Checking...

We did math problems the other day.  Most teachers will tell you that there are always a couple kids that finish every assignment quickly and perfectly.  As usual, I had some to do that, so I gave them a job.

"Go around and check the others and make sure they're doing good." I told them.

One of the little boys took it seriously.  "I better put on my checking face," he said.  With that, he made a horrible frown, in the manner of Walter, from Jeff Dunham.

Apparently, the math teacher needs to smile more.

Nicknames

As we were walking up the hall this morning, one of my little girls came up and said, "Do you know what my new nickname is?"

I replied that I didn't, and she answered, "It's B.C."

Before I could ask the obvious question, she answered it for me.  "Mr. S gave it to me.  It stands for Birth Control."

...........?


As I leaned against the wall gasping for air, she told me the story.

In her words:

"My friend yelled at me yesterday in Mr. S's class and he thought they said Birth Control.  So that's my new name."






Honestly, a day with some kids is the best form of birth control you can get, I have to agree.

This Lil Piggy...

One of my little girls was trying to figure out the density of a sample she had been measuring.  She had taken the volume and the mass and was using a calculator to work out the density.  I normally hate calculators, but I just didn't have classtime to devote to the long division.

She kept typing the numbers into the calculator and restarting, getting more and more frustrated each time she started over.  Hoping to avoid controversy, I just observed, not saying anything.

Finally, she dropped it on the desk and looked up. "Mr. Hall!" she yelled.  "My fingers is trying to punch in the numbers, but they're too fat and the numbers is too skinny!"

Exactly how does one exercise their fingers?  My only thought was digging for nose gold.

With a Shovel...

We were doing an experiment in science class, and part of their assignment was to find the mass of some marbles.  The students were using a small electronic scale with a flat top. 

I was attempting to give some guidance on how to mass the marbles without them rolling off the scale.  "Take your little cup and lay it on the scale.  You should have the mass of the cup showing." I said.  They had to get rid of that number in order to find the mass of JUST the marbles.  We had been over this before, so I asked, "Now what do you hit?"

A voice from the back answered, "Rock bottom!"

They were right.

Flying Monkeys

We were talking about natural parks in social studies class.  For an assignment, I had them to create a nature park poster talking about how to protect a park that they imagined.  One of my little boys is quite obsessed with monkeys, so his park was monkey-themed, of course.

He was showing his poster off to the class and sharing his great love of monkeys with us.  Then,he proceeds to tell us that one of his strategies to protect his park was to put the monkeys in their pockets for protection.

All I could think of was the phrase, "monkey in my pocket."  But I didn't break.  I didn't laugh or giggle (though I will admit to a wicked smile).

Then, in a fit of imagination of pretending he was smuggling his beloved monkeys, he leans over and starts screaming at his belly (I hope), "Bad monkey!  No biting!"

I had to walk outside.

The Truth

In class today, the kids were filling out a worksheet.  One question asked:

Geography is _______________________________________.  Of course, it was looking for a definition.

One little boy had a better answer.

He wrote in, "Hard".

This Isn't the Place...

We were in class one day and I notice one of my little girls scribbling away on her notepad.  Since we were conducting an experiement that didn't require so much writing, I assumed she was writing a note to one of her buddies.

"Hey, put the note away or I'll read it to everyone." I told her.

She looked at me like I was an idiot and replied, "If I was going to write a note, I'd wait til I got to math class.  Duh."

I should probably tell the math teacher, but what fun would that be?   Besides, I have a hunch she knows already.

Back to the Future...

Kids today have a way of making you feel old, even if you don't feel it normally.

One day, one of my little boys brings up a box of sports cards.  "Will you watch these for me today so I don't lose them?" he asks.

My students always bring me stuff they don't want to lose.  I told him to put them in a certain spot that I could watch.  However, he wanted to be sure I understood the importance of his loot.

"Some of these are collectibles, and some are really old," he told me.  "Some of them are even from the 19's!"

Really, guy?  Really?

Guess that proves that my generation had the coolest stuff after all.

Cuppa Joes?

Sometimes kids come from homes where there's more people than a traditional family.  They may have cousins or uncles living with them for a while. 

One day, one of my little boys comes up to me and just stares for a moment.  Finally, I say, "Can I help you?"

He nods thoughtfully and says, "There's two Joe's at my house.  Big Joe and Little Joe."

"Ok," I replied.

"You're somewhere in the middle of my Joe's." he informed me.

So I'm officially in between Joes at the moment.

Sorry! Another Twin Story

Sorry for the delay, folks!  I got a new computer at school where I update and there have been some technical issues.  But, I'm back online now and will resume (hopefully) daily posting.

I have two sets of twins in my classes, all girls.  Luckily, I don't have them together in class.  Anyway, I have helpers  to pass stuff out for me during class.  My science is all hands-on, so we use a lot of materials sometimes.  Well, one day, I had half the class passing stuff out.  One twin passed out sugar for me (for an experiment on solubility, I swear) and the other twin passed out cups. 

Later in the day, we needed more sugar.  So I tell the twin I thought had passed out the sugar originally to give all the groups a little more sugar.  She yells, "Ok!" and jumps up.

Before she can get any farther, her twin sister jumps up and says, "Hey!  I passed out the sugar, she passed out the cups!" 

The first twin looks offended and says, "No, I passed out the sugar, YOU passed out the cups." 

Then, to the classes amazement, they begin a heated (as heated as two sixty pound girls can get while wearing more pink than a Barbie dreamhouse) argument about who passed out what.

I had to stop them.  "Girls, if you can't keep track, we don't have a prayer."  I had them both pass out sugar.  It was easier and saved lives.

Story Time

I have a set of twins in my class.  They are two little girls who are hilarious.  Both are very skinny, and one is talkative and the other is quiet.

At the end of class, I asked if anyone had anything to share.  One of the twins raised their hand.  I called on her and she proceeds to tell me about her kicking her sister out of thier mom's belly because, "She was in a hurry and pushed me out."  As she would stop talking, the other would chime in with a detail.

"Hold up," I said.  "Are you seriously telling me the story of your birth?"  This was a new one, and I thought that I'd heard everything.

