I found I couldn't write about the start of kindergarten, because my emotions were too big, and my thoughts were too scary. Having been in the school system for years, I intellectually know that everything should be fine - but I also very well know just how bad it can get when it goes badly. And, well... I knew there was a very, very good chance things could go badly just as easily as they could go well.
It was hard to put my feelings into words. When my oldest went to kindergarten, I was nervous, worried, and a bit emotional for her growing up. Normal parent feelings.
With my youngest, who now has PANDAS? I was terrified. Although many of my worries sounded like typical new kindergarten parent worries, they went so much deeper than that. In a way, I couldn't share my worries because people would say "Don't worry, mom, it will be OK." But those reassuring platitudes just don't help. And they only serve to further separate me - or all of us parents on the other side of the fence - with those parents are the "right side". I honestly don't think my husband and I slept at all the night before school started. You over there, on the "right side" of the fence - the one with the green grass - you've never driven up to the school, scared to go in to hear the behavior report from the day.
The first day of kindergarten should be emotional on the parents because it means your baby is growing up - not because you are scared of how your child might react in a group, and how the adults may treat your child after she reacts. This disease stole the sweet childhood moment from us.
My poor PANDA. The first thing she said to me when I picked her up on the first day was, "Mommy! I didn't go to the principal's office!" A wave of relief came over me, and I cheered out loud in the after school room, even though I hadn't realized that I was worried about that.
Her favorite books to listen to are Junie B. Jones, Ramona Quimby books, Roscoe Riley, and Clementine - all strong characters who mean well but end up in big trouble. So, I suppose it wasn't a big surprise that she thought she'd end up there. But I think her fear was deeper than that. She knows that she has trouble controlling her anger - and she knows how preschool went. I think she was just as terrified as her father and I were of what could happen in kindergarten.
So far, so good. She says she loves school and her teacher, and for the last two days we've seen some of her old personality come out. The confident, happy girl we had a year ago. So far, two days in, kindergarten has been good for her.
Knock on wood.
Just having the first two days behind us has been a relief. I'm sleeping better - focusing on my work better - my anxiety is calm. Yet even now, at pick up time, I feel it coming back. Will we have another good day - or did things go wrong today?
Showing posts with label first day of school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label first day of school. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
Monday, September 14, 2015
No Nap? The horrors of the first day of kindergarten
About an hour into the first day of school a kindergartner began to sniffle, trying to hold back his tears. When I approached him he whispered, "I miss my Mommy, my Grandma, my Auntie and my sister. I want to go home!" I led him over to the schedule and showed him what he'd do today so he'd know when he got to go home to his family. As I finished his eyes widened. "Miss," he whispered, "you forgot nap time!"
"Oh, there isn't nap time in kindergarten," I had to say, feeling like the meanest woman on earth. "But there is quiet time. You can look at books." He didn't appreciate my feeble attempt to sell it. "No nap time?" he whispered, in true horror. Slowly and sadly I shook my head. "No nap time."
As adults it's easy for us to forget how rough the first days of kindergarten can be, especially for children who didn't go to preschool- or even those who did but went for half a day or were able to take a two hour nap. We are asking so much of those little five year olds in those first few days-- from sitting still for longer periods of time than they've ever been asked to do before, to going all day without a nap. (I know some five year olds have given up their afternoon naps by kindergarten, but some haven't.)
The boy's big eyes have haunted me all week. "No nap?" As though he was questioning what kind of place he'd been sent. Those eyes were a good reminder to not expect students to already be where I want them to be the first week of school. To slow down and teach everything I want to them to know and understand. To be slower and more understanding as children learn routines. Not to change my expectations of what they learn, but to be more understanding as they learn them. Before we know it October will be here and the students will all know the routines and be comfortable with what we expect from them. Until then, I need to keep in mind where they are coming from as a way to remind myself to be patient as we adapt together.
"Oh, there isn't nap time in kindergarten," I had to say, feeling like the meanest woman on earth. "But there is quiet time. You can look at books." He didn't appreciate my feeble attempt to sell it. "No nap time?" he whispered, in true horror. Slowly and sadly I shook my head. "No nap time."
As adults it's easy for us to forget how rough the first days of kindergarten can be, especially for children who didn't go to preschool- or even those who did but went for half a day or were able to take a two hour nap. We are asking so much of those little five year olds in those first few days-- from sitting still for longer periods of time than they've ever been asked to do before, to going all day without a nap. (I know some five year olds have given up their afternoon naps by kindergarten, but some haven't.)
The boy's big eyes have haunted me all week. "No nap?" As though he was questioning what kind of place he'd been sent. Those eyes were a good reminder to not expect students to already be where I want them to be the first week of school. To slow down and teach everything I want to them to know and understand. To be slower and more understanding as children learn routines. Not to change my expectations of what they learn, but to be more understanding as they learn them. Before we know it October will be here and the students will all know the routines and be comfortable with what we expect from them. Until then, I need to keep in mind where they are coming from as a way to remind myself to be patient as we adapt together.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
The Parenting Side of First Day Jitters
My stomach is tight and I'm having trouble breathing whenever I think about the first day of school next week. I've never quite felt like this about the start of the school year. What if all the kids are horrid and the teachers are mean? What if there isn't time to go to the bathroom or the directions aren't clear? What if there aren't any friends?
My daughter is getting ready for her first day of preschool. Until now she's been in a lovely in-home daycare with all of her best friends (whose mothers I am good friends with as well). She's been there since she was three months old and I always knew she was in phenomenal hands. My daycare provider spent so much time helping us transition her back when she was just a peanut that I barely had a worry when I dropped her off that first day.
Now? Now there seems to be so much more to worry about. It's not just if she'll nap or eat on time, but now I'm worried that she won't make friends or she'll make too many friends and not listen to the teacher. I'm worried she won't get along with the teacher or the teacher won't like her. I'm worried she won't understand the directions and then be so sensitive about being redirected that she'll be scared to ask for help the next time. Or that she won't go to the bathroom, or she will, but not make it to the potty. I'm scared she'll cry the whole first day and they'll just leave her in the corner telling her that they will be there when she's ready to calm down.
In my mind all of the other preschoolers are straight from Mean Girls and the teachers are different versions of the Trunchbull. And I know this is ridiculous because I work with kids and I know they are all wonderful and I know how caring and sweet early childhood teachers are. Still.
For four years I've been able to say I was a parent, and even said things like, "As a parent I know how you feel" to the parents of students I teach. That was a lie I didn't even know I was telling. I thought I understood, but I had no idea.
Every year I've been a part of helping separate the kindergartners from their parents, take them down the hallway and find their classroom. I've been a part of trying to get the parents to leave the school quickly, telling the parent (without realizing how condescending it sounds) "It's harder for you than it is for her." Maybe it is, but that comment doesn't make it any easier on the parent or the child.
What I didn't understand was that I was walking that parent's heart down the hallway, away from them and their strong instinct to protect their child from danger. I didn't understand that in the parents mind I was taking their baby and throwing her down the hall to the wolves.
