Two For One ISS Special

Ugh, yesterday was quite possibly the worst Friday of my teaching career, EVER! Ok, that is, barring the horrid field trip earlier this year - so maybe second worst Friday evah!

Van Gogh has had a horrible week, full of screams, tears, thrown objects, and bad choices. He has flipped cards, visited the counselor, taken home unhappy notes from me (because his mother does not answer her phone EVER) - nothing stopped him. It kills me because I know some issue is eating him alive and he will not, or cannot, tell me what is wrong. He's just angry at the world and lashing out at everyone within 10 feet of him, verbally and physically. I want to help him, not punish him, but he won't let me in or possibly he doesn't even actually know what is bothering him - either way, he is drowning in his own emotions. Yesterday was the straw that finally broke the proverbial camel's back.

It all started when Tattlin' Queen came in and said "Look Mrs. Kindergarten, somehow Van Gogh's math paper got into my folder yesterday. My mom said to bring it back to him." I praised her for bringing it back and asked her to give it to him. Van Gogh took one look at it and began screaming at Tattlin' Queen for "stealing" his worksheet. She immediately welled up in tears and came running to bury her head in my waist, Van Gogh following behind scarlet faced, waving the worksheet, and ranting about how stealers go to jail. I gave Tattlin' Queen a quick hug, moved her behind me and got literally 2 inches from Van Gogh's face. Once we were eye to eye and practically nose to nose I snapped "STOP THAT RIGHT NOW! She did you a FAVOR! She did not STEAL your paper, it somehow got into the wrong folder and instead of throwing it away she brought it back to you. You should be THANKING HER, not making her cry!" Van Gogh paused briefly, then began to mutter about how yes, she did steal his paper, and he wasn't going to thank her for stealing it, blah, blah, blah. Completely frustrated I marched over to the intercom button, snapped it on, and asked for either Mrs. Pop or Mrs. Counselor to come to my room immediately. Van Gogh panicked and started wailing "Why do you need them? I'm sorry, I'll stop, don't call Mrs. Pop!" and then collapsed into his chair into a sobbing screaming ball. Within seconds Mrs. Counselor appeared at my door. I quickly filled her in, she shook her head, and escorted Van Gogh from the room. He was gone about 10 minutes and came back tear stained but subdued. He gave stilted apologies to Tattlin' Queen and me, then hurried to finish his morning paper before it was time for reading groups to begin.

Hoping that was it for the day, I bravely forged through the rest of the morning. Toddler Girl rejoined us just before morning recess, as always. She was proudly waving a small bag of fruit snacks that Mrs. SPED had given her for some good behavior. I told her to put them on her table and get her coat on, that she could eat them during snack later in the day. The class tumbled out the door to recess and I breathed a sigh, so grateful it was my 1 day a week off of recess duty and that I had 15 minutes of peace and quiet. When the class returned Toddler Girl came rushing up to me, frantically demanding "Where my candy?" Distracted, because I was setting out the pieces for the math game, I murmured "on your table honey, go put your coat away." Toddler Girl began to dance in agitation next to me and said insistently "No! Where my candy?!?" I looked over at her table and noticed that sure enough, the bag was gone. I said "Hmmm... did it fall on the floor? Is it under someone else's coat?" and as I started to walk over to the table to investigate one of my little girls rushed over, pulled on my arm, and then whispered in my ear "Tattlin' Queen took it. I saw her eating it at recess."

I glanced immediately over at Tattlin' Queen, to see her watching me cautiously, rather like a wild animal about to bolt from danger. "Tattlin' Queen, please come here" I said in a no nonsense tone of voice. Reluctantly, ever so slowly, she made her way over to me and stared at the ground. In my best teacher voice I said "Tattlin' Queen? Did you take Toddler Girl's candy and eat it?" "No!" she insisted, looking at the ground, in a breath that smelled strongly of fruit snacks. "Tattlin' MiddleName Queen! If you lie to me, you are in even bigger trouble! You SMELL like candy. Did you take Toddler Girl's candy and eat it?" Tattlin' Queen looked at me and slowly nodded yes, then rushed out "But she said I could have it." At that Toddler Girl began to wail "NO! You not have it! It MY candy! I good girl, I get candy!" I looked back at Tattlin' Queen and said in my most dramatically sad tone of voice "I am so disappointed in you. You stole Toddler Girl's candy and made her so sad. You will need to go talk to Mrs. Pop about this."