"Yep," one of the twins confirmed.  Then they finished their story together about how big they were and how good they could kick and how their mom was SO glad to get them out.

I guess kids today DO have good memories.  And to be honest, I'd have stopped the story if I could have quit laughing.

News Flash

From Mrs. Routt:

NEWS FLASH….in 2nd grade math we have been working on place value (using base-10 pieces; bits, skinnies, and flats). We have worked on this since the first Monday of school.


Today, we were determining the number represented by the base-10 pieces shown…well I finally got a little boy to figure out the number. It was 106. So then I asked so “What is 100”? I said “with base-10 pieces—bits, skinnies, flats—what is 100”? He scratched his head as he always does when he is in deep thought (deep thought for him) and looked at my aide and I as serious as could be and said….”a big number”.

I couldn’t even do anymore after that. I thought I was going to die. LOL!!!!!!!



So, always remember that when asked “what is 100” that it is a “big number”.

Age is Just a Number...

One of my little girls is head over heels in love with an actor named Sean Faris.  The only problem is that she's 11 and he's 28.  A slight age difference to be sure.

However, she is not deterred.  "He'll wait on me." she tells us.

I asked her one day, "But would you marry such an old man?"

She looked shocked.  "No!" she exclaimed.

I thought I had broken the obsession.  Silly me.  She wasn't done.

"He has to propose before I can marry him.  Duh." 

This is logical.  I don't know how I thought anything else.

Starstruck

I don't watch much TV, so I'm usually out of the loop of new actors and shows.  As far as I'm concerned, Punky Brewster still rules the airwaves.  Anyway, my students usually keep me informed of the relevant shows.  We may not know whats on the news, or have any idea what is said during a state of the union, but we have Disney programming down. 

So there's a new actor named Sean Faris.  He's less than one year younger than me.  And at least two of my little girls have a MASSIVE crush on him.  And one of my little boys has a budding man-crush on him.  So, this guy is all that AND a bag of potato chips.

Today, during a few minutes of free time between classes, my trio fan club (called either the Faris Wheel or Sean Squad, depending on which girl you ask) were comparing Sean, Zac Efron, and Justin (full-body shudder) Bieber. 

They had decided that Zac had nice abs but was old news (though still hot), and that Justin was hot, but too girly (agreed).  They also agreed that Sean had a great set of abs. 

As they were discussing his abs, one little girl gets a far away look in her eyes.  She reaches out with one hand and says, "I just wanna touch 'em..." while making pawing movements.

My aide and I were crying so hard we couldn't reply.  If this guy only knew.  FYI, Sean Faris, according to wikipedia and IMDB is single.  So they (the girls) are convinced he's waiting on them.  And the boy is convinced that Mr. Faris is waiting on his mom. 

Next week, on As the Class Turns...

Bodybuilding

Somehow, today after recess, the boys in my class got to showing off their muscles.  They all had their shirt sleeves pulled back and were flexing for all the girls in the class. 

One of my skinniest, tiniest, most petite little girls wanted in on the action.  So she lifts her arm and flexes.  Honestly, there was no change in her arm. 

Sadly, she reached up with her other arm and squeezed the flexing arm.  Again, not much change.

Then she had an epithany.  "It feels like pudding."

I couldn't answer.  I was crying.

Being Helpful

I've talked alot about the climbing wall in our playground.  It's a great source of amusement.  Today, one of our little girls was determined to make it over on her own, without any help, even from me.  Once at the top, however, she got stuck. 

Luckily, she has a best friend that was there to support her.  The three supervising adults were laughing so hard we couldn't sit down.  The buddy on the ground, you know, for support, unleashed a torrent of taunting that I have rarely heard equal to. 

Probably the best moment came when the support girl started to climb up, which caused some vibrations.  "Stop climbing!  Get off!  What are you doing?!" shouted the girl at the top.

Without pausing, the other girl continued to climb and yelled, "I'm the fire department!  Coming to get a scaredy cat out of a tree!  (Ambulance noises)" 

So what finally got her over the edge?  The support girl's promise to just go away.

To Be or Not to Be...

The other classes, especially the preschool and kindergarten, will sometimes come into my class for a tour of the "zoo".  I usually have at least a degu and three snakes in the class.  The little ones love to come in and I'll tell a bit about the creatures and let the little ones pet the animals.

Today, the preschool came to a visit.  They had no idea what a degu was, but they were very interested.  I asked if anyone knew what it was. 

One spellbound little boy said, "I think there's something wrong with your rat, Mister..."

Well, that's one way to look at it.

Lefty's Back In Town

Sorry for being gone so long!  I was in AIT training for the army and was unable to post.  I'm back and working on one post per day once again. 

My first day back in town, I came to school to visit and say hi to everyone.  I had missed the first day of school this year and there was a sub in my room.  When I walked in at the end of the day, naturally, the kids had all kinds of stories to tell me. 

One little girl was telling me about a movie that I simply must go see, when a little boy to the side of her started pestering her, wanting to tell me something different.  She ignored him for a moment, then turned to him.

"Don't make me pull off righty." she told him.

As I pondered what on Earth that could mean, she pulled off her right flip-flop and proceded to smack the tar out of the boy.  He stopped. 

It looks like a commonplace occurance since I've been gone.  There is a healthy respect for "righty" in my class now.

Earth Day... Yesterday

Last night, we had an awards banquet for some conservation stuff the kids had done earlier in the year.  It just happened to fall on Earth Day 2010.  Doing the ceremony were some folks who don't normally come out to our school.

As they were cleaning at the end, they got confused as to which recyclable bin to put things, so they yelled for assistance in determining where to put everything.

Our principal yelled back, "Don't worry about the recycling, just throw it in the trash bin!" He was trying to help them get done and get out and didn't want to have to explain how to sort.  Totally understandable, they were here to give us food, awards, and money.  Why bother them with such details, right?

One of our little boys got a shocked look on his face.  "But, it's Earth Day..." he lamented.

The poor principal got turned into the bad guy from Captain Planet with four words.