I didn't know that the parent just wanted to know that their child was going to be ridiculously loved, challenged, encouraged, and kept safe. As I worry about whether or not my daughter is going to get all four of these elements from her teacher I've got a new appreciation for the parents who will be entering my own school next week with their precious cargo in tow. I hope I can convey the same amount of love and trust to their parents that I want for my child's own school experience.
My daughter is getting ready for her first day of preschool. Until now she's been in a lovely in-home daycare with all of her best friends (whose mothers I am good friends with as well). She's been there since she was three months old and I always knew she was in phenomenal hands. My daycare provider spent so much time helping us transition her back when she was just a peanut that I barely had a worry when I dropped her off that first day.
 |
| She thinks she's ready for college |
In my mind all of the other preschoolers are straight from Mean Girls and the teachers are different versions of the Trunchbull. And I know this is ridiculous because I work with kids and I know they are all wonderful and I know how caring and sweet early childhood teachers are. Still.
For four years I've been able to say I was a parent, and even said things like, "As a parent I know how you feel" to the parents of students I teach. That was a lie I didn't even know I was telling. I thought I understood, but I had no idea.
Every year I've been a part of helping separate the kindergartners from their parents, take them down the hallway and find their classroom. I've been a part of trying to get the parents to leave the school quickly, telling the parent (without realizing how condescending it sounds) "It's harder for you than it is for her." Maybe it is, but that comment doesn't make it any easier on the parent or the child.
What I didn't understand was that I was walking that parent's heart down the hallway, away from them and their strong instinct to protect their child from danger. I didn't understand that in the parents mind I was taking their baby and throwing her down the hall to the wolves.
I didn't know that the parent just wanted to know that their child was going to be ridiculously loved, challenged, encouraged, and kept safe. As I worry about whether or not my daughter is going to get all four of these elements from her teacher I've got a new appreciation for the parents who will be entering my own school next week with their precious cargo in tow. I hope I can convey the same amount of love and trust to their parents that I want for my child's own school experience.
Friday, August 21, 2015
It’s Back to School Time, Give a TeacherMom a Hug!- Guest Post by KJ Cabacar
This is a guest post from my amazing friend and colleague who rocks at both being a mother and being a teacher.
Dear Workingmom, Stay At Home Mom, CoWorker, Principal, Everyone out there besides us TeacherMoms-
I have seen, heard, and read so many open letters to stay at home moms, working moms, moms in general I can’t keep count. As I sit here surrounded by school supplies and back to school forms, I can’t help but think there has to be other moms out there like me. Somewhere there have to be others facing what I am facing and making it through because otherwise what hope do I have? There has to be more of me and like me they have need a hug this time of year too, desperately.
We are the TeacherMoms of the world. The moms that get up and send their kids to school so that they can stand at a classroom door and happily greet yours. We are the moms that attend numerous back to school nights and then get up and lead one of our own. We are the moms that pick up the items on the back to school list times three (one for our own kid, an extra set for the class, and one for our own classroom.) Yes, we choose to do this to ourselves year in and year out, not because it’s a job but because it’s a passion. And yet that doesn’t mean it is easy. It doesn’t mean we don’t need someone to look at us and say, "You are doing great! Keep loving those 30 plus kids you are in contact with day in and day out!"
Really, I don’t want your sympathy, because I love what I do, and that’s why I do it. I love that I get to create leaders, encourage champions, and share moments with the next generation. I love that my days are filled with fifth grader goofiness, recess, and yes even math with its fractions and long division! And I love that my nights are filled with bedtime stories, two year old grins and five year old secrets. I love my life and my world, but I could still use a hug.
See, when you are a Teachermom, teachers look at you and your child differently. Since teaching is our profession our child is naturally meant to be a perfect student. After all, we know what that should look like, so that’s what we should produce. Our children should automatically be reading before kindergarten, writing short stories before first grade, and solving for X by third grade. Right?! One of my coworkers recently did a DRA with my son because she needed to complete one for a summer class. She explained to her instructor that it was a student going into K and would it be okay. The instructor replied that most children going into K don’t know enough letters or sounds to get a secure DRA score. When my friend told her it was a teacher’s child, the response became, "Oh then they’ll be fine and it should work out great!"
Why?
What makes my child so very different? I work very hard not to be a teacher in my son’s eyes. I want to be his mommy, not the site word flashcard crazy lady! The pressure can be so high, I actually have a friend that will not, will not allow her children to tell their teacher that their mom is also a teacher.
As September rolls into October and the Facebook feeds get filled with the precious porch pictures with the blackboard signs announcing grade levels, remember to love on a TeacherMom. We can’t get that photo of our kids because we are busy getting our rooms ready to receive your kids. When you steal an hour from work to drop in for an author’s party, remember to love on a TeacherMom. We can’t steal those hours because we are hosting
those parties. And when you sign on to chaperon a field trip, remember to love on a TeacherMom. We can’t attend those field trips because we are arranging trips for your kids.
It’s Back to School Time, It’s Hug A TeacherMom Time!
Dear Workingmom, Stay At Home Mom, CoWorker, Principal, Everyone out there besides us TeacherMoms-
I have seen, heard, and read so many open letters to stay at home moms, working moms, moms in general I can’t keep count. As I sit here surrounded by school supplies and back to school forms, I can’t help but think there has to be other moms out there like me. Somewhere there have to be others facing what I am facing and making it through because otherwise what hope do I have? There has to be more of me and like me they have need a hug this time of year too, desperately.
We are the TeacherMoms of the world. The moms that get up and send their kids to school so that they can stand at a classroom door and happily greet yours. We are the moms that attend numerous back to school nights and then get up and lead one of our own. We are the moms that pick up the items on the back to school list times three (one for our own kid, an extra set for the class, and one for our own classroom.) Yes, we choose to do this to ourselves year in and year out, not because it’s a job but because it’s a passion. And yet that doesn’t mean it is easy. It doesn’t mean we don’t need someone to look at us and say, "You are doing great! Keep loving those 30 plus kids you are in contact with day in and day out!"
Really, I don’t want your sympathy, because I love what I do, and that’s why I do it. I love that I get to create leaders, encourage champions, and share moments with the next generation. I love that my days are filled with fifth grader goofiness, recess, and yes even math with its fractions and long division! And I love that my nights are filled with bedtime stories, two year old grins and five year old secrets. I love my life and my world, but I could still use a hug.
Why?
What makes my child so very different? I work very hard not to be a teacher in my son’s eyes. I want to be his mommy, not the site word flashcard crazy lady! The pressure can be so high, I actually have a friend that will not, will not allow her children to tell their teacher that their mom is also a teacher.
As September rolls into October and the Facebook feeds get filled with the precious porch pictures with the blackboard signs announcing grade levels, remember to love on a TeacherMom. We can’t get that photo of our kids because we are busy getting our rooms ready to receive your kids. When you steal an hour from work to drop in for an author’s party, remember to love on a TeacherMom. We can’t steal those hours because we are hosting
those parties. And when you sign on to chaperon a field trip, remember to love on a TeacherMom. We can’t attend those field trips because we are arranging trips for your kids.
