Man Clothes

I like to consider myself decently fashion-forward.  You know those new blazers that the H & M models always wear?  With a bit of a masculine touch?  As soon as I saw that trend, I jumped on the bandwagon.  Guys' trends are so much more comfortable than girls' trends.  So I wore it to school last week with a pair of skinny jeans and a long, knotted pearl necklace.  The kids looked me up and down as soon as I entered.  I could see their eyes judging my outfit, as I always see them doing.  Usually, though, they approve of my fashion.  Today, some of their faces looked like they were sucking on lemons.

"Miss V., you really should only wear that to church."

I still think
it's cute.

I thought about that.  Well, at least this kid has a standard of dressing up to go to church!  Too many people wear jeans with holes and t-shirts to church nowadays, but that's for another day.  Some of them touched the blazer.  Some of them tried to spill things on it so I'd have to take it off.  Some just couldn't look away.  I'm not one to feel self conscious about my outfits especially, but these kids' eyes were burning into my soul.  I mentioned before that these blazers had a bit of a masculine touch.  Maybe it was a bit more than a bit.  I reflected on that after I heard this comment by Jason.

"Miss V., are you a lady?"

Signed,

Miss V.

"I can't have that...."

It sure seems that most of my exciting stories occur within the confines of the lunch hour.  This is no exception.  Do you remember in elementary school how you would need permission to leave the lunch room?  For me, here's how it would go:

I would scrounge up the few good parts of the lunch (some Pringles or Oreos) and eat ALL of it.  For my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and whole grain bread, I'd just tear it into a bunch of little pieces, creating the illusion that I ate a lot of it.  I'd stick my apple in my neighbor's lunch box when they weren't looking and "drop" my carrot sticks.  Then I'd raise my hand and ask if I could leave.  The lunch lady would come over, stare straight into my soul, then hesitantly let me go outside to recess. And so was life.  I am now the evil lunch lady, ordering students to eat "three more bites" and making them "sit on their back pockets." 

I tried a lot of different strategies in an attempt to eat as little as possible and go outside as early as possible.  I thought those strategies were pretty clever.  But I never tried this.....

Oliver raises his hand.  I open his lunch box and peer inside.  I look at him.  Reading my mind, he says,

"I'm allergic to apples.  And eggs. And carrots."

Why is it always the healthy
 things they're allergic to?

"Honey, being allergic to something isn't the same as not liking it."

"I AM allergic.  I promise." (All while avoiding eye contact).

"You're allergic to all three??"

"I swear."

The kid wasn't budging. 

"If I asked your mom, would SHE say that you were allergic to apples, eggs and carrots?"

Pause.  Long pause.  How can I answer this so that I won't have to eat these healthy things?

"No, but she doesn't know I'm allergic."

"Well how about this, Oliver.  How about you pick the thing you're LEAST allergic to and eat three bites of that?"  In an attempt to withhold the three-bite theory.

He agreed.  You know, I wish I would have thought of this when I was a young elementary-schooler.  Very clever.  I give him props.  Some students just want attention when they bring up allergies (like the girl who wouldn't smell my chocolate scratch-n-sniff sticker I put on her valentine because she's "allergic" to chocolate) but this little feller just wanted to go out to recess.  I understand that.  I should have just let him go.

Signed,
Miss V.

THAT Kid

Well, it's Easter.  Which means it's a time to incorporate the Easter Bunny into as much instruction as possible.  Which also means that, instead of learning math, it's completely acceptable to complete an Easter-related dot to dot.  I mean, hey, at least they're practicing their counting.  I picked out an Easter basket for them to color.  However, instead of an Easter basket, they thought it was:

"A bow!"

"A picnic!"

"A turtle!"

Next time, maybe I'll choose an Easter bunny dot to dot.  That'd be hard to mess up.  Anyway, I thought it'd be a good time to talk to the kids a little bit.  What I didn't realize is that five year olds can't multi-task....unless they're coached through it.  So the first group was a bit of a circus. I asked them questions like,

"What's your favorite thing about Easter?"

