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!