Triple Meltdown Thursday

It was one meltdown after another today with my little autistic one.

It all began with seeing a high school band concert on the schedule and vowing that he would not sit on the floor in the gym because it makes his knees and feet hurt and it's dirty and it has germs.

The meltdown fun continued with indoor recess. I returned a couple minutes before the end of recess after lunch to find it absolutely silent, and they were all reading.
"Did you guys get in trouble at recess?" I asked.
And before the first two words were out of anyone's mouth, he was screaming, "It wasn't my fault," throwing books, lifting his desk off the floor and dropping it.

So naturally, when he made it back from the office mid-concert, and I said, "Please sit down." He sat. On the floor. With no drama. After I'd heard all day how floors are dirty, bad places where children should never be required to sit. Ever.

By the days end, he walked into the Special Ed teacher's room, plopped himself on the floor, rubbed his palms on the floor and then licked them. Licked them.

Because, as he explained to her, floors have all kinds of germs on them, which would make him sick so he wouldn't have to come to school and sit on the floor.

So maybe the next time we have an assembly, I can remind him that by sitting on the floor, he actually increases the chances of getting to stay home.

It might work. It just might work.

~"Not Me!" Monday~

I most definitely did not send a student into the hall today.
And this sentence very definitely did not come out of my mouth,

"I'd love to have you back in my classroom as soon as you can use words to ask questions instead of throwing glue sticks."

Nope, not me....

~ All in the Family ~

Two years ago, K. was in my classroom. I loved K. and her spunky little ways, and one of the things I remember about her is the way she turned in assignments. Never just folded in half, or even in fourths, not this girl. She'd start by folding them in half, then continue the fun by accordian folding the assignment, or maybe creating a little fan out of the paper. It was a little mini-adventure just to get her paper unfolded and laid flat to read it.

This year, her little brother R. is in my room. R just folded his math paper in thirds, folded all the edges back a couple of times, and then proceeded to staple the life out of it. When I told him I didn't really want to have to use a staple remover just to grade his assignment, he solemnly held it up, showing me that all the answers were on the front of his little art project.

Is the desire to fold paper genetic, or what?

~ Top Five ~

Top Five signs that Spring Break is only days away:

5. When asked to get his reading book out of his desk, D. begins growling at me.

4. During math time, the boys manage to make a fraction game into a full contact sport.

3. Every set of directions is followed by someone asking, "Do we have to?"

2. Whispered arguments erupt during reading time over whether Spring Break is this coming week, or if we have one week of school left. A. finally settles it by interrupting me mid-sentence to ask if we have school on Monday or not.

.......and the number one sign that Spring Break is only days away......

Teachers with small, thin smiles passing each other in the hallway, reminding each other that we will make it to break with most of our sanity intact. Maybe.

Creative Geography

In education, we deal with a lot of what is sometimes called "creative spelling," where a child who has no idea how to spell a word will pretty much make up a spelling. Take, for example, the word "aghsome."

But I think we need a new term in education, so I'm introducing, "Creative Geography," where a child who has no idea where countries or major landforms are located makes it up.

My partner teacher's kids have social studies with me every other week, and they are enormous creative geographers. For example, if you didn't already know, my partner teacher's students tell me that Canada comes in two parts, one part north of the U.S., and one part south. They also think Chicago is a country and Mackinac Island is it's own state. Truly.

Today, as I was grading their final projects for our Colonial Times unit, I came across quite the interesting picture. One student chose to make a poster for his project. He drew a picture of a cabin with some farm fields and a garden patch with a slave working, and in the background, a volcano, spewing lava over the entire scene. You didn't know that there were active volcanoes in the thirteen original colonies, did you?

Neither did I.

Note To Self

Dear Self,
For future reference, field trips on Thursdays are a BAD thing. It tricks the mind into believing that Thursday was actually Friday, which leads to Friday feeling like Saturday, which leads to the minds of children believing that they shouldn't actually have to do any work. 'Cause it's Saturday.

So save yourself a headache, and from now on, only take field trips on Fridays.

Sincerely,
Mrs. N.

The Time Has Come

It came early this year.

It's usually April before I have to give the Dreaded Talk. But it's only the beginning of March, and judging by the smell I'm gonna have to give it early.

The your-bodies-are-changing-and-you-must-start-showering-every-day-and-also-wearing-deoderant talk.

Cause they just came back from gym, and oh my glory are they ripe!