Zoo.

Today, as part of our animal unit, I read two of my all time favorite books. I'm a sucker for non-fiction and I think my sprouts share my enthusiasm. Learning about the world around us is just plain fun and these two books bring a bit of the world into our classroom, not something to so easy to do. As a child, I have such vivid memories of going to the zoo. We always lived near one and trips to visit the animals were an often occurrence for my family. I live and work in an area not close to a zoo... both of these books help me bring a little of that excitement to my itty bitty friends.

The first book, Actual Size by Steve Jenkins is a beautifully illustrated oversized book showing different parts of animals in, you guessed it, their actual size. As we read the book, I invited children to come up and compare their eye to that of the giant squid and their foot to that of an elephant. It's pretty powerful.

The second book, Life-Sized Zoo is the same kind of idea, only with photographs. Many of the pages fold out two or three times to show the actual head and neck of the animal in real size. The amount of cheering and elation from both books made my day.

We truly love non-fiction and these books are an amazing asset to our classroom library. Can't visit an actual zoo? Take these over-sized books for a spin and bring the animals to you!

  

Snacker.

Oh how I love snack time. In kindergarten, our snack time is a short ten minute break in our morning when sprouts get to socialize and practice fine motor skills as they attempt to open their snacks. Last year I did a group snack, but with the multitude of allergies in my room this year (really, there are allergies this year I wasn’t even aware of before… apparently people can be allergic to anything…), we each bring our own this year.

I usually walk around and help open items deemed too difficult for a five-year-old to open… which leads me to the question, why send your child with a snack they can’t open? Surely parents don’t believe teachers have time to open the snack of every child in the room… or maybe they do? I learned quickly to try and teach rather than do. Usually most kids are able to open their snacks, I get the feeling they’ve just never had to before. It’s quite empowering to see a child open a snack.

The other day I was helping with a particularly difficult Tupperware container… seriously, it was almost impossible for even me to open. When I finally pried the nasty lid from its nest, I said, “Phew, that was hard, I deserve a reward for all that hard work.”

Without missing a beat, Michelle lifted up a single tiny cheese cracker, “Here, take one.”

Now who am I to refuse the gift of a small child?

Naturally, the other kids wanted me to try their snacks too. I politely accepted anything healthy and declined sweets. I love sweets, but I’m a role model here and I do want to promote healthy snacking. I walked around snacking on this and that and by the time snack time was over, my heart was light and my belly full. Snacker… just one more job you take on as a teacher.

Medicine.

Wow. After missing two days last week and then the weekend, I wasn’t prepared for how darn missed I was. From the moment the sprouts filed into the classroom this morning, I was showered with ‘I miss you’ and hugs from left and right.

David made a point to pull me aside and tell me, “Mr. _______, I missed you so badly, I missed you the two days you were out and I thought about you all weekend long, I’m so glad you’re back.”

He really seemed to mean it too.

Martin forgot our conversation and tried to climb on my lap… a few times.

Audra gave me a few random hugs during transitions… she just couldn’t resist.

I got a few hugs from boys who were first timers… they’d never offered one before.

I started my day not feeling so well. I wasn’t sure I’d even made the right decision to go in today… but as the day progressed and I was showered with hugs, smiles, and genuine heartfelt love, I actually felt better. I know, it sounds corny, but it’s true. Those sprouts were just the medicine I needed.

I wonder how many of my non-teacher friends are missed so badly when they miss a few days of work?

Love.

So in my flu fog of lying on the sofa napping on and off (which felt more like going in and out of consciousness), I heard something on one of the morning talk shows about love. I’m not sure what channel it was, what show it was, or exactly who said it, but the discussion was about measuring the success of your life in love.

Instead of how much money or fame you’ve accumulated as a barometer for success, how much love have you given and how much have you received would be a better way to measure the achievement of your life. This thought perked me up… if only for a moment. I jotted it down in my notebook and fell back to sleep. When I woke hours later (seriously, being sick stinks), I was still thinking about it... which also made me think of this little guy playing his heart out about... yes, love.

Naturally, as a kindergarten teacher, love is a currency exchanged daily. I get more notes and pictures that proclaim adoration for me than I can count. I’m told ‘I love you’ dozens, if not more, times a day. Beyond the concrete displays of love (hugs are numerous and heartfelt), the smiles I get (particularly from one little guy who would probably never say he loved me), just exude love.

I have to admit, I feel it back. Even during my worst moments, when my patience is dwindling, when if I hear ‘Mr. ______, Mr. _______, Mr. _______!’ one more time I think my head might pop off, even then, I still love my sprouts. Each and every one of them.