It’s Back to School Time, It’s Hug A TeacherMom Time!
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
The Beginning of the Beginning
I'm not sure how it's happened that the first week and a half of school has happened and I haven't had a chance to blog. Keeping up with my three year old and my six month old paired with the beginning of the year exhaustion has left me with lots of blog posts running through my head and very little time to sit down and put them on paper. This year I'm running our local screening and working with a variety of students and classes throughout the building but I do not have my own caseload. I love working with different students in different grades, but my heart, especially this time of year, belongs to kindergarten.
If you are not a kindergarten teacher it is impossible to fully grasp the monster that is the first month of kindergarten. These teachers are taking babies- children who until a few weeks ago spent a blissful five years with their families, in day cares or preschools, napping in the afternoon, eating delicious snacks, playing games, and giggling with friends. Suddenly they are in a class with twenty plus other kids also competing for the adult's attention. They are expected to do whatever this adult says even if it makes no sense to them whatsoever, and they can't just wander around and play with whatever they see. If they want to speak they have to raise their hand, if they go anywhere it has to be in a line where they have to stand behind some kid who walks too slow and somehow not step on his feet. They have to walk in this line over and over again to practice for this thing called a fire drill- which is crazy because there is no fire but all the adults act like there is one and get really grouchy if they talk- even if they are simply pointing out that there is no fire. While practicing the fire drill they can actually see the playground and breath the fresh air but they cannot go running freely towards the slide. Even though it is RIGHT there. If they do the adults get crazy mad. They have to eat on a schedule. They can't nap. They have to stay in one room unless an adult says otherwise. They can't tell the teacher about their brand new shoes or their baby brother's birthday next week or that they don't like the color orange whenever the thought pops into their head. There are bells and signals and songs and books and directions and directions and directions. Their little worlds are completely turned upside down. Let's not forget that some of them barely speak English and are doing all of these crazy new rituals in a foreign language.
In a month the kindergarten classrooms will be smooth running machines. They will look like what we think school should look like. But the first few weeks? Those babies are having their worlds rocked. For those of us who get to pop in and out of the classrooms to help it's cute and entertaining. For their teachers- well, I hope they are all enjoying large glasses of wine and being pampered at home every evening. They are introducing students to their school careers, patiently and kindly setting the tone for their school journey. It's messy, exhausting and extremely important. Every one of those teachers should be given a full body massage at the end of September.
If you are not a kindergarten teacher it is impossible to fully grasp the monster that is the first month of kindergarten. These teachers are taking babies- children who until a few weeks ago spent a blissful five years with their families, in day cares or preschools, napping in the afternoon, eating delicious snacks, playing games, and giggling with friends. Suddenly they are in a class with twenty plus other kids also competing for the adult's attention. They are expected to do whatever this adult says even if it makes no sense to them whatsoever, and they can't just wander around and play with whatever they see. If they want to speak they have to raise their hand, if they go anywhere it has to be in a line where they have to stand behind some kid who walks too slow and somehow not step on his feet. They have to walk in this line over and over again to practice for this thing called a fire drill- which is crazy because there is no fire but all the adults act like there is one and get really grouchy if they talk- even if they are simply pointing out that there is no fire. While practicing the fire drill they can actually see the playground and breath the fresh air but they cannot go running freely towards the slide. Even though it is RIGHT there. If they do the adults get crazy mad. They have to eat on a schedule. They can't nap. They have to stay in one room unless an adult says otherwise. They can't tell the teacher about their brand new shoes or their baby brother's birthday next week or that they don't like the color orange whenever the thought pops into their head. There are bells and signals and songs and books and directions and directions and directions. Their little worlds are completely turned upside down. Let's not forget that some of them barely speak English and are doing all of these crazy new rituals in a foreign language.
In a month the kindergarten classrooms will be smooth running machines. They will look like what we think school should look like. But the first few weeks? Those babies are having their worlds rocked. For those of us who get to pop in and out of the classrooms to help it's cute and entertaining. For their teachers- well, I hope they are all enjoying large glasses of wine and being pampered at home every evening. They are introducing students to their school careers, patiently and kindly setting the tone for their school journey. It's messy, exhausting and extremely important. Every one of those teachers should be given a full body massage at the end of September.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
And we... survived?
No really, we did.
The first week is always this amalgonum of high hopes and expectations, reality, and survival. I can't help but get to the end of the week and thing, "Good grief, the kids have the same behaviors they had on the first day, they still don't know X, Y, and Z, and what's worse, I only got to half of my plans. This week was a disaster!"
It's hard to remind myself that four days of school doesn't magically make children into super star students. It's going to take a little more time, love, patience and direct teaching to change behaviors and get new knowledge in place. The first week has to be about building community, getting comfortable with routines, and letting each child find that they fit into the classroom.
I say this every year. I go into every year telling other teachers to relax, it's going to be OK, follow Responsive Classroom's First Six Weeks of School. And yet... the end of the first week always feels a bit like a failure. Really, it's more like the first water stop at the beginning of a 10 mile hike. You're already tired and you feel a blister coming. You've made meaningful progress but it's so tiny that you can't even appreciate it because the mountain ahead is so steep.
But we'll get there.
I have four friends returning to my room this year and three new friends. (Sadly, Rock Star has moved on to an older class. I still get to see her every day and she continues to amaze me with her growth and progress). However, losing three students and gaining the new three has really changed classroom dynamics. Not in a bad way, just in a different way. The class has a different feel and a different focus. The kids that were used to being the followers now have no choice but to be the leaders. Everyone is taking some time to get comfortable in their new roles. We'll gett there, but it's all about baby steps.
The first week is always this amalgonum of high hopes and expectations, reality, and survival. I can't help but get to the end of the week and thing, "Good grief, the kids have the same behaviors they had on the first day, they still don't know X, Y, and Z, and what's worse, I only got to half of my plans. This week was a disaster!"
It's hard to remind myself that four days of school doesn't magically make children into super star students. It's going to take a little more time, love, patience and direct teaching to change behaviors and get new knowledge in place. The first week has to be about building community, getting comfortable with routines, and letting each child find that they fit into the classroom.
But we'll get there.
I have four friends returning to my room this year and three new friends. (Sadly, Rock Star has moved on to an older class. I still get to see her every day and she continues to amaze me with her growth and progress). However, losing three students and gaining the new three has really changed classroom dynamics. Not in a bad way, just in a different way. The class has a different feel and a different focus. The kids that were used to being the followers now have no choice but to be the leaders. Everyone is taking some time to get comfortable in their new roles. We'll gett there, but it's all about baby steps.
Monday, August 12, 2013
August
Somewhere around a pool in New Mexico it happened. The excitement of the upcoming school year crept up on me. I was lounging poolside, reading for fun, minding my own business when I realized that I hadn't actually read a word on the page I was currently staring at. My mind had wandered into planning my first week's lessons, thinking about the kids I know I'll have and how to start the year on the right foot with them, and what books I knew I wanted to read day one.