And in response, kids would be flying out of their chairs, their mouths traveling a mile (or ten miles) a minute, telling me about all of the hiding spots their parents use for easter egg hunts.  And let's not forget their need to outdo each other.  When the next group came, I told them, "I'm going to ask you questions while you complete your dot to dot.  You can still color while you talk.  If you have something you want to add to our conversation, touch your nose."  I called on Amber.

"Um, ummm, um, ummm, we get to eat chicken nuggets.  And.  AND my daddy hides eggs for us to find."

Next.

"My dad hides eggs under the bed."

"We have eggs in the closet."

"Well my mom is friends with the Easter bunny, so he comes to our house first and he gives baskets to all the kids."

And this is why I said it lasted for three minutes.  Up until this point, touching your nose before talking worked great.  Until Matt blurted out.

"The Easter bunny isn't real!"

Yes, Matt is THAT kid.  Shock and awe around the table.  Miss V, time for crisis control here.  Do you lie and say, "Oh, silly Matt!  There's an Easter bunny and he'll bring treats for you all."  Because they'll remember that, and they'll remember the fact that I lied. 

Do I agree with him and break the hearts of my students?  "Yep, he's right.  There's no Easter bunny.  Sorry, kids."  Lord knows I'd get angry calls from parents.

Instead, I just gave Matt the famous teacher death stare.  This is something I've mastered and, very humbly I say, something I'm quite good at.  He got the point.  But was it too late?  Could I have gone about this in a better way? The Easter bunny may now be dead to some.....

Signed,
Miss V. (The partially responsible)

Hypnotize Me

I was left alone with the children yesterday for about an hour.  It was a little out of control.  During the last hour of school, the kids always have "calendar time" where they use the SmartBoard to talk about weather, days of the week, months of the year, etc.  Since I'd never done it before, I wasn't completely confident with the process.  Which led to the children all shouting at once what I should be doing.

"Miss V, after you pick a stick out of the WHITE cup, you need to put it in the RED cup."

"Um, we're supposed to count by 5's, NOT 10's."

"Miss V, Victoria's not supposed to be pulling people's hair."

"We have to do the 'days of the week' song, you pushed the 'months of the year' song."

As you can see, they all had good intentions.  But, it was a circus for awhile.  They all felt like they had something VERY important to say.  In order to get them back on track, I had them fulfill a "quiet minute" at their desks with their heads down.  Kindergartners don't like to put their heads down.  They obviously had told the head teacher about their "terrible behavior" because when I came in today, they all apologized.  That's what I love about Kindergartners: they have guilty consciences and they tell on themselves.

Indoor recess today.  What do you expect when it's sleeting outside?  Cool, Michigan. 
We have a few buckets of toys that we use during indoor recess.  One of the very special children, Angelica, took a string out of the bucket that she found.  She called me over and began waving it in front of my face.

"Miss V, watch the string."

I followed the string with my head, turning it back and forth each time she swung it.

"No, with your EYES."

Alright then.  I followed her directions.  She moved it back and forth for at least 4 seconds before she said,

"Miss V.  Are you hip-tized yet?"

Signed,
Miss V.

White Pants = No No

I went to Old Navy last week for their Clearance Extravaganza.  Let me tell you, it was insane.  Not as insane as my Kindergartners, but pretty close.  I got this awesome pair of white pants that fit me like a dream for $7.50.  Yes, you read that right.  Needless to say, I was very excited to wear them.....

The next day, I made one of the worst decisions of my life.  I was so excited about the pants that I literally changed my clothes right away in the morning.  Before I even brushed my teeth.  Or made my coffee.  That's how exciting these pants are.  This is what I overlooked: I had to go to school that day.  With five year olds.  That play with paint.  And wipe their ketchup on you when they give you hugs.  As soon as I left from my college class to school, I was made aware of this.  I looked down and realized that these pants were never going to be the same. 

I made it through lunch.  It was a wonder I did, too.  I handled the hugs like a pro.  I kneeled so that would hug my shoulders instead of my waist.  To the extra messy ones, I gave high fives.  Then came recess.  I figured I would hang out on the blacktop next to the jumpropers instead of play kickball like I normally do.  Then, something came up.  And when doesn't it? 

