Indoor recess makes us think that Mrs. N's scotch tape not only can, but should be used to tape our noses and mouths shut.
It's days like these that make me think I should have become an accountant.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Day 3
Indoor Recess: Day three and counting: -19 degrees
There is gasping with joy when a jar of suckers is held up. Only the gasping doesn't end, because they're entertained by trying to outdo each other. They may pass out before they actually stop.
We're so watching a movie until I can ship them off to Art.
There is gasping with joy when a jar of suckers is held up. Only the gasping doesn't end, because they're entertained by trying to outdo each other. They may pass out before they actually stop.
We're so watching a movie until I can ship them off to Art.
Monday, January 12, 2009
...and so it begins...
I'm really not sure I like winter anymore. It started snowing way early this year, and just hasn't stopped. And now...the cold begins.
We're looking at indoor recess all week long, folks.
And that's never pretty.
***update***
It's noon and I'm listening to the fourth graders storm outside for recess.
Yahooo!!
We're looking at indoor recess all week long, folks.
And that's never pretty.
***update***
It's noon and I'm listening to the fourth graders storm outside for recess.
Yahooo!!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Broken again
Sometimes I wonder...how do the teachers who have been doing this job for 20 or 30 years have any heart left? Every year seems to bring another student who takes a slice of that heart.
Yesterday it was D. I've been fighting all year to have him tested for special education services. The child can tell you the prime factorization of 84, but can hardly read or write, which is an enormous red flag for possible learning problems.
But...there are issues. Mom and Dad are divorced and NOT amicably. Older sister isn't even allowed to see Dad because he molested her, but the judge let the boys stay, saying they'd survive.
D was called down to the office yesterday. I didn't know why. He came back during recess. "Doooo you wanna know why I had to go down to the office?
"If you'd like to tell me."
"It was social services people. But for Mom's house this time."
"...oh..."
"It's all cause Doug was hitting my sister, like really hitting her, like he wouldn't stop."
"Who's Doug?"
"Doug is um...he's the...well...the one my mom likes."
He left then, in true ADD fashion - distracted by something else - while I sat there feeling kicked in the gut. How does this kid have a chance? Dad's an abuser, Mom seems to have a pattern of relationships with abusive men, relationships that obviously leave her kids confused since D has no idea what to even call the latest guy - is he a boyfriend, fiance, what? All I can do is cry out to Jesus for this child - that somewhere along the line, he'll see what normal looks like, he'll know he can make different and hopefully better choices than his parents did, he'll know that this lifestyle isn't all there is, that there's more, that there's hope.
I cry out - and then I ask him if there's anything I can do for him. A puzzled stare. "Nope, I'm fine," he says, and I realize he probably wouldn't know what fine was if it walked up and hugged him.
Another piece of my heart, gone.
Yesterday it was D. I've been fighting all year to have him tested for special education services. The child can tell you the prime factorization of 84, but can hardly read or write, which is an enormous red flag for possible learning problems.
But...there are issues. Mom and Dad are divorced and NOT amicably. Older sister isn't even allowed to see Dad because he molested her, but the judge let the boys stay, saying they'd survive.
D was called down to the office yesterday. I didn't know why. He came back during recess. "Doooo you wanna know why I had to go down to the office?
"If you'd like to tell me."
"It was social services people. But for Mom's house this time."
"...oh..."
"It's all cause Doug was hitting my sister, like really hitting her, like he wouldn't stop."
"Who's Doug?"
"Doug is um...he's the...well...the one my mom likes."
He left then, in true ADD fashion - distracted by something else - while I sat there feeling kicked in the gut. How does this kid have a chance? Dad's an abuser, Mom seems to have a pattern of relationships with abusive men, relationships that obviously leave her kids confused since D has no idea what to even call the latest guy - is he a boyfriend, fiance, what? All I can do is cry out to Jesus for this child - that somewhere along the line, he'll see what normal looks like, he'll know he can make different and hopefully better choices than his parents did, he'll know that this lifestyle isn't all there is, that there's more, that there's hope.
I cry out - and then I ask him if there's anything I can do for him. A puzzled stare. "Nope, I'm fine," he says, and I realize he probably wouldn't know what fine was if it walked up and hugged him.
Another piece of my heart, gone.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Stick a Fork in Me
Yep - stick a fork in me...I'm done. My nice, good, normal class suddenly exploded yesterday into a bad episode of People's Court with a little circus freak show mixed in. The whole fifth grade watched a movie yesterday afternoon. I heart movie days - I can get a TON of work done whilst my children are staring glassy-eyed at the screen.
Or I can normally get a ton of work done.
The fun started right after lunch. B and E came to find me and tell me that M stole one of B's boots and put it in E's locker. Following me so far? This isn't the first little scuffle these three have had - E and M are "one-friend" girls, and they want their one friend to be B, who can't stand up to either of them. I pull M out in the hallway and ask her to tell me about the boots. "I didn't touch anything," she says, "I figured E took the boot, that's why I told B to look in her locker. They think I did it, but I didn't. I was with S all during lunch." So, I pull S out to check the alibi. S tells me, "Yup, M found the boot in the hallway and put it in E's locker on the way outside." Pull M back out and point out that if she wants to use someone as an alibi, she might want to get her story straight with that person first. Ask again if she took the boot, and she tearfully confesses, she was trying to get E in trouble so B would like her better. Yeesh.