I was worried that the excitement wouldn't come this year. I normally feel it around mid to late July, but this year, chasing after a toddler, I haven't had much time to think about school. Somehow, sitting around a pool doing nothing (the toddler happily across the country with her grandmother), it happened. I got excited.
Don't get me wrong. I have big plans to enjoy my last two weeks of summer. But among those plans will also be the excitement of the new school year, opening the classroom, introducing the routines, singing silly songs, and reading great books. I can't wait.
I was worried that the excitement wouldn't come this year. I normally feel it around mid to late July, but this year, chasing after a toddler, I haven't had much time to think about school. Somehow, sitting around a pool doing nothing (the toddler happily across the country with her grandmother), it happened. I got excited.
Don't get me wrong. I have big plans to enjoy my last two weeks of summer. But among those plans will also be the excitement of the new school year, opening the classroom, introducing the routines, singing silly songs, and reading great books. I can't wait.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Book Love
As I called my students over to the carpet today one of my little girls squealed with delight. She'd caught the corner of a Gerald and Piggy book and just KNEW we were going to dive into reading it. I hadn't actually planned on reading the book- I'd planned something much more boring- something that didn't involve me making different voices in front of the other teachers I'm still getting to know- but how do you NOT read Gerald and Piggy after such pure delight?
So we did.
I thought most of them weren't very engaged. Gerald and Piggy have a sense of humor that can be hard to follow for some students. I tried to make it as engaging as I could but I closed the book a bit disappointed. After the friend's original squeal I'd set my Gerald and Piggy expectations way too high.
Later in the day I was frantically getting things ready for the next activity while I had the children sitting on the rug having quiet time. Two little girls cuddled up beside each other.
"Hey," one whispered to the other, "I'll be the pig and you be the elephant!"
"OK!" the friend giggled.
Together they pointed and giggled and "read" the story the best they could. I hung back, amazed and in awe at the unprompted book talk occurring under my nose on the first day of school.
Did I mention it is going to be an awesome year?
So we did.
I thought most of them weren't very engaged. Gerald and Piggy have a sense of humor that can be hard to follow for some students. I tried to make it as engaging as I could but I closed the book a bit disappointed. After the friend's original squeal I'd set my Gerald and Piggy expectations way too high.
Later in the day I was frantically getting things ready for the next activity while I had the children sitting on the rug having quiet time. Two little girls cuddled up beside each other.
"Hey," one whispered to the other, "I'll be the pig and you be the elephant!"
"OK!" the friend giggled.
Together they pointed and giggled and "read" the story the best they could. I hung back, amazed and in awe at the unprompted book talk occurring under my nose on the first day of school.
Did I mention it is going to be an awesome year?
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
First day reflections
I am curled up on my couch, nursing a glass of wine and trying to fully comprehend everything that happened today.
My kids are ROCK STARS. I mean, I absolutely adore my students. We rock. The other teachers I work with rock as well. We had lots of smiles, lots of songs and dancing and singing. We read Pete the Cat twice and sang along both times. We read two Gerald and Piggy books and giggled at those crazy friends and their antics.
It's my first time teaching in what is considered an "Intellectual Disability Program" which essential means that the children in our program are not necessarily the children who live in the school's boundaries. Instead they are children from around the county who are bused to a school that houses a program like ours. I still have a lot to learn in terms of how these programs work.
For one, the busing is a bit overwhelming. All of our students ride buses that are different from the school's neighborhood buses since they are coming from all over. This means the bus routes are not as smoothly set as the buses for the neighborhood. The buses are late, which means we get our children late and it means they leave late. I can't even tell you how sad it was to see our children sitting so quietly with their heads down, fighting sleep at the end of a very long day, when all of their peers had gone home. I know it will get better (we've already gotten an email about the changes they've put into place for tomorrow) and it is just first day kinks, but it was rough to watch them patiently wait for buses that seemed to never come.
Then there is the schedule. We don't have one yet. We're still working out when our children are included in their other classes and when they stay with us, which means right now I don't have a full schedule. No lunch break or planning period for me. I ate half a sandwich during "quiet time" after lunch and finished it off on my frantic drive to pick up Baby Lipstick (I was a full 30 minutes late). Again, just first week kinks- I have no doubt it will get better- I always just forget how hard the first week really is with so much up in the air.
I hate to sound like I am complaining because seriously, my kids rocked today. I know I have a lot of areas where I can improve as a teacher and a lot I can learn about teaching a class full of children with intellectual disabilities, but I think it is going to be a great year.
Friday, September 9, 2011
First day
For the first time in nine years the first day of school came and went without me. I usually love the first day of school, despite the tears, difficulties figuring out schedules, and adjusting to new routines. My goal had been for the first day to be my last before maternity leave but of course my plans were nothing compared to the plans of my newborn daughter who decided to make her appearance on Saturday. My Tuesday was still filled with tears, difficulty with scheduling, getting to know a new face, and adjusting to new routines- just a little different than I'd expected.
So my maternity leave has started. I know I'll have lots of ideas to blog about when I'm home, I just might not find the time to get it written down.
So my maternity leave has started. I know I'll have lots of ideas to blog about when I'm home, I just might not find the time to get it written down.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
first day, take 1
The alarm went off this morning and I practically sprinted out of bed in excitement and nervous energy. This morning is my first day with my class (kind of) and I absolutely cannot wait to meet them and to start getting routines in place.
This summer my school is running a "Jump Start" program. Students in grades 1st-5th were invited to come to school for 3 weeks this summer to get extra help in reading, writing, and math. Since the county no longer has summer school it's our way of meeting the needs for kids who would otherwise qualify for summer school (which is actually even more fabulous because typically you send kids off to summer school and don't know what happens to them. Now our teachers are working with these kids in summer school and are able to provide exactly what we know they need and track their progress from the summer to the school year).
Our lucky kinders are only invited to attend for 2 weeks instead of 3. We've invited as many children as we could who registered for kindergarten with no preschool experience. These two weeks will give them a chance to learn to walk in the hallways, how to sit quietly on the rug and listen to a story, how to use playground equipment safetly with other children, and all those other school social norms that are difficult for children who have never had to participate in large group activities without their parents before.
One of the classes coming in, however, is my class. All ten of my future lovelies were invited, and today I think I could have as many as 8. This gives my students a chance to get to know routines and adjust to school before school actually starts. The days are only 3 hours long, which is probably the right amount of time for all of us (including me) to begin to warm up to each other. My long-term sub is co-teaching with me this week so that she gets to know the kids too. Once I'm gone she'll be a familiar face, and when I come back hopefully they'll still remember who I am.