This love fest I encounter each day at school leads me to believe I’m doing quite well in life. I’m not famous and have zero interest in starring on a reality show. My bank account isn’t busting at the seams and probably never will. My love piggybank is busting at the seams though… color me successful.

Thinking.

Kindergarteners are an enthusiastic bunch. Whenever a question is asked, hands go up, arms start waving, and grunts and other unpleasant noises can usually be heard. God forbid a sprout needed, oh say time or quiet, to think, they’d never get either.

Last year, in a last ditch effort to offer those who needed a little peace and quiet to think some of both, I devised, on the fly I might add (my best ideas come to me that way…), a way for everyone to get the time they needed to think. I don’t have a name for it, but here is how it works.

After I ask a question, children take their index finger and tap it on their chin. This signals ‘thinking’ – it’s nice to look around the room and see all those fingers tap tap tapping away. When an answer formulates, they simply move the finger from their chin to the temple of their forehead. The entire movement is silent and I can quickly see who is still thinking and who is ready with an answer.

Whenever we do a group sharing activity, I model it myself and, naturally, they all want to copy me. Calm, peaceful thinking is always good to see.

Human.

Well, it's official. I'm sick. As I fight the flu (I'm feeling better today than yesterday - today I only feel as if I've been run over by a van, not a bus), here's another one from the archive. An oldie, that many probably haven't read. I've got a new post sometime this weekend and plan on resuming my normal work/writing on Monday.

Everyone knows that teachers are held to higher standards than regular folks. Kids look up to us—it’s that simple. We’re the ones who put Band-aids on cuts, comfort the homesick, reattach eyes to beloved stuffed animals (I’ve already done this...twice) and navigate the tricky waters of five-year-old friendships. Anyone who has run a classroom of young children knows it’s not a stretch to say that we’re worshipped.

But the funny thing is, we’re normal people.

I teach in a town relatively far from where I live. It takes me almost thirty minutes to get to school. Yes, I often complain about the commute, but one day I was reminded why the distance is a good thing.

While driving home from work, I figured I could save some time by popping into a local grocery store—local to the school, that is—to pick up some items I needed for a special snack the next day (mini Oreo cookies…wheels for our graham cracker buses). While in the store, I picked up a couple things I needed for home as well, including a twelve-pack of my favorite beer. It had been a stressful day; I thought I deserved it.

And as I headed toward the checkout with my cookies and beer, I bumped into a parent and former student. Neither said anything about my purchases, but I saw their eyes. I knew what they were thinking.

Okay, so I’m a teacher. I have a great responsibility and I take it very seriously at all times—not just when I’m in the classroom. I understand, too, that my students think I’m a rock star (a few have even told me so). However, I’m also a human being. I get stressed out and, trust me, I’m not always good at hiding it.

For the most part, though, I like to think—I hope—that my students are not aware of my stresses. I’ve had moments where my personal life was in turmoil and I wasn’t sure I could hold it together, but in front of my class, I smiled through it. I had to. Not only would my students not understand my grownup problems, but they didn’t need to hear about them. In fact, they deserved not to. They’d have plenty of grownup problems of their own—as we all do—in the future.

That day in the grocery store, I was reminded why living a distance from my students is a good thing. Sometimes, keeping my home life separate from my school one is what’s best for my students. And because from time to time, I need a beer. Don’t hate me because I’m human.

Sucker.

Well I'm sick again. I had just said to someone I thought my immune system was doing really well warding off all the germs and then, boom, cold chills and aches. Naturally, I debated staying home this morning and then after I finally called in, I fell back asleep for almost three hours... and then woke up, ate, and took another two hour nap. Clearly my body wants rest... and yet why do we teachers always feel GUILTY (a word my mother and grandmother have drilled into me well) when we call in sick?

In honor of my illness, which I'm convinced was brought on by me being a sucker for a hug, even if the child giving it has a runny nose and is literally coughing in my face, here's one of my all time favorite poems.  Now for nap number three.

SICK

by Shel Silverstein

I cannot go to school today,”

Said little Peggy Ann McKay.

“I have the measles and the mumps,

A gash, a rash, and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,

I’m going blind in my right eye.

My tonsils are as big as rocks,

I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox,

And there’s one more – - that’s seventeen,

And don’t you think my face looks green?

My leg is cut, my eyes are blue –

It might be instamatic flu.

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,

I’m sure that my left leg is broke –

My hip hurts when I move my chin,

My belly button’s caving in,

My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,

My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.

My nose I cold, my toes are numb,

I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,

I hardly whisper when I speak.

My tongue is filling up my mouth,

I think my hair is falling out.

My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,

My temperature is one-o-eight.

My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,

There is a hole inside my ear.

I have hangnail, and my heart is – what?

What’s that? What’s that you say?

You say today is … Saturday?

G’bye, I’m going out to play.