Good Nails

I've mentioned before about how children will often come in with bug bites and rashes.

One little boy came in today scratching like crazy.  I asked him why he was scratching (besides the fact that it itched).

"Poison ivy" he replied digging a little deeper into his skin.

"Do you want some poison ivy cream so it doesn't itch?" I offered.

"Nope" he said.  "I kinda like scratchin'."

Fair enough.

Shhhh... Be very, very quiet...

The other day, we were priveleged enough to go on a field trip to the state capitol.  Since it's a long trip, we got back well after school had let out and were waiting on all the children to get picked up.  Finally, all we had left was one little boy, who was staring hard at a flock of birds attacking a bird feeder nearby.

All of a sudden, he jumps up and exclaims, "I'm gonna catch me a bird."  Thus declared, he began creeping slowly and stealthily toward the bird feeder.

After watching his slow progress, the aide that had went with us stood up and declared that she was heading home.  The little boy slowly turned, put his finger to his lips, and went, "Shhhh".   Then, he turned back to his birds and resumed creeping.

She laughed (quietly) and left.  I watched the predator.  Once he hit the end of the pavement, he got down flat on the grass and proceded to very slowly military low-crawl towards the birds an inch at a time. 

Finally, he got about 6 feet away from the feeder when the birds all took flight.  On his knees, he lifted his hands in the air and wailed, "Nooooooooo!" in the style of "Apocolypse Now."

"It's been almost a week since I killed me a bird...."

Talkative...

Sorry for the delay.  Between a field trip, Spring Break, and being sick, I've missed a few days.  My apologies.

I teach four grades: third to sixth.  In each grade level, we have a set of twins.  It's a unique situation that I'm sure scientists would love to study sometime.

Anyway, One of my twin sets is a set of girls.  One day in science class, the talkative one of the set began telling a story.  I should note here that one of her story can cause your legs to go numb, so we (the class) kind of sat down and waited for the storm to die down. 

This little girl is known for her long diatribes and abrubt endings.  As her story gained length and there seemed to be no end in sight, the survivors looked around at each other for support.  It was going to be a long haul. 

After a few more minutes, the story ended suddenly.  Feeling slightly relieved, I looked at the little girl who had just finished her narrative and asked her a question. "Do you talk in your sleep?"  Then, not to seem rude, I added, "Just curious."

She wasn't offended.  "Nope."  she said.  "But my sister does!"

Beside me, the quieter sister muttered under her breath, "That's the ONLY time I get to talk..."

She has to save up, but they're good when she gets them out.

Starving Artist

It was a nice, sunny, warm day, so I thought I'd have class outside.  We had been talking about life science and food chains and adaptations and so forth, so I had an idea.  Any idea, really, just to get us out of the room. 

I gave each kid a pencil, paper, and a magnifying glass.  Each kid got their own square foot section of playground.  Their instructions were to look closely in that square foot and write down or draw as many organisms as they could find.  The idea was to get them to look deeper and notice that nature is more than trees and deer.

They searched for a few minutes with some mild discoveries.  One little girl was amazed with a dead beetle she found.  She ended up having to take it home to show mommy.  I know mommy will be every bit as thrilled as the little girl.

Anyways, one little boy got really excited when a gnat landed on his paper.  "I don't even have to look in the grass.  Nature is coming to me!"

I reminded him to write down gnat on his paper.

"Naw" he said.  "I'm gonna trace it."

Trace.  A gnat.  Ok.

He put his pencil down.  Frowned.  Pulled his pencil back up and studied the tip.

"Hmm.  Squished it.  Guess you're not supposed to trace gnats." he concluded.

Fast learner, I was impressed.  The gnat was not quite as impressed.

Physician, Heal Thyself...

Like most teachers, I have a first aid kit in the room where I keep a selection of items that we routinely need.  Things like band-aids, aspirins, neosporin, hand sanitizer, tums, and itch cream are needed alot for both what kids do during the day (especially recess) and what they bring from home.  Just normal kid-injuries (kidjuries for short). 

I have a couple types of anti-itch creams.  I have cortisol for general itching, a special kids bug bite cream, and a gel for poison oak, ivy, so forth.  We need these more and more the closer we get to summer break.

One of my little boys came in the other day scratching wildly. 

"Oh, you gotta help me" he said.  "This poison ivy's about to kill me"  While talking, he continued to dance around the floor and scratch fairly deeply.

While I was getting the gel out, I asked, "How long has it itched?"  I was just curious as to how long this poor kid has suffered.  It was Monday and I wondered if he had done it recently or had to deal with it all weekend.

"I'm itching it now" he said.  "I've itched it all morning, I itched it last night.  Heck, I've itched it many times.  Give me the itchy stuff!"

I handed it right over.  I didn't want him to have to itch it anymore on my account.

Sleepy...

Sometimes my classes take in alot.  I'm usually proud of how much they can retain, even it's a bit advanced for their age.

One day we were going over a pretty hard subject.  I know it was hard, but I like to challenge them.  Apparently, the challenge was too much that day.

One little girl started smacking herself in the forehead for no apparent reason.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Sorry, my brain fell asleep" she said. 

Hmm, maybe it's time for a break...

Almost Made It

This story happened a long time ago.  Back when I was in high school, my mom worked at an elementary school.  I bring this up because that meant I "volunteered" for a lot of afterschool projects working with elementary kids. 

In this story, I and some others were babysitting some small children while their parents took some kind of class.  It was at school, so everyone's familiar with the layout.  I'm not used to dealing with preschool to kindergarten age for extended periods, so I was amazed at the amount of potty breaks we had to have in an hour.  Truly astounding.  Oh, and I love how they don't always share that they need to go.  They like for you to discover all on your own.

This I know now.

So I'm scanning the room, trying to control the chaos, or at least pretend to have it in hand.  That's when I see him.  This little boy is about two and a half feet tall and weighs maybe 35 pounds soaking wet with a backpack.  He is tiny.  And he is doing the tiniest version of the "gotta pee" stance I've ever witnessed. 

I walk over and say, "Bub, do you have to go to the bathroom?"  He nods yes.  "Well go on" I tell him.