So this morning is the first day of school, but only kind of. Only for 3 hours. I can make it. My entire lesson plans surround Responsive Classroom's the First Six Weeks of School, which normally goes well in a general education classroom. I hope I'm able to adapt quickly enough on the go to make it work for all the different needs in my classroom. I have no idea how these little ones will be able to sit on the rug and listen to me talk, or even how many of them will be able to use the materials I'll be introducing to them. If we do a guided discovery with crayons, but some of them cannot use crayons, hows that going to go.
Adapt, adapt, adapt, is going to be the name of the game.
Fingers crossed that everything goes smoothly and that we do not have any screamers, runners, throwers, or hitters. Hopefully I'll have the energy to blog tonight to let you know how it goes...
This summer my school is running a "Jump Start" program. Students in grades 1st-5th were invited to come to school for 3 weeks this summer to get extra help in reading, writing, and math. Since the county no longer has summer school it's our way of meeting the needs for kids who would otherwise qualify for summer school (which is actually even more fabulous because typically you send kids off to summer school and don't know what happens to them. Now our teachers are working with these kids in summer school and are able to provide exactly what we know they need and track their progress from the summer to the school year).
Our lucky kinders are only invited to attend for 2 weeks instead of 3. We've invited as many children as we could who registered for kindergarten with no preschool experience. These two weeks will give them a chance to learn to walk in the hallways, how to sit quietly on the rug and listen to a story, how to use playground equipment safetly with other children, and all those other school social norms that are difficult for children who have never had to participate in large group activities without their parents before.
One of the classes coming in, however, is my class. All ten of my future lovelies were invited, and today I think I could have as many as 8. This gives my students a chance to get to know routines and adjust to school before school actually starts. The days are only 3 hours long, which is probably the right amount of time for all of us (including me) to begin to warm up to each other. My long-term sub is co-teaching with me this week so that she gets to know the kids too. Once I'm gone she'll be a familiar face, and when I come back hopefully they'll still remember who I am.
So this morning is the first day of school, but only kind of. Only for 3 hours. I can make it. My entire lesson plans surround Responsive Classroom's the First Six Weeks of School, which normally goes well in a general education classroom. I hope I'm able to adapt quickly enough on the go to make it work for all the different needs in my classroom. I have no idea how these little ones will be able to sit on the rug and listen to me talk, or even how many of them will be able to use the materials I'll be introducing to them. If we do a guided discovery with crayons, but some of them cannot use crayons, hows that going to go.
Adapt, adapt, adapt, is going to be the name of the game.
Fingers crossed that everything goes smoothly and that we do not have any screamers, runners, throwers, or hitters. Hopefully I'll have the energy to blog tonight to let you know how it goes...
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
kid watching
i love how much you can learn about your students just watching them in the beginning of the year. their simple little actions, comments, and interactions can tell you so much.
in kindergarten we put out pattern blocks for the children to explore first thing in the morning. it's incredible to watch them use these in their own ways when they've been given no instruction on the "right" way to use them.
one little girl lined up all her pieces by color and shape as a way to sort them. one little boy built a 3-d castle, another girl worked on the floor plans of a house complete with a emergency rain drains. one boy stacked his on top of each other to make a tall tower, while another found a way to make a car that really rolled. immediately through this five minute exercise we were able to see who has used these before, who has good spatial relations, who likes to classify items into groups, and who may need some guidance with shapes and patterns. (and equally as important, who already understands how to share, and who may need some modeling...)
in first grade we put the names on the word wall today. just showing the students a name of one of their classmates and asking, "what do you notice?" told us so much about their literacy skills. some children just noticed the first letter (and one little one got that one wrong...), some wanted to connect the names by sounds. other children noticed patterns in their names- and found little words like 'me' and 'it'. some enjoyed just naming letters they could see.
i love picking up these little tidbits on them as i'm getting to know them as people and as learners. it gives me something to tie future lessons to, and let's me see what they're like as learners in a more unstructured environment. where does their mind go when they're given a slightly unstructured task?
in kindergarten we put out pattern blocks for the children to explore first thing in the morning. it's incredible to watch them use these in their own ways when they've been given no instruction on the "right" way to use them.
one little girl lined up all her pieces by color and shape as a way to sort them. one little boy built a 3-d castle, another girl worked on the floor plans of a house complete with a emergency rain drains. one boy stacked his on top of each other to make a tall tower, while another found a way to make a car that really rolled. immediately through this five minute exercise we were able to see who has used these before, who has good spatial relations, who likes to classify items into groups, and who may need some guidance with shapes and patterns. (and equally as important, who already understands how to share, and who may need some modeling...)
in first grade we put the names on the word wall today. just showing the students a name of one of their classmates and asking, "what do you notice?" told us so much about their literacy skills. some children just noticed the first letter (and one little one got that one wrong...), some wanted to connect the names by sounds. other children noticed patterns in their names- and found little words like 'me' and 'it'. some enjoyed just naming letters they could see.
i love picking up these little tidbits on them as i'm getting to know them as people and as learners. it gives me something to tie future lessons to, and let's me see what they're like as learners in a more unstructured environment. where does their mind go when they're given a slightly unstructured task?
jinxing myself to just write this...
breathing deeply...
actually, the first two days have been amazing so far. (knocking on wood while typing).
yesterday was the first time in over a year my brilliant co-teacher, our aids, and i breathed. last year's class, although we loved them dearly, resembled a kindergarten version of lord of the flies. you never know, when you have one of these classes, if it's the make up of the class or really, it's just you.
this new class- with their following directions, looking at us when we talk, playing with blocks instead of throwing them, walking in a line instead of sprinting down the hallway- is showing us that really, it wasn't us. it was them.
don't get me wrong. i adored last year's children.
individually
or in small groups.
but all together, there was something about the mix of personalities that turned even the most quiet child into a defiant, adult-hating five year old.
i'm not exaggerating.
i'm working with four of them again this year in my first grade class, and i can't tell you how much i love them & how excited i am to work with them again. i love every former student from that class who i walk by in the hallway. but, i don't miss them as a class.
yesterday morning i noticed the difference when a little child stretched his legs out when we were sitting on the rug. i asked him to go back to sitting criss cross applesauce, and,
*gasp*
he-did it!
i mean, he listened- and sat correctly.
unlike last year where i would expect a child to choose from the following options: 1) kick me 2) stand up and walk away from me 3) ignore me 4) fix his legs but immediately start singing loudly
this year...
in the hallway they are in line.
when we introduced pattern blocks they made patterns.
when we taught them to sit quietly they sat quietly.
when we showed them the monkey bars they used them as monkey bars- not as a way to kick their friends in the face.
when we blew the whistle at recess they lined up.
they are better at being kindergartners on day two of kindergarten than last year's class was on day 100 of kindergarten.
last year's group had a rough go. we began the year with the recess queen, whose brutal (yet silent and unprovoked) attacks on the others made us go through a full quarter where we couldn't guarantee any one's safety. by the end of the year we, or someone else, had called child services on almost every single child in the classroom. every child had a very difficult home life. we weren't teaching school- we were offering an escape from their worlds, and a place to learn basic social skills.