There was an emergency on the monkey bars.  Ricky was stuck.  His geled hair was sticking high above the bars as he yelled, "Misssssssssss Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv!" I ran over to the monkey bars to the frantic child.  He was hanging from the bars and couldn't swing any further.  But he didn't want to let go.  It's not much of a fall, but for a five year old, the view from up there is probably comparable to us looking down as we're about to skydive. 

"Ricky, I'm right beneath you.  Just let go of the monkey bars and I'll catch you.  I promise."

His eyes got huge.  The other kids coaxed him.  "Come on, Ricky! You can do it!"

Finally, he let his hands drop.  I fulfilled my promise.  I caught him. I felt like a fireman saving a cat or something.  I was on top of the world! Until I looked down at my pants.  And realized that Ricky had just been playing in the mud.  Two boot prints were easily identified on my white pants.  This was during the first half hour of me being at school.

Not QUITE as bad as this poor soul

Some kids laughed as I walked down the hallway.  The teachers snickered.  The principal looked stunned.  They all understood; they'd all been there, done that.  However, I had a dinner date right after school.......

I raced to CVS to get a Tide-to-go pen to see if I could work a miracle.  Those were $3.79.  I saw a comparable product (CVS brand) for $1.99 and decided on that.  Let me tell you, readers, the extra two bucks would have been worth it.  This pen lessened the stain, but then instead of looking brown, it looked yellow.  No, I didn't pee my pants, but it looked that way. 

And of course, we had to go to Marie Catrib's in East Grand Rapids where rich, stylish parents feed their infants hummus.  I ordered a delicious "adult grilled cheese" and spilled the pepper sauce on my pants. 

Oh, the life of a Kindergarten teacher...

Signed,
Miss V.

Bonkers

"What I have to say is so much more
important than what YOU have to say."

Have you ever been talking to a group of kids and it's apparent that the only thing they're trying to do is outdo each other? For me, every day of my life.  If you actually believe what they're saying, though, and you're imaginative about it, it's pretty funny.  This situation again happened during the hustle and bustle of lunch time.  They're all vying for my attention to begin with. 
One kid asks, "Do you know my last name?"

"Yes.  Suero."  But silly me, I pronounced the "r."

"No, Miss V.  It's 'Suedo'."

"OK.  Yes, Suedo.  Sorry."

"Please just call me Carlos."

"Of course." No, I'm going to call you Carlos Suero...err....Suedo.

"Miss V.  Where did you get your shirt?"

I was pretty proud of my shirt and this little youngster for noticing that I had a new shirt on.

"I got it at Younkers!  My mom works there."

"I like it.  MY mom works at Younkers, too."

"Oh, really?"

Voices started piping up from everywhere.

"My mom works at Younkers too!"

"So does my mom!"

"My younger sister works at Younkers."

"My mom works at Bonkers."

"My mom does too!"

And I say, "Hmm, I wonder if they all know each other?"

They all nodded their heads as if to say, "Yes, all of our family members who are coincidentally ALL Younkers employess are best friends and we have barbecues together all the time."

Younkers must have a lot of employees.  And I thought the economy was down....

So, go to Younkers.  I'm sure you'll be able to find the help you need.

Signed,
Miss V.

Fat Camp

Have you ever seen the movie Heavy Weights?  If you haven't, get on it.  If it's not your type of humor, at least you'll be entertained by all the chunker children in the cast.  As an added bonus, you get to see Ben Stiller posing as an insane fat camp director.  Anyway, there's a boy in my class that could definitely be part of that cast.  It's very interesting because his parents are both normal-sized. 



If this doesn't make you want to see Heavy Weights.....




Usually, at lunchtime Billy stocks up on things drowned in sugar. Kids have to choose two things from the fruit/veggie bar so Billy decides on canned peaches (with dense sugary syrup) and carrots (if you can find them under the ranch dressing).  However, over spring break, I think Billy had an epiphany.  He came to lunch today with a new attitude.


"Miss V.  What can I eat today?  I'd like to keep my weight down."  (These words were implanted via his parents, I'm sure).

"Well, Billy, celery is good for you.  You can eat some of those."

He looked thoughtful (and thankful).  "OK."