He takes two microscopic steps and looks up.  "Can't walk mister."

Uh oh.

I'm new to this.  I didn't know what else to do.  The restrooms are about twenty feet down the hall. 

I pick the kid up and run for the bathroom, much in the style of Adam West's Batman running while holding a bomb. 

I'm running like never before.  I close the distance.  The kid has a strange look.  I run faster.

We get to the door.  I kick it open and prepare to leap through.

At this point, the little boy (whose name I never learned) looks up at me and says...

"Never mind"



Almost. Made. It.

Fairy Shoes

So there I was, holding the door the other day because I had early duty.  To those who don't know what that means, I was there early to watch the children while they came in and ate breakfast while the other teachers trickled in.  We take turns.

Anyway, one of our teeny little girls walked past and as she did, I noticed her shoes lighting up when she walked.  I love those things.

As she walked by, I said, "Them's some sparkly shoes you got on, girl."

Without looking up, she replied, "Those are my twinkle toes."

I had just been served comedically by a 6 year old.  Lovely.

Strength

I've mentioned before about the climbing wall we recently erected on our playground.  The kids love this thing.  We have several that conquer the tower everyday.  We also have some that ALMOST conquer the tower everyday.  And then, we have the group that conquers it daily, but not without help.

One of our tiny (tiny, tiny) little girls was climbing today.  She climbs everyday and can almost do it by herself.  Today, she learned a new trick.  She stuck her scrawny legs through the metal net and hung upside down.

She hung there for several minutes waving at friends and yelling at the teachers to look at her before she decided it was time to get back off for a few minutes. 

She grunted, she groaned, and she stretched and moaned for the longest of whiles and yet, had nowhere to go. 

Sorry, my mind went all Dr. Suess for a moment.

Anyway, after a while of struggling she yelled for me.  "Help!  My butt muscles are too weakly to pull me up!" she screamed at me.

Honestly, how many times can you honestly say that you've had that phrase screamed at you?

That's what I thought.

On a Roll...

Sometimes my students, during the day, will earn "time outs" for recess where they have to stand a while and not get to play for a few minutes.  Occasionally, I'll make a deal with the offender.  If you don't get in trouble for the rest of the day, I'll forget about your timeout.

One morning, a kid had gotten in trouble during breakfast, before even getting to the classroom, and earned a time out.  Since the kid wasn't the type to usually get in trouble, I made the deal with them.

About ten minutes later, we were in the classroom ready to go.  The kid raised their hand and asked if they had gotten rid of the time out yet.

"Not yet" I said, "You've only been in here a few minutes."

"I know" they answered.  "But I'm on a roll by being good so far and I don't want to ruin it."

The scarier thing is that the longer I think about that, the more sense it makes.

Mysterious Marks

This morning, one of my little boys came up to tell me something.  The best way I can describe it is to just write it in script form.

Little Boy:  Hey, yesterday I wore shorts cuz it was warm out!  But I got scratches everywhere.

Me:  Well, thats ok.  Scratches just means that you did something instead of sitting around.

Little Boy:  But I didn't do anything yesterday.

Me:  I'm confused then.  How did you get scratched up?

Little Boy:  I don't know!


Cue: X-Files theme.  Mulder and Scully need to come investigate.

Dusty Out There

We had a beautiful day today.  It's a Friday, it's beautiful, and we had stuff going on throughout the day.  Therefore, I decided my last class was going to do something outside.  At the last second, I concluded that we should go and draw stuff on our basketball court with chalk. 

So my third graders and I were outside drawing animals for foods chains and such.  It was hot out, very hot and dry.  I didn't realize how dry it was out there.

After about an hour, when class was up, we all lined up at the door.  One of my little girls was holding one hand above her head and holding that arm's sleeve open with her other hand. 

I was a little confused.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"I'm dusting in there" she replied.

Oh, well that makes sense.  I don't know why I didn't think of that in the first place.

Easter Eggs

At my little country school, our parents get together and have an Easter Egg Hunt on our playground for any kids that want to play.  The eggs have a little candy or cheap toy in them, and the kids love it.  Even my older 6th graders love to do it. 

The kids get a little too excited sometimes, as any teacher will tell you.  So before they came to get my class to go hunt eggs, I sat them down for a quick talk.  I told them that they had to set the example for the school and that they needed to really behave and mind well so that we could get everthing done and we needed their help to make everything work, and so forth and so on.

One of the last things I said was about how the parents had spent so much time and effort and money to make this happen so they should be appreciative.

One of my little girls raised her hand and I called on her.  She started telling us, "Man, my parents are cheapskates.  When I was little, they used to hide rocks for us to find." 

At this point, I'm about to pop.  That's funny.  And sad.  Mostly funny, especially if you could see this kid's face.  She was thrilled that she had a funny story to tell.

She continues, "And we had to find just the right size rock, or we didn't get no prize."

Wait a minute.  I had to ask.  "So they made you hunt for rocks, but they bought prizes?" I asked.  "What were the prizes?"

"Bigger rocks."

I was done with questions.  It was my fault.  I asked.  I should have known better, but I asked anyway.  And now I couldn't breathe.

Fast Track

Kids do tend to learn efficiently in small groups.  They seem to be able to help each other out in their own "language" and seem to connect slightly better than we adults can with each other.  It's been proven in countless studies.

Of course, as everyone knows, we don't use small groups exclusively for a few reasons.  One is that kids learn different and some learn better by using other methods.  The other main reason, as we have all experienced, is that you always get at least one partner who just wants to glide through without doing a bloody thing. 

While one of my classes was working in small groups the other day, I noticed one of the kids just sitting there while the others were working pretty hard.  He didn't even have anything in front of him to pretend to be busy with.  I've had to "sit on" this kid before for being kinda lazy, so I walked over and said, "And just what are you working on right now?"

The kid never even looked up.  "I'm waiting on them to catch up to me before I go on."  (His group members kind of rolled their eyes while they continued to work.)

Pretty creative, I totally didn't see that one coming. 