on the bright side, that group probably improved our teaching more than anything else. i listen to my amazing co-teacher's teacher language and am just in awe at how perfect it is. she's predicting every move- labeling everything they do- and using her words to prevent all sorts of disasters. we learned to do that last year as a survival technique, and so with this group it's working wonders.
every time we make eye contact with each other we knock on wood- we know we're thinking how incredible it is. we're waiting for the other shoe to drop.
they're not perfect- but no beginning kindergarten students are. the mere fact there have been no physical beatings of other children (there has been.... sharing! of materials! ) is a huge success.
now it's my turn for nap time :)
actually, the first two days have been amazing so far. (knocking on wood while typing).
yesterday was the first time in over a year my brilliant co-teacher, our aids, and i breathed. last year's class, although we loved them dearly, resembled a kindergarten version of lord of the flies. you never know, when you have one of these classes, if it's the make up of the class or really, it's just you.
this new class- with their following directions, looking at us when we talk, playing with blocks instead of throwing them, walking in a line instead of sprinting down the hallway- is showing us that really, it wasn't us. it was them.
don't get me wrong. i adored last year's children.
individually
or in small groups.
but all together, there was something about the mix of personalities that turned even the most quiet child into a defiant, adult-hating five year old.
i'm not exaggerating.
i'm working with four of them again this year in my first grade class, and i can't tell you how much i love them & how excited i am to work with them again. i love every former student from that class who i walk by in the hallway. but, i don't miss them as a class.
yesterday morning i noticed the difference when a little child stretched his legs out when we were sitting on the rug. i asked him to go back to sitting criss cross applesauce, and,
*gasp*
he-did it!
i mean, he listened- and sat correctly.
unlike last year where i would expect a child to choose from the following options: 1) kick me 2) stand up and walk away from me 3) ignore me 4) fix his legs but immediately start singing loudly
this year...
in the hallway they are in line.
when we introduced pattern blocks they made patterns.
when we taught them to sit quietly they sat quietly.
when we showed them the monkey bars they used them as monkey bars- not as a way to kick their friends in the face.
when we blew the whistle at recess they lined up.
they are better at being kindergartners on day two of kindergarten than last year's class was on day 100 of kindergarten.
last year's group had a rough go. we began the year with the recess queen, whose brutal (yet silent and unprovoked) attacks on the others made us go through a full quarter where we couldn't guarantee any one's safety. by the end of the year we, or someone else, had called child services on almost every single child in the classroom. every child had a very difficult home life. we weren't teaching school- we were offering an escape from their worlds, and a place to learn basic social skills.
on the bright side, that group probably improved our teaching more than anything else. i listen to my amazing co-teacher's teacher language and am just in awe at how perfect it is. she's predicting every move- labeling everything they do- and using her words to prevent all sorts of disasters. we learned to do that last year as a survival technique, and so with this group it's working wonders.
every time we make eye contact with each other we knock on wood- we know we're thinking how incredible it is. we're waiting for the other shoe to drop.
they're not perfect- but no beginning kindergarten students are. the mere fact there have been no physical beatings of other children (there has been.... sharing! of materials! ) is a huge success.
now it's my turn for nap time :)
Sunday, August 2, 2009
first day jitters...
There is nothing quite like the day the new year starts. Looking back, I'm not sure I was as nervous the day before I started middle school, or high school, as I am every year before starting a school year. After meeting the children on Friday they swim in your mind over the weekend, drifting in and out- the new characters who are about to consume your life for the next year.
Will they enter the room quietly, looking around, wide eyed and nervous? Or will they rush in as though they own the place, pulling supplies off the shelves? Will we have tears? Nervous moms? Will we make it to lunch? Lunch on time? Will we get all the students in from the playground?
The first day of my very first year teaching I had everything set up- and then completely forgot where I put it. My new students stared at me as I fumbled around, looking in the room for the calendar pieces, name tags, etc. I didn't find them until the end of the day.
Actually, I think that was my most uneventful first day of my career.
My last year in the classroom my smart cookie sat at her table chatting away. I gave the perfect responsive classroom prompt to raise her hand- teaching the class before the official school day had even started how we'll raise our hands in our classroom. As we 'practiced' hand raising my smart cookie shouted out "yeah, my kindergarten teacher was always sayin that. I never did it though".
Last year we (four of us- two aids, a classroom teacher, and me, the special education teacher) walked our class of new kindergartners down the hallway as though we were herding cats. The little ones who had never been in school before had no idea why we'd put them in a line- nor did they know the word "line" in their language. There were so many fancy colors on the walls, so much to look at, that they ran circles around us before we could even get to the classroom. At one point I explained to a student (who would soon be known as the recess queen) that we don't talk in the hallways and he shouted very loudly "WHY NOT?"
One year I had a kiddo throw his legs and arms into the door frame like a spider, blocking his way into the classroom as his mother tried to push him through, yelling in Spanish, while he screamed. That was only my second year of teaching.
Then there was my third year of teaching, when one of my little girls, who would later be known as the love of my life, went into the bathroom and screamed for 45 minutes. The other children in the class, bless them, were pretty much convinced that if they too entered the bathroom they would meet a similar fate. We had bathroom accidents a lot that year.
That same day I brought everyone back from lunch only to realize we'd left one little girl in the cafateria. I already felt horrible, but that little six year old wrote me a long, long letter about how awful it was that I forgot her. I was so excited by the literacy, but so ashamed I'd forgotten to count heads.
It hasn't been all bad- at least, I don't think it has. First days are always such a blur of excitment, nervousness, tears, timid smiles, and hugs. I never get much sleep the night before, but I know I'll catch up when I crawl into bed around 7pm when it is all over...
Will they enter the room quietly, looking around, wide eyed and nervous? Or will they rush in as though they own the place, pulling supplies off the shelves? Will we have tears? Nervous moms? Will we make it to lunch? Lunch on time? Will we get all the students in from the playground?
The first day of my very first year teaching I had everything set up- and then completely forgot where I put it. My new students stared at me as I fumbled around, looking in the room for the calendar pieces, name tags, etc. I didn't find them until the end of the day.
Actually, I think that was my most uneventful first day of my career.
My last year in the classroom my smart cookie sat at her table chatting away. I gave the perfect responsive classroom prompt to raise her hand- teaching the class before the official school day had even started how we'll raise our hands in our classroom. As we 'practiced' hand raising my smart cookie shouted out "yeah, my kindergarten teacher was always sayin that. I never did it though".
Last year we (four of us- two aids, a classroom teacher, and me, the special education teacher) walked our class of new kindergartners down the hallway as though we were herding cats. The little ones who had never been in school before had no idea why we'd put them in a line- nor did they know the word "line" in their language. There were so many fancy colors on the walls, so much to look at, that they ran circles around us before we could even get to the classroom. At one point I explained to a student (who would soon be known as the recess queen) that we don't talk in the hallways and he shouted very loudly "WHY NOT?"