He grabbed about 8 sticks of celery.  In my mind I'm thinking, Yes, I taught this kid something about healthy living! Ya know, eating celery actually BURNS calories.  Usually, I'm not pro-dieting, especially for five and six year olds, but this is a special case.  This is a big boy.

The last stop at the fruit/veggie table is the ranch dressing pit stop.  I turned away to help Angel open her animal crackers.  When I turned back to help Billy with his healthy eating choices, I saw that everything was ruined. 

......Would you like some celery with that ranch?

Moral of the story: DIETING is ineffective for children. 
Exhibit A: Heavy Weights
Exhibit B: Billy

Signed,
Miss V.

EVERYBODY needs a break.

SPRING BREAK TIME!!!!

This is what your students are doing.......

This is what teachers are doing.....

  

 Wait a minute.....aren't these your students too?



What's in the cups??



The Innocence

March is National Reading Month.  Our school does a great job coming up with themed activities; we have contests between grade levels with the amount of books read and we also do a scavenger hunt competition.  Additionally, on Tuesdays, everyone (including teachers!) wears a t-shirt with words and jeans. The words on the t-shirt are supposed to promote reading.  Seriously, my favorite day.  Any day somebody's TELLING me to wear jeans and a t-shirt is a good day.  And, to top it off, you can look spirited.

Now as you know, I teach Kindergardners.  As you may NOT know, they're not avid readers yet.  Many of them still sound it out by stretching the letter sounds.  For example: the word CAT would be read cuh-a-tuh.  CAT! The word DOG would be read duh-o-guh.  DOG!  The word ELEPHANT would be read, e-luh-e-puh-ha-a-un-tuh.  Eluhepuhha....um I forgot.

Typical t-shirt designs:
Words are ALWAYS on the boobs

I wore a Hope College Dance Marathon t-shirt this past Tuesday.  It said: Dance Marathon.  Giving Hope to Kids.  Now, some of these words are tough, and they require "sounding out."  Sidenote: when we (teachers/administrators) come up with days like this, we don't really think of the things that could happen.  And here's what I mean.  We don't take into account that when a child doesn't know a word, he sounds it out.  How does he do that?  Of course, by touching each letter and making the corresponding sound.  Yes, I said touching.  That's how they do it with their books.  And when they mess up, they start back over at the beginning of the word (remember how many tough words were on my shirt?). They don't see a difference between books and t-shirts. Can you guess where the words on my t-shirt were written?  Where most words are.  RIGHT across my boobs.  How many times did I get felt up by a Kindergardner that day?  I'd probably say close to 87.

Signed,
Miss V.

Sweater Weather

I am still a full time student taking 16 credits.  We, however, have spring break this week so my only responsibility is the Kindergartners.  I'm also staying at my parent's house because it's much closer to my school than my college is. 

There are definite perks of being at home.  A nice, comfy bed.  A home cooked meal here and there (rather than turkey that's been in the fridge too long).  A bathtub.  BUT there is one obvious drawback.  Ninety eight percent of my belongings are still at school.  My wardrobe at home is quite limited (I don't like to pack).  Before I got dressed for school today, I noticed that the things I brought home were things you don't wear in cold weather.  They were things I wore last week, so I figured I'd be okay.  Nope.  Thanks, Michigan.  Gotta love the weather changes.  I did, however, bring one sweater home.  A nice, bulky one.  I put it on, along with some pants from my mom's closet.  I looked in the mirror.  A shudder.  I looked huge.  Welp, not much I could do about it.  I finished getting ready and headed to school.

I walked into the cafeteria and heard the usual responses.  My class instantly saw me and psychoticly waved me over to their tables (they haven't caught on that that's ALWAYS where I go, even when they're not waving me over).  Every single one of them felt like they had to give me updates on their lives (their pets, their sisters, their aunts, their cousins, their loose teeth, their new shirt, their cut fingernails, their new dance moves). 

"My cat got runned over."

"Oh, Sergei, I'm sorry to hear that."  (And this is what I ORIGINALLY thought I would base my blog on for the day).  However, just seconds later, it got much better.

Sam calls me over.  "Miss V, you look BIGGER every time I see you!"