Side bar - this is far from the first time Tattlin' Queen has stolen in our class. As a matter of fact, Sticky Fingers would be an equally valid blog name for her. Chapstick, pencils, stickers, artwork - it's all fair game to her. I have had her flip cards, talked to her mother - the petty thievery continues. Which is probably why Van Gogh made such a big deal about her "stealing" his math paper. Except Tattlin' Queen does not willingly return that which she has taken, so I'm 99% sure it actually was a mistake. Ironically, I had her big sister in class 3 years ago. If I had been blogging then she would have been the original Sticky Fingers! That year whenever anything turned up missing I would pat her down and/or search her backpack before I even bothered looking around the room. 9 times out of 10 it would be in her possession and she would look at me with those huge baby blues and claim to have NO IDEA how that got into her pocket. As if other people's chapsticks (her favorite target) or treasure box items just magically appeared in her pocket and she couldn't stop them. Can't help but wondering what adult behavior has been modeled for these girls that both sisters see stealing as a perfectly valid way to get what you want in life...

So off Tattlin' Queen went, office pass in her hand, and tears rolling down her face. About this time the aide from Mrs. SPED's room appeared to pick up Toddler Girl. I filled her in on the incident and asked her if she could please ask Mrs. SPED to replace the candy, or if she couldn't replace it, email me so I could replace it with something from my stash.

We made it through our math lesson with relatively few incidents or outbursts - Van Gogh started to tantrum once, but I loudly cleared my throat and looked pointedly at the intercom button and he pulled his shit back together. Toddler Girl reappared, triumphantly waving a new pack of fruit snacks in her hand. I told her to put them on my desk, where they would be safe, until snack time. Then I had to giggle because she didn't just put them on my desk, she shoved them under a stack of worksheets and then announced "There! No one find now! SAFE!" I breathed a sigh of relief on the way to lunch - the most academic part of our day was over, it's fairly easy coasting from there until the dismissal bell. I should have known I was jinxing myself!

At the end of lunch I heard screams coming from my class' table. Leaving the table where the teachers eat, I rushed over to find a scuffle going on between Van Gogh and Mr. Perfect. Seems that Mr. Perfect had accidentally spit on Van Gogh's glasses - you know, when you talk and suddenly a little spit flies out by accident - and Van Gogh took this as a personal insult and a reason to wrap his hands around Mr. Perfect's neck and shake him like a rag doll. Mr. Perfect was screaming and crying in terror and pain, Van Gogh was screaming and crying in blind fury, and the rest of the lunch room was dead quiet, staring at our table in disbelief. Of course, not a principal in sight, even though there is ALWAYS supposed to be one of the in the lunchroom at all times! I separated the boys, with the help of Mrs. Counselor - she took Mr. Perfect off to the nurse to have the red marks on his neck examined, I frog-marched Van Gogh to the office. As it happened Mrs. Pop was standing right there by the secretary's desk, so when we tumbled in the door with Van Gogh screeching "I'm sorry, I SAID I'm sorry, I don't WANT to see Mrs. Pop, why can't I just be SORRY?" she looked up in shocked disbelief and was able to quickly take over. I ground out the story between clenched teeth and she turned and stared at Van Gogh as if he were a bug. "Ok, Mrs. Kinder, I'll take it from here" she said, then added "Please send his things up to the office, you will not see him again until Monday." Which meant Van Gogh was headed for a very unpleasant afternoon of a phone call home followed by ISS and I was anticipating a lovely, quiet, scream free rest of my Friday.

When we returned to the room and the class realized that both Van Gogh and Tattlin' Queen were in ISS for the remainder of the day (I refer to it as School Time Out) they were a very subdued bunch of kids. We wound up having yet another class meeting about treating others the way you want to be treated and making good choices and I'm sure many of them had fabulous stories to tell their parents last night!

Then, just to make sure the day sucked as much as possible, Farm Boy's mom, who also teaches at our school, stopped by my room yet AGAIN to ask me if I thought he needed to be retained. She's made it clear that's what she wants to do, I don't know how to tell her that retaining him is not going to fix his particular set of issues. He's a great kid, sweet, cheerful, always happy to help or share with anyone - and has one of the worst undiagnosed cases of ADD I've ever seen! Poor Farm Boy can't focus on anything for any length of time, it's not that he's being naughty, he simply cannot do it. Mom doesn't want to hear this isn't something he will grow out of, she wants it all to be immaturity, and I have to tread very carefully because she's a mom/coworker.

62 days left in this school year and quite frankly, the end of May cannot come soon enough! This will not be one of those classes that I mourn giving to First Grade, this one be one of those classes I all but push out the door on the last day, merrily chirping "Bye! Have a great summer! Good luck in first grade!" while eyeing the First Grade teachers and evilly thinking "just wait!"