So, yesterday was a ridiculously terrible day. You wanna hear about it? Good.
First thing, we had P.E., which would be awesome if we had a P.E. specialist. But we don't, so that leaves me to "teach" it. That usually means dodgeball because the kids love it. Well, I decided that I was going to be different and I remembered we had one of those huge, gigantic balls in the equipment room. I wanted to pull out a classic: crab soccer. My kids are obsessed with soccer, and I thought it would be a fun twist on their normal game. Plus, I remember having fun with it when I was a kid. Well, about 5 seconds after I blew my whistle to start the game, they started freaking out. "Ms. G, this hurts!" "Ms. G, do we have to do this?" "Teacher, this isn't really working with the skirt I'm wearing." Their suggestion was to get out the little roll-y scooters of death, as I have now dubbed them. You, know, these:
Whoever the hell decided that these were a good idea for elementary school P.E. was out of his damn mind. (That's how well P.E. went after finally consenting to get these suckers out.) I had at least two kids get huffy and/or cry as they stormed off to the side of the gym because of smashed fingers. Three kids were hiding in the little cutout corner trying to skateboard. I promptly confiscated their scooters and they sat out the rest of the time. I saw several kids fly (yes, literally fly) horizontally several feet off their scooters. There were many more minor smashings and bruisings that remained unreported. There was a really great reason that I had not gone against my better judgement and pulled out those scooters earlier in the year. It will never happen again.
I wish I could say that it ended there, but my morning was just getting started. During a math review game, I was going around checking groups' answers, when I find a kid using my mechanical pencil that I was sure I had left at least somewhere on my desk, if not in my pencil jar. I nonchalantly said, "Hey, I think that's my pencil." The conniving kid fakes a really surprised look as he said, "Oh, I found it on the ground. Here," and hands it to me. That's not the first time it's happened. (For example, just last week he commandeered a clicky blue pen that was most definitely mine. It wasn't worth the fight though and I let it go. Not my purple-mechanical-pencil-with-the-clicky-thing-on-the-side-so-I-don't-have-to-adjust-my-hand-while-writing-to-dispense-more-lead though. Not to mention it was a teacher appreciation gift.) Well, I'd say that was that, but it wasn't. About twenty to thirty minutes later, I see the same kid with my VIS-A-VIS WET ERASE MARKER ABOUT TO WRITE ON HIS PAPER. Oh, no he di-in't. I swooped and snatched it out of his hand like a hawk. He most
definitely got that out of my pencil jar and I called him out on it. Which made him quite unhappy. And I chose to just walk away and let him call me whatever terrible names he uttered, which I'm sure were not just a few.
Am I done yet? Of course not. We're hardly halfway through the morning.
I had a student who had complained to me earlier that he wasn't feeling very well. That is such a...there's no good word for it. Annoying is too strong a word. But I can't really do anything for a kid who doesn't feel well, so I don't know why they're telling me. I asked him if he needed to go to the bathroom or the office, and he said no, so I told him to let me know if he changed his mind and that was that. He complained again later about his stomach and I told him if he felt like he was going to throw up that he should grab the trashcan and head to the bathroom (seriously one of the best things I learned in college to tell your kids to do). Well, I'm working with a small reading group and the class is all busy and on task, and this poor kid is sitting on the floor beside me because he's still not feeling real great and I'm meeting with his group. I suddenly notice he's gulping huge amounts of air. You know, like you do when you're trying really hard not to throw up? I have half a mind to tell someone to get him the trashcan, but then I got sidetracked by something with my group. Next thing I know... "BLARGHHH" Yup. He puked. All over himself and the floor. And of course he does it several times before someone gets him the trashcan. (I was trapped behind my kidney table with him blocking my only escape. Dang, I wish I'd have whipped out my ninja skills and flipped over the table. #opportunitymissed) Well, I'll skip the rest of the super gory details. I got him out of there with the trashcan and escorted to the office with one kid while another one went to get the custodian. Luckily we did not have to evacuate. No chunks or smell. But, the rest of guided reading was kind of shot.
Things were okay for the rest of the 45 minutes until lunch recess, except that I had a bunch of kids who stayed in from recess to "work on missing work." I caught two of my girls point blank doing each others worksheets like I was an idiot. I finally got rid of them at lunch and had hardly 15 minutes to myself.
I guess that was pretty much most of the drama for the day. Nothing in the afternoon really sticks out to me. Except that for the first time in over a week I didn't have to be on duty for afternoon recess (last week we were testing every afternoon and went out for recess after everyone else, so I had to go out every day). I was excited to kick out everyone and have 15 minutes to sit down. But no, I had an overachiever trying to finish his math worksheet and was asking for help. And then when he finally finished and went outside, they called for one of my students to check out. Seriously? I thought that's why we had to take the walkie talkie out for recess duty. So I had to run all the way outside and across the field to get this girl. What a nice recess break. Yeah, totally selfish, I know.
Oh, one more thing. I have a girl who has stayed after school sometimes to get some math help. Well, yesterday after the bell rang for the end of the day she asks me if she can call her dad, so I say sure and point to the classroom phone. I'm going around tidying up or whatever and I hear her saying, "Hi Daddy, I'm staying after, ok?" Uhh, wait a minute. You're doing what? I'm glad your Daddy knows now, but does your teacher know that you're staying after so she can help you with math? It wasn't a big deal, but just annoying that sometimes people are so assuming that teachers have absolutely nothing to do once school is over.
Well, I hope that was at least a little entertaining for you to read. I will say, it was quite entertaining for me to write. I'm gonna have to write another post soon about how funny [I think] I have been lately.