Oh my word.  I don't know whether to laugh or cry about this.  I think he was trying to be nice (he probably feels good when Great Uncle Freddy tells him he looks bigger every time he sees him), but he didn't have the same effect on me.  I mean, I knew it was a bulky sweater, but geez.  I asked him what he meant by that.  He couldn't answer.  I got home and immediately put my sweater in the Goodwill Donations pile. 

Signed,
Miss V.

SAINT PATRICK'S DAY

It's been awhile since I've been in an elementary school on Saint Patrick's Day.  Yes, I forgot to wear green.  So you can imagine my surprise when, as soon as I walked in the door, a random third grader walked up and pinched me with no reservations.  And that was one of about 86 throughout the day.

In addition to consuming leprechaun juice and leprechaun treats (green Kool-aid and green Rice Krispy treats), we had a Saint Patty's Day activity planned.  We had letter cut-outs spelling SAINT PATRICK'S DAY on the board.  I had the students rearrange the letters found in those words in order to come up with as many new words as possible.  They found "a", "is" and "it" right away.  As quality as those words are, I challenged them to come up with some longer words.  We've been talking about rhyming a lot lately.

"What letters could we put at the beginning of "it" to make another word?"

This gave us "sit", "kit" and "pit".  They were quite proud of themselves.

A very bright student named Ricky then surprised me.  Kindergartners surprising me: pretty standard. 

"Saint Patrick's Day.  Can we make the word 'tricks'?"

Nice work, Ricky. 

"Yes we can!"

Well, then we were on the whole rhyming stint.  Carly offered sick.  Becca offered ticks.  Jake offered picks.  Kelly offered kicks (which has an extra k, yes).  Then, you probably guessed it.

"DICKS!" yelled Jordan.

Oh, Lord.  Chances are, these kids don't know what a dick is.  If I refuse to put it on the board, they'll know it's "naughty".  Then at recess, that's the only word I'm going to hear.  They'll probably make a chant out of it or something.  

So, I bit the bullet.  I crossed my fingers, praying that no one would pass the classroom within the next five minutes.  I wrote "dicks" on the board.  Yes, I wrote it small and it was the first word I erased.

P.S. There IS a store called Dick's Sporting Goods.  This is me rationalizing.

Signed,
Miss V.

...It was only Just A Dream....Thanks, Nelly

Do you ever wonder what television shows kids are watching nowadays?  I mean, I'm not sure I can compile a list of "appropriate" tv shows anymore.  My parents wouldn't let me watch Rugrats, for crying out loud! (Angelica was super mean).  Well, being with kids all the time, I'm always curious as to what they watch in their spare time.  I received a little insight on that today....

Sally came over to talk to me as I was passing out animal crackers to the rest of the class (whatever happened to snack time past Kindergarten, anyway?).  She obviously had a pressing matter on her hands. 

"Miss V."

"Yes, Sally?"

"How old are you?"

"How old do you think I am?"  Seriously, my favorite question to ask.  The responses are hysterical.

"21."  WOW! Now this was impressive.  I didn't hear a "twelve" or a "ninety eight" or a "sixty five" or a "three hundred."  This girl has some number sense.

"You're right! Good guess."

"Are you in college?"

"Yes."

"I knew you were in college. I saw you on the news."

Hmmm.  Did I get some air time that I didn't know about?

"Really?"  I knew it probably wasn't true, but I couldn't help the tinge of excitement I felt.  "What was I doing?"

"Nothing really.  We just saw a picture of your bathroom."

That's when I realized that I wasn't really on the news.  But I still sometimes like to mess with kids (ahem, I mean, encourage their creativity).  "What did it look like?"

She went on to describe the colors, the seahorse shower curtain and the toilet paper left in the toilet.  "It wasn't very clean, Miss V."

Oooooh, my bad.  "I'll make sure to clean it up when I get home, Sally."

Apparently, that's all she needed to hear.  She went back to her seat and held her hands out for an animal cracker.

Moral of the story: while some kids are out there watching MTV (which I can attest to after seeing a few girls practice their belly-dancing routines) or Spongebob (that sponge is seriously hilarious), there are others that are watching the news.  Or maybe dreaming it. 