As I'm on my way in to get a discipline write up for her to fill out, another student comes up and tells me that K is scraping snow off his shoes and pants and throwing it at her and her friends. Argh. I know he's guilty - the kid throws any little thing he can get his hands on...eraser bits, teeny paper balls, cookie crumbs, you name it. Anything small enough that he thinks he won't get caught. So I pull him in the hallway, where he insists, "It's not me, it's the two boys sitting behind me, that's why everyone thinks it's me."
So I go head back in the room to question the two boys and the ten other people sitting around them. I'm interrupted by my autistic child, J, shouting, "I'm bad, too! Take me in the hallway!" Having had a bad episode with his social worker, he somehow thinks being punished more can make up for it. He continues shouting until I'm forced to put him in the hallway so everyone else can hear the movie. As he's going to the hall, I hastily interview about fifteen other kids as to whether K was the one throwing snow. Shockingly, no one saw anyone except K throwing things.
In the hallway once more, I check M's discipline write up, where instead of writing what she did, she's written that she promises she won't be bad anymore. Tell her to write down exactly what she did, ask K who's telling the truth, him or the fifteen people who saw him throwing snow, all the while punctuated by J shouting "I DID IT! I THREW SNOW! I MASHED IT INTO PEOPLE'S FACES AND PUSHED THEM DOWN, AND HURT THEM, AND THEN I KICKED THEM! GIVE ME A YELLOW PAPER TO WRITE HOW I'M BAD!!!" K tells me that, yes, he might have thrown just a little bit of snow, but it started when someone else put snow down his back. As J shouts, "LOOK, I'M EATING TAPE!" I say to K, "Really, those girls across the room who you were hitting with snow were somehow able to put snow down your back from across the room?" He admits, they did not. I hand him the discipline writeup and a pencil, turning my attention back to J, who's still demanding a yellow paper to write how he's bad. Have him get his office pass and take a break by walking to the office and back, check M's write up, which now accurately lists her behavior, sign it, and send her down to the office to deliver it to the principal. Leave K sitting in the hall and head in to try to get a few papers graded.
J returns from his walk to the office, and all is calm. Until the assistant principal shows up to give me the detention form for M. J sees the paper, is reminded that he wanted one, and begins shouting, "I'M BAD! GIVE ME A PAPER! SEE, I'M CRUMPLING UP THE OFFICE PASS! I'M RIPPING IT! I NEED A YELLOW PAPER!" I take him back out to the hall for the duration, check K's write up, where he has somehow forgotten to include the little fact that he flat out lied to me. "Oh, yeah," he says, "I forgot about that." Sure.
Write ups complete....J quietly sitting in the hallway....me alternating between praying that my mental stability will last until Christmas break and asking God to please send us a snow day. Done.
Or I can normally get a ton of work done.
The fun started right after lunch. B and E came to find me and tell me that M stole one of B's boots and put it in E's locker. Following me so far? This isn't the first little scuffle these three have had - E and M are "one-friend" girls, and they want their one friend to be B, who can't stand up to either of them. I pull M out in the hallway and ask her to tell me about the boots. "I didn't touch anything," she says, "I figured E took the boot, that's why I told B to look in her locker. They think I did it, but I didn't. I was with S all during lunch." So, I pull S out to check the alibi. S tells me, "Yup, M found the boot in the hallway and put it in E's locker on the way outside." Pull M back out and point out that if she wants to use someone as an alibi, she might want to get her story straight with that person first. Ask again if she took the boot, and she tearfully confesses, she was trying to get E in trouble so B would like her better. Yeesh.
As I'm on my way in to get a discipline write up for her to fill out, another student comes up and tells me that K is scraping snow off his shoes and pants and throwing it at her and her friends. Argh. I know he's guilty - the kid throws any little thing he can get his hands on...eraser bits, teeny paper balls, cookie crumbs, you name it. Anything small enough that he thinks he won't get caught. So I pull him in the hallway, where he insists, "It's not me, it's the two boys sitting behind me, that's why everyone thinks it's me."
So I go head back in the room to question the two boys and the ten other people sitting around them. I'm interrupted by my autistic child, J, shouting, "I'm bad, too! Take me in the hallway!" Having had a bad episode with his social worker, he somehow thinks being punished more can make up for it. He continues shouting until I'm forced to put him in the hallway so everyone else can hear the movie. As he's going to the hall, I hastily interview about fifteen other kids as to whether K was the one throwing snow. Shockingly, no one saw anyone except K throwing things.
