teacher for testing. SPED brought her back after the first day of tests, poked her head in the door, rolled her eyes dramatically and said "No doubt, Mrs. Kindergarten, no doubt! She's going to be mine!" I'm now trying to keep the SPED ball rolling so that we can have all the testing done, all the paperwork filled out, all our ducks in a row before Parent/Teacher conferences the last week of Oct. Then I'll schedule her mother for a double conference time (30 mins instead of 15) and we will lay it all out for her. Or at least, that's my nefarious plan! I spoke briefly to a friend who also happens to be the Parents as Teachers facilitator who served Toddler Girl prior to school and she filled me in on some background I didn't know. Apparently Toddler Girl attended the preschool program at the Christian school two towns over last year and was kicked out because the teacher found her "completely unmanageable". To which I say bull - she's a handful, she requires near constant attention, and she can be a PITA, but not unmanageable. You just have to treat her like the 2-3 yr old that she is (mentally, anyway) and if you always keep it in the back of your mind that you are dealing with a toddler, not a kindergartner, then you will be fine. Of course - and yes, I know I'm being intolerant here - that particular "teacher" has absolutely no college hours, no credentials, and no previous teaching experience. As a matter of fact, prior to becoming a preschool teacher she had been one of our secretaries for years and years.
Thing One had a horrible day on Thursday and wound up being removed from my room by Mr. Pip. Ever since I put him on the behavior contract, and daily behavior report, he has really tried to "be good" and keep his card green. And most days he manages it with great success. However Thursday he returned from Art with a note in his hand - never a good sign! It seems that as the class was lining up to leave Thing One pushed his way into the middle of the line so that he could stand by a particular friend. Of course all the children behind he immediately started roaring in protest and Mrs. Art told him to go to the end of the line. Thing One screamed at her that he wouldn't, he was going to stand by Friend! So Mrs. Art wrote me a note, explaining what had happened, and requesting that Thing One flip a card for his behavior. Thing One handed me the note, watched me read it, and then threw himself on the floor in an all-out tantrum. Screams of "I don't WANT to flip a card! Mom will be MAD at me! I WON'T!" echoed up and down the hall as Thing One flailed, kicked, and all but frothed at the mouth. I waited for him to take a breath and then quickly interjected "Thing One! Stop it or I will call the principal to come get you!" He eyeballed me speculatively for a moment and decided to call my bluff by continuing his tantrum. Stepping over him (he was laying in the threshold of my classroom door) I buzzed the office and asked if any available administrator could please come to my room and take Thing One to calm down. Meanwhile the other children are huddled on our circle carpet, watching with wide eyes and bated breath. Thing One, realizing he had lost his audience, got up and moved into the room, where he threw himself into the rocking chair in my reading center, and continued his tantrum. I glanced down the hall, saw Mr. Pip emerge from the office, and said brightly to the others "Ok, let's go take a break!" which is teacher-speak for using the bathroom and getting a drink. In the hall I handed Mrs. Art's note to Mr. Pip, said sotto-voice "he's in full blown tantrum mode in my room" and then smiled sunnily at my worried little friends, trying to reassure them the adults were going to make everything better. Mr. Pip went into my room and then came back out, escorting a loudly sobbing Thing One up the hall. Thing One was gone for well over an hour and when he came back he was a much subdued little fellow. I had the joy of writing a note to Mom explaining briefly what had happened. Ironically if he would have just moved to the end of the line when Mrs. Art told him, without the verbal grandstanding, the whole situation could have been avoided!
Van Gogh had an unremarkable week. He has been working hard on controlling his outbursts and I have been giving him lots and lots of praise for being able to deal with frustration without screaming, kicking, or crying. He even removed himself to the quiet desk a time or two, when he knew he was about to lose it, which made me so proud of him!
Friday was our Fall Party. We have it at the beginning of October for two reasons - first, they have been in school long enough to have internalized most of the rules and I can relax a little and second, it's as far as possible from the "evil" Halloween. Oh the joys of living in the Bible Belt! When I first started teaching we had half-day Halloween parties, complete with a costume parade and contest. Now, because of so many parent complaints, we have insipid "Fall Parties" instead, and are discouraged from even mentioning Halloween too much. Blah! Anyway, as Fall Parties go, this one was a big hit! We had pizza, brownies, and organic chocolate chip cookies (most of the kids took one bite, made a horrible face, and threw those away!) along with apple juice for our snack. The mom in charge of games did a leaf craft project with them and then played a walking relay race and was even smart enough to have prizes for everyone at the end! The kids had fun without getting too wild, the room wasn't a total disaster after it was over, and I got to meet a couple of moms I had not met before. All in all, a success I'd say!
Oh! And I'm happy to report that Robby's leg seems all better and he made it through the week with minimal complaints. So I guess it was worth 3 of my precious 8 sick days to stay home with him and be a mom, right?
So that's the latest news from the trenches. Hey, if anyone is actually reading, would you do me a huge favor and leave a comment? Even if it's just "I'm here". I don't mind if I'm just writing for myself, but am curious if I have any readers at all...
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