The Rabbit and the Hare

I've told in past blogs about the new playground equipment we had put in.  The kids love them, and swarm them everyday.  Even kids that are scared of heights and can't quite make it to the top or over still love to try to master it. 

I was watching a little boy climbing on the new wall, and he wasn't doing so well.  He had reached a spot near the top and was kind of just sticking there.

"You stuck?" I asked, which was a pretty stupid question. 

He looked at me like I was an idiot.  I deserved his look of disdain.  "It's time like this," he spoke to himself, "that I wonder what Jesus would do."

That's pretty funny, to be that clever while being in a spot that he was scared to death of AND having to deal with incompetent teachers like me asking him redundant questions.

His brother was nearby and answered his rhetorical question.  "If I was Him, I'd hold on tight and give myself mercy." 

They're both brilliant.

Future Therapist

Sorry about no post last Friday.  It was a little crazy.  Anyways...

I'm notorious for being single at school.  The kids like to check up on me and give me a hard time.  As I was passing out work one day, the kids were lightly picking on me.

Them:  "Get a life yet?"

Me:  "Not yet apparently."

Them:  "Still no woman, huh?"

Me:  "Guess I'm doomed to be alone forever."

I happened to be in front of one little boy who decided to give me a way out. 

He looked up at me and said, "Why settle for one when you can have 'em all?"

Bless that kid.  He passes with an "A" this year.

Not Again...

The very first post on this blog was about how I'm often mistaken for a younger person, which is annoying.  That story told how I was mistaken for one of my sixth graders, which is just pathetic.  Well, if that was funny to you (with your twisted sense of humor), then I have a follow up story.  This actually happens to me alot, but I try not to dwell on it.  Which isn't easy considering I almost get carded for buying a bottle of pop.

If you notice a gap in the posting for the last couple weeks, it's because I was at a Educational Technology Conference in Louisville.  Since I wasn't at school, I didn't post for the day.  Well, the more I think of it, the more I think this story should be shared.

What happens at a conference is that you go to sessions to learn new things to try in your classes.  At other times, they have a big room full of people that try to sell you things.  These are the fun people because they give away all kinds of stuff.  I made a killing in ink pens, but I digress.

I was walking around "shopping" with a lady from work and we stopped at one booth.  The lady at the booth talked only to my companion, and ignored me completely (which was cool because that allowed me to go behind her and jack more pens while she was distracted). 

After several minutes, she turns, looks at me, and looks back to my accomplice.  "Is this one of your students?" she asked.

I have never seen a more profound look of confusion as I did on that ladies face as we cackled ourselves away, stealing more pens for conpensation as we went.

Mt. Everest

Over the weekend, we had some new playground equipment put up.  There is a digging chair (with a little backhoe attachement in a sandpit), a climbing wall, and one of those things with a wheel that the kids spin while standing on by running on it Flintstones-style.

The kids got to play on them for the first time today.  They were so excited!  Being good at climbing, I stationed myself at the wall so I could help those that were guaranteed to get stuck at the top.  I helped several kids to climb over the top and down the other side.  Most were fine climbing, but there were a few that wanted to master their fear of heights, and a few others that didn't know they were afraid of heights til they were at the top.

One set of two little girls conquered their fears, and I was very proud of them.  They did need a bit of encouragement, however.  One mastered the wall on her second attempt, the other on her third.  The first attempt was the best.

They prepared to climb at the bottom with no racing, letting all around know that they were taking their time.  Both climbed up just fine.  At the top, however, looking down the other side was a tall order.  Our paraeducator was at the bottom urging them on.  I was at the top attempting to talk them over.  Their classmates are scattered around beneath yelling up encouragement (along with the occasional "Do a flip!"). 

They're at the top with everyone cheering them on.  They're not quite high enough to get over the bar, but also unwilling to go any higher.  Neither wants to give up.  So they look back at each other and each girl attempts to support the other girl while they climb over first.  As expected, this is getting nowhere in a hurry.

Finally, one girl looks at the other.  "That's high, isn't it?'

"Yup."

A long glance down for both of them.

"Next time, we SO got this."

"Absolutely."

And then they climbed down.  And immediately got back in line and tried again.  And again, until they got over the top.  And then they kept going.  And that's how you face a fear.

Not as funny as usual, but still very worth reading.  Take a lesson from the girls.  Never give up, and never be afraid to try new things.

Not My Time...

Our principal was doing a special lesson for social studies.  He had the room all prepared ahead of time.  On the Promethean Board was projected a picture of Arlington National Cemetary, to set the mood for the lesson as soon as the kids went into the room.

The students were lined up on the wall, but he wasn't there yet.  Since I was standing there, I told the class to go ahead on in and I'd watch them.  I hadn't yet entered the room when one of my little girls came walking slowly out of the classroom.  Her eyes were wide and she looked, well, like she had seen a ghost.

"All those graves." she said.  "There is death in that room." 

She looked up at me with those wide eyes.

"I'm too young to die!"

Clothing Malfunction

The end of the day is one of the most hectic times of the whole school day.  Kids (and teachers, but not in that order) are ready to be released and head home.  Sometimes, people get a little carried away in the rush.

One day, the kids were getting their backpacks ready to go, cleaning up their areas, and getting their jackets on.  One little boy had thrown his off in a hurry that morning and the sleeves were all pulled up inside themselves. 

He had the hood down covering his face ( he didn't intend for it to happen that way, it got pulled down in the epic struggle), both arms are about halway through the sleeves, and theres about 4, maybe five inches of arm sticking from the jacket.  Emenating from the jacket are all manner of grunts and groans and roars. 

It was hilarious.

Finally, the hood gets thrown from his eyes and he looks down at his apparent arm-less torso.  "Ahhhh!" he screams.  "All I have is nubs!"

Looking back, I probably should have helped instead of collapsing with laughter. 

Like Father, Like Son

In class, we were discussing life cycles and life spans.  We talked about how people grow as they get older and the stages that people go through.  I wanted them to think about how they change over time, so I got them to think of what their parents and older siblings look like.

"You tend to look alot like your mom or your dad, so how they look now, you might look like that someday." I told them. 