In the hallway once more, I check M's discipline write up, where instead of writing what she did, she's written that she promises she won't be bad anymore. Tell her to write down exactly what she did, ask K who's telling the truth, him or the fifteen people who saw him throwing snow, all the while punctuated by J shouting "I DID IT! I THREW SNOW! I MASHED IT INTO PEOPLE'S FACES AND PUSHED THEM DOWN, AND HURT THEM, AND THEN I KICKED THEM! GIVE ME A YELLOW PAPER TO WRITE HOW I'M BAD!!!" K tells me that, yes, he might have thrown just a little bit of snow, but it started when someone else put snow down his back. As J shouts, "LOOK, I'M EATING TAPE!" I say to K, "Really, those girls across the room who you were hitting with snow were somehow able to put snow down your back from across the room?" He admits, they did not. I hand him the discipline writeup and a pencil, turning my attention back to J, who's still demanding a yellow paper to write how he's bad. Have him get his office pass and take a break by walking to the office and back, check M's write up, which now accurately lists her behavior, sign it, and send her down to the office to deliver it to the principal. Leave K sitting in the hall and head in to try to get a few papers graded.
J returns from his walk to the office, and all is calm. Until the assistant principal shows up to give me the detention form for M. J sees the paper, is reminded that he wanted one, and begins shouting, "I'M BAD! GIVE ME A PAPER! SEE, I'M CRUMPLING UP THE OFFICE PASS! I'M RIPPING IT! I NEED A YELLOW PAPER!" I take him back out to the hall for the duration, check K's write up, where he has somehow forgotten to include the little fact that he flat out lied to me. "Oh, yeah," he says, "I forgot about that." Sure.
Write ups complete....J quietly sitting in the hallway....me alternating between praying that my mental stability will last until Christmas break and asking God to please send us a snow day. Done.
Monday, November 17, 2008
What day is it?
I say, "Find some examples of two word sentences." Child says, "This one has four, but it's close enough," and is prepared to argue the point.
I say, "Suggest some G rated movies for our next reward movie." They say, "Kung Fu Panda. It isn't rated G, but it should be," and they're prepared to argue the point.
Add in taking a bite of my breakfast apple only to discover the whole thing is rotten, going for some liquid caffeine only to discover the entire pop machine is sold out, and what do you have???
Monday morning.
ick.
I say, "Suggest some G rated movies for our next reward movie." They say, "Kung Fu Panda. It isn't rated G, but it should be," and they're prepared to argue the point.
Add in taking a bite of my breakfast apple only to discover the whole thing is rotten, going for some liquid caffeine only to discover the entire pop machine is sold out, and what do you have???
Monday morning.
ick.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Gimme an R!
I have a phenomenon happening in my classroom this year which has never occured before. I have cheerleaders. *shudders with fear*
I'm not entirely sure when this happened, but it may have had something to do with the homecoming pep rally, in which the varsity cheerleaders were more involved than the varsity football players.
A few short days after this rally, I got my first, "Hey, Mrs. N! Look at us! Ok, ok, ready? Ok, WHO'S GOT THAT BEAT, THAT AWESOME COYOTE BEAT? THAT BEAT GOES...." followed by a blur of clapping, snapping, and leg patting, which may or may not include the solution to last Sunday's crossword puzzle.
But then, the fun really started. Two other girls, watching all this go down, snootily remark, "Well, we can do it faster, Mrs. N. See? Ok, ready? WHO'S GOT THAT BEAT....." and so it goes, until hummingbirds everywhere are quivering with envy.
I thought that would be the worst of it. That I'd have to listen to the Coyote Beat in varying speeds while waiting for the lunch ladies to be ready for our class. But I wasn't counting on the Stealth Cheerleaders.
These are the girls who, each time I take my eyes off of them, are undercover cheering. They lull me into a falsely believing I have their attention, and then, when I least expect it, I'll look around and discover that two or three of them have made eye contact with each other, and are silently mouthing, "who's got that beat," while air clapping.
I've had a lot of crazy experiences as a teacher, but nothing quite so creepy as the stealth cheerleaders.
I'm not entirely sure when this happened, but it may have had something to do with the homecoming pep rally, in which the varsity cheerleaders were more involved than the varsity football players.
A few short days after this rally, I got my first, "Hey, Mrs. N! Look at us! Ok, ok, ready? Ok, WHO'S GOT THAT BEAT, THAT AWESOME COYOTE BEAT? THAT BEAT GOES...." followed by a blur of clapping, snapping, and leg patting, which may or may not include the solution to last Sunday's crossword puzzle.
But then, the fun really started. Two other girls, watching all this go down, snootily remark, "Well, we can do it faster, Mrs. N. See? Ok, ready? WHO'S GOT THAT BEAT....." and so it goes, until hummingbirds everywhere are quivering with envy.
I thought that would be the worst of it. That I'd have to listen to the Coyote Beat in varying speeds while waiting for the lunch ladies to be ready for our class. But I wasn't counting on the Stealth Cheerleaders.
These are the girls who, each time I take my eyes off of them, are undercover cheering. They lull me into a falsely believing I have their attention, and then, when I least expect it, I'll look around and discover that two or three of them have made eye contact with each other, and are silently mouthing, "who's got that beat," while air clapping.
I've had a lot of crazy experiences as a teacher, but nothing quite so creepy as the stealth cheerleaders.
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