One year I had a kiddo throw his legs and arms into the door frame like a spider, blocking his way into the classroom as his mother tried to push him through, yelling in Spanish, while he screamed. That was only my second year of teaching.
Then there was my third year of teaching, when one of my little girls, who would later be known as the love of my life, went into the bathroom and screamed for 45 minutes. The other children in the class, bless them, were pretty much convinced that if they too entered the bathroom they would meet a similar fate. We had bathroom accidents a lot that year.
That same day I brought everyone back from lunch only to realize we'd left one little girl in the cafateria. I already felt horrible, but that little six year old wrote me a long, long letter about how awful it was that I forgot her. I was so excited by the literacy, but so ashamed I'd forgotten to count heads.
It hasn't been all bad- at least, I don't think it has. First days are always such a blur of excitment, nervousness, tears, timid smiles, and hugs. I never get much sleep the night before, but I know I'll catch up when I crawl into bed around 7pm when it is all over...
Sunday, August 3, 2008
success!!
or something that looks like it may, one day, be something somewhat like it.
on friday when my co-teacher rang the chime for the students to stop and look they did. hands in the air, one finger over their mouth, eyes on their teacher. not just once, but over and over again.
when i told a child it was time to go to the thinking spot he only argued once. when he returned to the carpet he was quiet.
when we gave instructions to students they didn't turn their heads, stick their tongues out, or say, "i don't want to".
i overheard one friend say, "i'm on the silver line!" when walking down the hallway. and he was! he wasn't trying to run out of line, grab artwork from the walls, or go into another classroom!
my head was not completely pounding when i left for my final.
it took 5 days of consistency, of calm explanation, of silently leading children to time-out, of reviewing rules over and over again, of practicing the rules, the routines, of explaining what we expect. we broke down exactly how to sit on the carpet. step by step. over and over. how to line up. how to put away their backpack. how to be a kindergartner.
but it worked.
not perfect, far from an angelic class of kiddos, but a far cry from monday, or tuesday. i felt like skipping out of school. they are fantastic kids, great personalities, great stories to tell, great ideas to flow out of their heads as we put information in. now that they'll look at us when we ask them to, it is going to be a fabulous year.
hallelujah.
on friday when my co-teacher rang the chime for the students to stop and look they did. hands in the air, one finger over their mouth, eyes on their teacher. not just once, but over and over again.
when i told a child it was time to go to the thinking spot he only argued once. when he returned to the carpet he was quiet.
when we gave instructions to students they didn't turn their heads, stick their tongues out, or say, "i don't want to".
i overheard one friend say, "i'm on the silver line!" when walking down the hallway. and he was! he wasn't trying to run out of line, grab artwork from the walls, or go into another classroom!
my head was not completely pounding when i left for my final.
it took 5 days of consistency, of calm explanation, of silently leading children to time-out, of reviewing rules over and over again, of practicing the rules, the routines, of explaining what we expect. we broke down exactly how to sit on the carpet. step by step. over and over. how to line up. how to put away their backpack. how to be a kindergartner.
but it worked.
not perfect, far from an angelic class of kiddos, but a far cry from monday, or tuesday. i felt like skipping out of school. they are fantastic kids, great personalities, great stories to tell, great ideas to flow out of their heads as we put information in. now that they'll look at us when we ask them to, it is going to be a fabulous year.
hallelujah.
Monday, July 28, 2008
things i heard myself saying today...
~we don't pick our noses in school. it will get germs everywhere. please take your finger out of your nose.
~thank you for taking your finger out of your nose! now, please go wash your hands.
~please sit down... you don't want to?... um, i'm sorry, its time to sit down. n o w.
~please sit where your name tag is. that's emily's name, you may not take her name. you have your own name. give emily back her name. no, do not take erin's name either. please go back to your own name.
~where are you going? no, you're not going home right now. i'm sorry your bored, but you may not go home yet. SIT.
~i'm glad you like school but no, you may not stay here all night. even the teachers have to go home. really, we do.
~we don't pick our noses in school. it will get germs everywhere. please take your finger out of your nose.
~thank you for taking your finger out of your nose! now, please go wash your hands.
~please sit down... you don't want to?... um, i'm sorry, its time to sit down. n o w.
~please sit where your name tag is. that's emily's name, you may not take her name. you have your own name. give emily back her name. no, do not take erin's name either. please go back to your own name.
~where are you going? no, you're not going home right now. i'm sorry your bored, but you may not go home yet. SIT.
~i'm glad you like school but no, you may not stay here all night. even the teachers have to go home. really, we do.
i love my job
although there are days that sometimes makes me wonder about my own sanity.
i love kindergartners who have never been in any sort of preschool program before. they have no idea what it means to stand in line, wait their turn, or that they supposedly have to immediately comply with every command an adult gives them, even if the adult doesn't give a reason.
as we finally had all our kiddos rounded up this morning and were walking in line toward the classroom one little boy just kept darting all over the hallway. it didn't matter how many times i took his hand and led him back in line, or how many times i said, "stay on the silver line behind this boy's book bag. " i even explained what behind meant. he'd nod knowingly, and then see something interesting and dart away, looking confused when i brought him back in line.
he kept trying to talk to me and i kept saying, "i'd love to hear that, but we can't talk in the hallway"
"really?" he almost yelled. "why not? hey, i wonder if the classroom is going to be scary. because, you know, monsters don't like me very much"
I am so in love with this kid.
in fact, i'm so in love with all of them.
i love kindergartners who have never been in any sort of preschool program before. they have no idea what it means to stand in line, wait their turn, or that they supposedly have to immediately comply with every command an adult gives them, even if the adult doesn't give a reason.
as we finally had all our kiddos rounded up this morning and were walking in line toward the classroom one little boy just kept darting all over the hallway. it didn't matter how many times i took his hand and led him back in line, or how many times i said, "stay on the silver line behind this boy's book bag. " i even explained what behind meant. he'd nod knowingly, and then see something interesting and dart away, looking confused when i brought him back in line.
he kept trying to talk to me and i kept saying, "i'd love to hear that, but we can't talk in the hallway"
"really?" he almost yelled. "why not? hey, i wonder if the classroom is going to be scary. because, you know, monsters don't like me very much"
I am so in love with this kid.
in fact, i'm so in love with all of them.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
new markers, new folders, and a new cast of characters
it's the first-day-of-school-eve and now, a few years into teaching and not even a classroom teacher i am filled with the first-day jitters. this morning in church thoughts of the first day snuck into my head and i haven't shaken them. the excitement of new friends, the chaos of matching children to classrooms, the brand new markers, tissue boxes, folders, kindergarten moms leaving their babies for the first time, brand new fifth graders enjoying the beginning of their reign as 'the oldest in the school'.
i have no memory of the first day of school last year, or for that matter, any of my first days from my teaching career. snippets come back to me occasionally~ my first day my first year staring at the little ones staring back at me on the rug and realizing this is it, i'm in charge.