One little boy did NOT like that idea.  "But I don't want to look like my dad!" he yelled.  "I don't want a big bald spot in the back of my head!"

Genetics suck, don't they kid.

Eau De Toilette

I put my students in groups quite often.  I won't go into the educational reasons, but there are alot of good reasons for group work in school. 

Anyways, at young ages, girls and boys really hate sometimes to be put in mixed-gender groups.  Cootie scares and all, you know how it is. 

A little girl in my class was in a group with a little boy and neither of them were very happy about it.  I don't really mind.  I think everybody should learn to get along with everyone and work together as a team.  It's something we're working on. 

They were working with some different minerals, some of which had a strong odor to them.  The little girl kept making faces and holding her nose.  The boy didn't seem to mind or notice.

Finally, the little girl had had enough.  "I cannot stand this... this... smell anymore!" she exclaimed.

"What is it?" I asked, even though I had a good idea.

"I dunno." she said.  "But its pretty rough."

At this point, the boy, who had been clueless up to that point, decided to chime in.   "That's my man-stank!" he said proudly.

Upon closer examination of the situation, well, maybe it was...  He did know his stuff after all.

Teen Idol

I teach elementary age girls.  Therefore, I get daily updates as to what Zac Efron, Robert Patinson, The Jonas Brothers, and Taylor Lautner are doing with their lives.  I've never seen quite an obsession.

One little (and I do mean little) girl had a particularly medieval crush on Zac Efron.  One day at recess, a group of these love-smitten teeny-boppers are discussing their love interests WAY too closely to where I'm stationed with an aide to watch over them.  The topic for the day is: 6 packs.

Another of the little girls mentioned how hot (which is strange when coming from an eight year old girl) somebody's six pack was. 

The little girl mentioned above got a star crossed look in her eyes.  "Oh, I love those."  Then that look was replaced by one of confusion.  She looks at me.  "Wait, does Zac Efron have a six-pack?" She asks me. 

I looked at her.  "You don't know what that is?"  She shook her head no. 

I won't even touch the fact that she had just commented that it was hot.  Mostly because I don't want to think about it.

"That's when you can see the muscles in someone's belly." I informed her. 

A glint appeared in her eye.  "Oh, that is SO hot." she whispered to herself.



And that's why, Your Honor, that I can never look at Zac Efron again.

Gender Wars

In the elementary grades, there is always a competition between girls and boys.  One gender always wants to outdo the other.

One day while the kids were working on a science experiment, I was sitting next to one group helping them along.  One of the little girls was getting very frustrated with her male partners and was venting to me.

"Those boys," She'd say, "They'd slow and silly and smelly and just a big pain in the neck." (Edited slightly of course because I can't recall the exat rant she went on, but you get the idea.) 

One of her partners, who was one she was venting about, was working nearby and overheard.  He looked up slowly and in a low almost whisper said, "Hey.  I'm right here."

Poor boys.  At least he knew it was about him.

Missed Ya!

I had to go to a conference for most of a school week.  I hated being gone, but that couldn't be helped.  While I was away, we got some new students.  My first day back, I got introduced and class went on as normal.

During lunch, I walked past a table of my younger students.  Keep in mind that I have grades 3 to 6, so there's a bit of a range.  Anyway, I walked past the table and one of my little girls yelled, "I missed you!" 

That's sweet.

Another girl yelled out, "I missed you, too!" 

Well, that makes your day, doesn't it?

The new girl yells out, "Well, I kinda missed ya..."

Hey, she tried.  Nothing like the love (kinda...) of a child.

Evil Genious

My kids call me a mad scientist (which I am).  I also have them trained to call me evil (again, I am).  However, every now and then I'm far outdone by my students.

I was doing a lesson where the students had to glue some stuff onto paper.  Nothing too hard, right?  I'm walking around making sure everybody is following directions good, when I notice that one of my little boys has a crazed look in his eyes.

As I walk over to him to see what's going on, this is what I observe, in chronological order:
     *He is putting glue on the back of a little man-shaped piece of paper.
     *He slowly places the man-paper down onto the larger piece, spreading it out almost in slow motion.  He is giggling maniacally while he does this.
     *He begins to talk to the little paper man.  He is still giggling like a maniac.
     *This what he is saying to it.   "And now, you're stuck there forever...  Mwa-ha-ha...."

Holy kiddie criminal Batman, this kid's one lab accident away from supervilliany.

Rules of the Road...

One of my little boys is way too obsessed with driving.  Today, as he was leaving my room to go to his next class (which is to the left), he did something a little different.

He threw his left hip to the side and started shaking it back and forth while making "click click" noises.  I had to ask what the heck he was doing.

His answer, "Putting on my turn signal."

Of course.  Why didn't I think of that?

When you grow up...

Our special needs teacher also does interventions for us in math and reading.  She takes part of the class out at a time and just gives them all a little extra.  This happens several times a week, so they see her quite a bit.

We all like to see her, and she's very unique.  She comes up with all kinds of fun things for them to do and is quite loud voiced.

After a fun activity, I just happened to be in the copy room where she was working with a group of my kids.  One of the little girls asked her if she wanted to be a teacher someday.

She laughed for the rest of the class, leaving the little girl wondering why she thought that was funny.

Communication Error

I have previously mentioned the new guinea pig in the classroom.  Well, for an update, the little guy/girl (I'm not sure, he/she still freaks out when I try to pick it up) isn't quite as terrified as he was previously, however, he still hasn't overcome the "they're going to kill me!" urge quite yet.  He has started making some excited squeaking noises, which wikipedia assures me is a general excitement noise.  I take that as a step forward.

Based on the amount that he squeaks, I'm going to assume he's (I'm calling him a guy for now) very hyper and wants to share his energy.  The kids love to hear him "talk" to them, even though he's probably just screaming the guinea pig equivalent of "Please don't eat me!". 

During a semi-quiet moment, the kids were all working and the guinea pig was chattering on.  I looked around the room and happened to catch one of my boys doing a squinty-eyed stare at the poor creature while rubbing his temples.  It's the look you give when you're trying to telepathically kill someone. 