Signed,

Miss V.







What I couldn't watch



What they shouldn't watch



But Miss V, I HAD to cheat.

So, today was Wacky Hair Day.  I didn't think my hair was THAT crazy, but I was proven wrong after walking through the school doors.  "Miss V, you look craaaazy!"  Thanks, guys.

On Fridays we usually go to a 4th grade classroom where my students have "reading buddies."  We walk over to the classroom only to realize that our 4th graders were unavailable.  Well, it's Friday I suppose. I can probably get away with playing "Heads up, Seven up." 

This game is very easy to cheat at.  So, I thought I'd be proactive (with five year olds, you have to be). 

"Now, we're going to try and be very sneaky.  Remember...you don't want to tell your classmates whose thumb you pressed.  And you probably don't want to pick your best friends, otherwise they'll know you picked them.  So, who wants to get picked?"

Obviously everybody raises their hand.  "Now remember, if you're peeking, you're not going to get picked.  Put your heads on your arms, close your eyes and put your thumbs up."

The kids scurry around as quietly as possible (which is usually high school basketball game noise level). I see a boy, Randy, peeking.  I make eye contact with him.  He looks scared.  I say, "Heads up, Seven up" and before I go on...Randy interrupts.

"Miss V.  You know why I had to peek?  I didn't have a good way to put my eyes down."

Ooooooooook, Randy.  I went on to show him how exactly he could go about putting his eyes down successfully.

Signed,
Miss V.

Confusion Between Heads and Butts

Approximately 1:30 pm, same day:
During rest time, I pull students one by one to have them come read to me.  This is just a way to measure their progress and to improve on their fluency.  I call Craig to the table so he could read his level 2 book to me.  Most of the kids are on level 6, but Craig struggles a bit.

He reads the first 6 pages with ease (although it was obvious he had memorized it).  I try not to count that against them.  You never want to tell a child that they're not really reading. Kind of a dagger to the heart there.

On the last page, there is a "speech balloon."  A hippopotamus is saying something really important like, "This water is nice."  You know how meaningful words in these books are at this age. Or maybe you don't.  They're not meaningful at all.

He reads this with ease too.  But my question throws him off.  "Craig, why is there a bubble coming out of the hippo's head?"  And as I look back, I realize the question could have been clearer.

He pauses, obviously thinking, then answers, "....is he farting?"

Um, no Craig.

Signed,
Miss V.

"A Doctor Screws in Your Head"

Approximately 12:13 pm:
I walk into the lunchroom where my students are eating ever so peacefully (NOT). I am welcomed by a chorus of "Miss V, Miss V, MISS V!" in the sing-song voices of the precious children.  A kid spills chocolate milk on my pants.  Awesome. 

"Can you open my fruit snacks?"

"Can you tie my shoe?"

"I need to go to the BATHROOM!"

"I like your shirt."

"I like your hair."

"I like your shirt AND your hair."

I try to acknowledge each child as quickly as possible.  They'd keep you for hours if they could.  One boy, we'll call him Davy, raises his hand ever so calmly.  You don't see that everyday.  What a nice change.  I walk over to him, excited for a mature conversation.

"Miss V.  When you have brain surgery, a doctor SCREWS IN YOUR HEAD.  They use four screws."

Yeah, never expect a mature conversation with a Kindergartner.

Signed,
Miss V.

Introduction

So, last semester I did my student teaching in an 8th grade classroom.  Hormones raged, lip gloss was overused and armpits smelled.  To have a passion to teach middle school....now that's crazy.

This semester, a school in West Michigan called me up to let me know that there was an opening in their district.  I took it (blindly).  I didn't know the specific district, school or grade.  About two hours before my job started, an administrator let me know what school I was to drive to.  I motored up to the office, excited for my classroom assignment.  That is, until the principal vocalized the dreaded word......"KINDERGARTEN."  She seemed to smile at my obvious pain.  Yes, middle school teachers are crazy, but Kindergarten teachers are even crazier.

Kids say the darndest things.  Remember that show?  Yeah, well it's true.  And I am here to share with you just how darn nutty they can be.  Real names will be changed to protect my students' privacy.

Signed,
Miss V.