or last year, my first day in special ed, helping my new charges find their way to the kindergarten rooms. and that's where my memory stops. no recollection of how on earth the fabulous kindergarten teachers managed to teach their children to walk down the hallway, sit quietly, or go through the lunch line. all in one day! i wish i could be more help this year, wish i could anticipate the problems, foresee what lessons that will need to be taught before others, remember the important aspects of kindergarten. but i don't.
and so my stomach has the same butterflies it has every year, knowing i'm about to go into something i'm not fully prepared for, something i can't quite remember, something i know i've survived before, and will survive again.
the night before my cousin began her very first year teaching she opened a fortune cookie which read "a cast of characters awaits you". i laughed when i saw it, because i knew the first graders she was going to meet the next day would fit the requirement. i always think of that fortune before a school year full of new kiddos starts and wonder what sort of cast is awaiting us tomorrow.
i have no memory of the first day of school last year, or for that matter, any of my first days from my teaching career. snippets come back to me occasionally~ my first day my first year staring at the little ones staring back at me on the rug and realizing this is it, i'm in charge.
or last year, my first day in special ed, helping my new charges find their way to the kindergarten rooms. and that's where my memory stops. no recollection of how on earth the fabulous kindergarten teachers managed to teach their children to walk down the hallway, sit quietly, or go through the lunch line. all in one day! i wish i could be more help this year, wish i could anticipate the problems, foresee what lessons that will need to be taught before others, remember the important aspects of kindergarten. but i don't.
and so my stomach has the same butterflies it has every year, knowing i'm about to go into something i'm not fully prepared for, something i can't quite remember, something i know i've survived before, and will survive again.
the night before my cousin began her very first year teaching she opened a fortune cookie which read "a cast of characters awaits you". i laughed when i saw it, because i knew the first graders she was going to meet the next day would fit the requirement. i always think of that fortune before a school year full of new kiddos starts and wonder what sort of cast is awaiting us tomorrow.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
out-of-life message
At the end of the day I was standing in the first grade hallway with my co-workers going over the ins and outs of the day. One of my co-workers laughed and said, "My poor husband. I go home and don't want to talk. I don't want to be playful and joke. I want to watch tv and be alone."
I felt an instant wave of relief. I'm not the only evil, terrible wife who is a completely moody, unresponsive and quiet person lately. Suddenly everyone began talking about how we all were having similar experiences. We manage to hold it together during the school day, keeping ourselves in check, not showing emotion, stating ridiculous statements with a complete sense of calm. "We use our feet for walking, not for kicking." "Scissors are for cutting paper, not for cutting hair. Show me how to use the scissors like a first grader. No? OK, today you may not use the scissors. You may try again tomorrow. I'm sorry you hate me for taking away the scissors. I love you very much."
By the time we get home we can't possible hold it in any longer. Some wives mentioned yelling for no reason, taking their frustration out on their husbands. Others mentioned locking themselves in a room for "me time". It wont last forever, just in the beginning of the school year. Soon the kids will know how to push in chairs, line up, hold scissors, and how to raise their hands (even if they forget sometimes). Soon the parents will stop reminding you how to blow their child's nose (we hope) . Soon we'll go home with as much energy as we use during the day.
My husband has been wonderful. On Tuesday I sent a text message that read "Pls cook me dinner. Am tired." Wed. we had friends over for dinner and he cooked and hosted while I lay tranquilized on the couch, hoping my friends wouldn't notice I've forgotten how to have adult conversations. Still, I feel guilty. Someone can only be fantastic for so long without wanting his real wife back. I don't know how people do this job when they have children. You are my heroes.
I've always wanted to post an automatic email reply during the month of August just to warn people that it's my one month of being socially unavailable.
"I am currently beginning the school year and am away from my life right now. I am unable to attend to social obligations unless you are six. I will be back at the end of August and look forward to seeing you then."
I felt an instant wave of relief. I'm not the only evil, terrible wife who is a completely moody, unresponsive and quiet person lately. Suddenly everyone began talking about how we all were having similar experiences. We manage to hold it together during the school day, keeping ourselves in check, not showing emotion, stating ridiculous statements with a complete sense of calm. "We use our feet for walking, not for kicking." "Scissors are for cutting paper, not for cutting hair. Show me how to use the scissors like a first grader. No? OK, today you may not use the scissors. You may try again tomorrow. I'm sorry you hate me for taking away the scissors. I love you very much."
By the time we get home we can't possible hold it in any longer. Some wives mentioned yelling for no reason, taking their frustration out on their husbands. Others mentioned locking themselves in a room for "me time". It wont last forever, just in the beginning of the school year. Soon the kids will know how to push in chairs, line up, hold scissors, and how to raise their hands (even if they forget sometimes). Soon the parents will stop reminding you how to blow their child's nose (we hope) . Soon we'll go home with as much energy as we use during the day.
My husband has been wonderful. On Tuesday I sent a text message that read "Pls cook me dinner. Am tired." Wed. we had friends over for dinner and he cooked and hosted while I lay tranquilized on the couch, hoping my friends wouldn't notice I've forgotten how to have adult conversations. Still, I feel guilty. Someone can only be fantastic for so long without wanting his real wife back. I don't know how people do this job when they have children. You are my heroes.
I've always wanted to post an automatic email reply during the month of August just to warn people that it's my one month of being socially unavailable.
"I am currently beginning the school year and am away from my life right now. I am unable to attend to social obligations unless you are six. I will be back at the end of August and look forward to seeing you then."
Monday, July 30, 2007
images of the first day of school ~ first 45 minutes
* racing after kiddos piling out of cars, planting stickers on them to tell their teacher how they'll go home. Hoping we actually put the correct mode of transportation on each child.
*explaining to parents who speak many different languages that they cannot park their car in the middle of our parking lot, even if it is their child's first day of kindergarten.
* Walking one of my new charges to the gym where all of the children are waiting to be dismissed to their classes. Listening to him say, "Lots and lots! Lots and lots!" over and over again, I assume in reference to the large amounts of kids and parents crammed into our gym.
*Matching kindergartners with their teachers and classes in the gym, keeping them in line, quiet, and dodging the many cameras out to capture the first day.
*Calming down a little girl who thought she was going to summer school today. "I'm suppose to be in Miss Dodds class" stated over and over again. "I'm ready for my old class"
*Teaching kindergartens not to open the bathroom door if someone else is in there.
*explaining to parents who speak many different languages that they cannot park their car in the middle of our parking lot, even if it is their child's first day of kindergarten.
* Walking one of my new charges to the gym where all of the children are waiting to be dismissed to their classes. Listening to him say, "Lots and lots! Lots and lots!" over and over again, I assume in reference to the large amounts of kids and parents crammed into our gym.
*Matching kindergartners with their teachers and classes in the gym, keeping them in line, quiet, and dodging the many cameras out to capture the first day.
*Calming down a little girl who thought she was going to summer school today. "I'm suppose to be in Miss Dodds class" stated over and over again. "I'm ready for my old class"
*Teaching kindergartens not to open the bathroom door if someone else is in there.
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