I asked him what he was doing, and he said, "I'm communicating with the guinea pig."  At my blank stare, he added, "He's not saying much."  Well, that's a good sign.  For the kid, anyway.

So it seems I have in my room, a guinea pig whisperer.

It's Potty Time!

Anyone thats taught for long at all knows a story like this.

I was teaching my class the other day and little boy approached.  This kid was doing the best "pee-pee" dance I've ever seen, and I've seen plenty.  This kid was twisting and turning and just barely able to walk over. 

As he got about ten feet away however, something changed.  He freezes, stands straight up, and says, "Oh yeah, I don't have to go right now."  And then walked back to his seat.

Of course, five minutes later, I get a repeat performance that actually makes it to me.  He has to go really, really bad, I'm informed.

Sure you do kid. Sure you do.

After School

Since I've been teaching, I've also worked all the afterschool projects.  It starts fairly soon after the beginning of the school year and kids can sign up and stay after school for a while to do all kinds of various things designed to help them learn while having fun.

So one day, I'm walking around to the different classes passing out forms for the interested kids to take home to their parents.

I stopped in to our first/second grade room and gave the con job about what the after school program was and what we did there and when it was and how much fun we had.  Of course almost every child raised their hand.  There's always one, however, that will stand above the crowd.

A little boy grabbed a paper from my hand with a crazed look in his eyes. "Oh you better give me one of those." he said.  "Mom wants me outta the house bad."

After keeping him for a few years, I can sympathize.

GP Level

Recently, a thoughtful person in the community donated a guinea pig to my classroom.  I have several pets in my class, making it smell the way a science class should smell.  We all do our part.

If you know much about rodents (don't we all?) then you know that guinea pigs are not specially suited for life in a classroom.   They are very nervous, timid creatures that tend to flip the heck out at crowds, loud noises, lots of people trying to pet them, etc.  So you can imagine the havok that in unleashed in their world in a hands-on classroom.

Nevertheless, I thought we'd give him a try and see how he handles it.  If he does good, we'll keep him.  If not, he can feed one of the pet snakes.  (Note: That was a joke.  The guinea pig will NOT be fed to a snake.  Guinea pigs are too large a prey for my snakes.  So we'll go with option 2; raffling him off to a willing kid.)

My largest class came in at some point, and I told them about the new pet and how nervous it is and that we need to try to be as quiet as possible (I love the little guy already.  An excuse to make them be quiet that they feel guilty about lol).  The class, normally, started to get a bit loud.  A quick glance to the cage showed that yes, our little friend was indeed flipping out by literally flipping around his cage, sometimes getting almost a foot into the air.

I watched for a moment, then yelled at the class, "Ok, you need to keep it down!  The GP (Guinea Pig) Level is too high.  Anything over four inches is just not acceptable."

I thought it was a good way to say be quiet.  And not one kid mentioned my ability to speak in parenthesis :)

The Horror!

One day, I was walking down the hallway because I needed to go to the office.  It was recess time, and the kids were in the gym with our aid.  The other teacher was watching students that were finishing work.

As I walked by her room, a little boy came out of the work room.  He throws him hands in the air and screams, "Finally!  Done with the spelling!" at the top of his lungs.

Then he pulls a "yess!" motion with his arm, followed by a rock star air-guitar rock motion.

Dramatic much?

Mouseketeer

One day, for an activity with simple machines, my students were in groups and they had to design a better mousetrap (non-lethal) that wouldn't kill the mouse.  Then, they had to design a tv ad for their invention.

One group had a great ad, featuring a mouse.  The little boy who was playing the mouse had mouse ears taped to his head and a set o f whiskers taped to his nose.  While he was preparing, I noticed him trimming his whiskers.  "What are you doing?" I asked.  I found out later he was trying to even up his whiskers.

He thought for a moment.  "Shaving." he replied.

I had never before thought about how mice would shave, but that day I did.

Avatar

One day, at lunch, a little girl walked up to the teacher table.  She was wearing an ICarly shirt, holding a huge ICarly poster.  Well, she had a friend holding the poster.  She was too busy modeling her shirt to hold anything.

"Do you think I look like anyone famous?" she asked the table.  I have to admit, she does favor the girl on the ICarly poster.  But I'll be darned if I give in that easily.

"Hannah Montana?" I venture with a smile. 

She frowns at me, puts her hand to her forehead in a searchinf-the-plains gesture and says, "Oh look, here's a girl that looks JUST LIKE ME."  At the last part, she starts butting her head toward the poster.  There's also a pretty large vein appearing on her forehead, much like Julia Roberts when she acts.

I figure she's about to pop, so I say, "Yeah, I think you look a little like ICarly."

She gives me a look and says, "You are SO slow sometimes.  Everybody else gets it first try."  Then she turns, friend in tow, and heads back to her table.

It's probably a good thing I didn't guess she looked like Punky Brewster.  She wouldn't have gotten it anyway.

Trouble

One day, as my kids trudged back from gym class, I learned that they had given the substitute teacher a hard time.  For punishem... I mean, positive reinforcement, I made them write a one-page apology letter to the gym teacher. 

Things were going well, until a little boy walked up.  He handed me his half-full paper and asked if it was enough.  "Nope, it's gotta be a full page." I told him.

"Come on!" he exclaimed.  "I can't think of anything else to write and I've already used the same sentence three times!"

Hug, Please?

One day, I was passing a little girl in the hallway.  She was sitting the hallway reading to another child.  She was very young and not in my class yet.  However, she did know me. 

As I passed, she jumped up, yelled "I want a hug!"  and wrapped her arms around me.  Boy could she squeeze.

After a few seconds passed and she hadn't let go, I started to pat her on the head and shoo her away.  Before I could manage it, however, she lets go, yells "I'm done." and sits back down, just as if nothing had happened. 

Guess she had her fix for the day.

In the Jungle...

My first day of student teaching, I walked around the room as the normal teacher was doing the lesson.  The lesson for the day was on tree rings, about how the trees grew a new layer every growing season (about one a year) so that you could tell how old a tree was.  When the lesson was finished, their assessment was to color a picture of tree rings and count them.

I walked around the room watching as the kids colored.  Most of the stumps were brown, tan, yellow, etc.  One little boy, however, was coloring wildly with every color known to man and a few that I'm pretty sure were new. 

I asked him, "Bub, what's wrong with your tree?" in a joking manner.

Without looking up, he replied, without hesitation, "Mine's gots Jungle Fever!"

I had to walk outside my first half hour of teaching just to laugh.

Justice League

At our school, we're allowed to dress casually on Fridays. 

There was a little boy there that would only call me Batman, for whatever reason.  That's the only thing he would ever call me.  I feel the need to mention he was very young, and not yet in any of my classes.  But, for all intents and purposes, I was Batman to him.

Now, I'm not the kind to pass up a good joke.  So, one casualy Friday I decide to mess with his mind, as I am apt to do.  I wore a Superman tshirt to work.  I couldn't wait to pass him in the hall to see what would happen with his customary, "Hi Batman!"

Friday comes around, I go to work in my super duds, and when the time is right, walk down the hall so that I pass him.

He looks up, hand in the air to wave and says, "Hi, Bat...."  A look of confusion crosses his face.  Finally, he shrugs, says, "Hi Batman!" and happily trods off to breakfast.

All that happened in the space of about 3 seconds.  So, it didn't matter what I was wearing, dang it, I WAS Batman.

Just to let you know, he doesn't call me that much anymore.

Lights! .... Action!

We were working with lights in my science class.  Each group was given a bulb with a half-circle reflector.  One little boy was hooking it up.  He put the bulb in the socket, and laid the reflector down, bulb side up.  Keep that thought.  Then, he plugs the cord in.

Now, this particular model has a switch on the wire, to turn the bulb on.  Remember how the boy laid the light down with the bulb pointing upward?  Kind of pointing at his face?  Let's break down the rest of the story in number format.

1. He thumbs the switch, turning the light on.
2. Light, being the selfish pain-in-the-butt it is, smacks into his face at the speed of, well, light.
3. Caught completely unaware, the little boy drops everything, covers his eyes with his hands, and proceeds to scream, "Ah!  Ah!  Ah!"  at the top of his lungs.

Sometimes, its hilarious when they don't listen.

Sticks and Stones...

I had the privelage one year of teaching summer school.  Not only that, but I got to teach kindergarten, which is a big difference from my normal grade 3 to 6 range, so I was looking forward to it. 

Of course, it was a big change and took alot of adjustment on my part, but I had a great time. 

One day, towards the close of the summer, a little girl comes up to me crying.  I kneel down and use my comforting voice to try to soothe her.  "What's wrong sweety?"

Her lip trembles a bit and she points to a little boy across the room.  She sniffles a little bit and has to fight to control herself.  "He called me sexy!"

That's kind of amusing coming from a couple of kindergartners.  However, I try to keep the smile off my face and deal with it.  However, before I can say anything, she has more to say.

"He called me sexy...  And I am NOT sexy!" she bawled.

Well, I'll have to agree.  Cute, hilarious, and adorable, are a different matter, though.

Anger Management

One of our little girls was giving me the evil eye one morning as I walked by. Since this child is not in my classes, I wondered what I had done, so I stopped to talk to her.

She was mad at our superintendent, she told me, because we were on an hour delay that morning and her class didn't get to have P.E. Which is the reason she was upset. Well, part of the reason.

Going on, she said was even madder because our superintendent, who lives close to her, stole her ice cream. Naturally, I was curious.

"He went to your house and stole your ice cream?" I asked. I had to hear this story.

"No silly." she began, "I picked out the ice cream I wanted at the store, and before we got it, he took it and left."

That's priceless.

Oh, and the kind she had picked out, that the superintendent got the last of, it was simple Neapolitan.

Stuck

I had a little girl in science class that would sit and smile like the Cheshire Cat the entire time I was in front of the class. She also had a habit of raising her hand every few minutes to ask a question. And, every time I would call on her, she would grin even bigger and say, "Hi."

So one day I'm in the front of the room and there she sits, smiling big as ever with her hand in the air. As the year had progressed, I'd tell her to only raise her hand if she had an actual question, so I was ignoring her at first. (She was still learning that particular skill) As minutes passed and her hand remained in the air, I finally decided to address it.

"If I call on you, are you going to say Hi?" I asked her.

She grinned extra big and said, "Maybe..."

I took it in stride and kept going with the lesson. Her hand stayed in the air. Thinking I would help her take the hint, I told her to put her hand down.

After I got them all to working on something, a different little girl brought me up a note, saying it was from the first one.

"Is this going to say Hi?" I asked her again.

And again, she smiled extra big and said, "Maybe..."

Sighing, I opened the note. Here's what it said, verbatim:

"I'm stuck. Could you help me?"

I looked at her. "Are you stuck?"

She smiled again and nodded yes. Her foot had been caught between the bars on her desk the entire class.

I'm not completely sure if I'm the victim or the antagonist in this story. Any thoughts?

Tourist Season

A girl was reading aloud from the social studies textbook. She got to a part that said "It's the President's job to protect us from terrorists."

What she said was, "It's the President's job to protect us from tourists."

Not bloody likely. Thanks Obama.

Inventive

During a social studies class, we somehow got on to the subject of the President's plane, Air Force One. I was just telling some random facts and mentioned, "It's supposed to be impervious to a nuclear blast."

One kid had that "thinking" look on his face, and after a few minutes, raised his hand.

"What do they make it out of?" he asked. "Cockroaches?"

I really wish I had thought of that.

Undergarments

One day, a boy walked into class with two sleeveless shirts on. Having not seen a kid wear two such shirts together, I asked him why he was wearing them that way.

He looked down, scrunched his head, and got an idea. "Oh, that's my sports bra." he said proudly.

Well, I asked.

Hug?

Our first day back after Christmas, a girl from the Kindergarten class (which I don't teach) comes up at breakfast and asks, "Can I hab a hug?"

I lean over a little and she wraps her little arms around me while I pat her head.

With arms around me, she announces, "My hands are weally, weally sticky."

Thanks sweety. Makes me all warm inside. :)