Classroom Chaos
Let's talk about terror, people.
First off, I know you're all shocked I'm back so soon. But this is important, it really is. Today, I have faced true terror, and this chronicle shall serve as a catharsis for me.
And let's address the obvious here. I'm pretty hard to scare. Not to toot my own horn, but I do deal with delinquent teenagers on a daily basis. I have been in to high schools, juvenile halls, hostile court rooms and houses full of bad guys. Before this job assignment I have worked with people in rehabs, in jails, and in prisons. I have dealt with drug addicts, murderers, rapists and thieves people. But never before have I been subjected to class time with 24 six year olds. And that, that my friends, is real fear.
There are a lot of pressures you face as a parent, but none come to play quite as dramatically as the pressure to measure up to other parents. To accomplish this task most parents enlist an inner circle of sorts. People with similar parenting styles, children of similar ages, and who you like enough to have a (or several) drinks with while you compare parenting war stories. You will then, if you are like me and my inner circle, band together to keep your children in the same classes so that you can work field trips together and as the kids get further in school you can volunteer in the classroom. This won't work for every parent. One member of my circle works 5 days a week, and can't make it. We therefore use her for carpool eavesdropping purposes. Equally important and nerve-wracking, believe me.
For those of us, however, who have different hours (I, for example, am blessed to work four 10's), it's classroom duty. You're thinking we're saintly, right? Investing in our children's futures and assisting the overwhelmed teachers? Contributing in every way possible to see every child succeed as best we can? Or maybe, in my case, you think I'm trying to intervene early to prevent delinquency later in life?
You are SO WRONG. Let me tell you why we really do it. First off, we need to keep our kids in check. Every parent in your inner circle goes into the classroom with the mindset that they are responsible for making sure that none of "our kids" gets on yellow, or God forbid, on red that day. We make sure that the answers are all right on "our kids" papers before they get handed in. And we make sure with one stern look that "our kids" sit like saints without the seemingly inevitable nose picking during story time. Yes, that's why we're standing right behind the teacher. And that's why our kids freeze halfway up, finger to nose, and their eyes widen in fear before that hand drops back to the lap below. But mainly, mainly we do it out of morbid curiosity of how our child stacks up comparatively to the other kids in classrooms. Because apparently once your child gets into first grade education becomes much more competitive for some of us. Some of us who actually resort to eavesdropping on the other reading groups to see exactly how many sight words other kids recognize...
But I was in no way prepared, people. No way. I didn't have any idea that I would have to convince Boy A to draw a picture for Boy B, which was the class assignment, despite Boy A's vehement hatred of Boy B. And why? What could cause such animosity in six year olds? Well, apparently if you call someone a butt crack during story time it creates the Shakespearian equivalent of Capulets and Montagues. Now you know.
I didn't know that first graders have attention spans shorter than my amphetamine addicts. I didn't know that when the teacher told me to help them with one simple handout on addition it would result in me, dropped to my knees by a desk, pointing emphatically at a paper while forcing the words "no, just write the ONE - all I need is for you to just write the....what are you even doing in your desk? How can you write anything with your desk open? No, it doesn't need sharpening, it's still writing... wait, where are you going? I'm sure if it was runny I would have noticed it by now...I'm kneeling right here by you after all...can you PLEASE just write the one..." through a very, very fake smile while trying to appear motherly and educational.
I didn't know that if I handed out papers during break I would reduce the paper monitor to tears.
But all of these things, people, I know them all now. And I will say this, for all who are concerned. Gavin is doing well in class. All of "our kids" are. They have very little need for me, whiz through the assignments, and leave me to students who need actual attention. The only purpose I seem to serve with "our kids" is to stop nose picking. I take it seriously, and they know I mean it. It's going well. Further, I've been out of the class for about seven hours now. I'm only one drink in, and my eye is almost done twitching. That's real progress, and by the time we get to progress reports I may be able to leave the class without the shakes. Fingers crossed.
Lastly, I have been rethinking previous gifts for teacher appreciation week. Teacher's deserve ponies, for the love of Pete. I may have to start budgeting now for the appropriate present in case the teacher this year makes it through without an actual mental breakdown and still manages to educate my child ...because that class is scary people. Scary.
I'll stick to the delinquent teenagers.
Until next time.
First off, I know you're all shocked I'm back so soon. But this is important, it really is. Today, I have faced true terror, and this chronicle shall serve as a catharsis for me.
And let's address the obvious here. I'm pretty hard to scare. Not to toot my own horn, but I do deal with delinquent teenagers on a daily basis. I have been in to high schools, juvenile halls, hostile court rooms and houses full of bad guys. Before this job assignment I have worked with people in rehabs, in jails, and in prisons. I have dealt with drug addicts, murderers, rapists and thieves people. But never before have I been subjected to class time with 24 six year olds. And that, that my friends, is real fear.
There are a lot of pressures you face as a parent, but none come to play quite as dramatically as the pressure to measure up to other parents. To accomplish this task most parents enlist an inner circle of sorts. People with similar parenting styles, children of similar ages, and who you like enough to have a (or several) drinks with while you compare parenting war stories. You will then, if you are like me and my inner circle, band together to keep your children in the same classes so that you can work field trips together and as the kids get further in school you can volunteer in the classroom. This won't work for every parent. One member of my circle works 5 days a week, and can't make it. We therefore use her for carpool eavesdropping purposes. Equally important and nerve-wracking, believe me.
For those of us, however, who have different hours (I, for example, am blessed to work four 10's), it's classroom duty. You're thinking we're saintly, right? Investing in our children's futures and assisting the overwhelmed teachers? Contributing in every way possible to see every child succeed as best we can? Or maybe, in my case, you think I'm trying to intervene early to prevent delinquency later in life?
You are SO WRONG. Let me tell you why we really do it. First off, we need to keep our kids in check. Every parent in your inner circle goes into the classroom with the mindset that they are responsible for making sure that none of "our kids" gets on yellow, or God forbid, on red that day. We make sure that the answers are all right on "our kids" papers before they get handed in. And we make sure with one stern look that "our kids" sit like saints without the seemingly inevitable nose picking during story time. Yes, that's why we're standing right behind the teacher. And that's why our kids freeze halfway up, finger to nose, and their eyes widen in fear before that hand drops back to the lap below. But mainly, mainly we do it out of morbid curiosity of how our child stacks up comparatively to the other kids in classrooms. Because apparently once your child gets into first grade education becomes much more competitive for some of us. Some of us who actually resort to eavesdropping on the other reading groups to see exactly how many sight words other kids recognize...
But I was in no way prepared, people. No way. I didn't have any idea that I would have to convince Boy A to draw a picture for Boy B, which was the class assignment, despite Boy A's vehement hatred of Boy B. And why? What could cause such animosity in six year olds? Well, apparently if you call someone a butt crack during story time it creates the Shakespearian equivalent of Capulets and Montagues. Now you know.
I didn't know that first graders have attention spans shorter than my amphetamine addicts. I didn't know that when the teacher told me to help them with one simple handout on addition it would result in me, dropped to my knees by a desk, pointing emphatically at a paper while forcing the words "no, just write the ONE - all I need is for you to just write the....what are you even doing in your desk? How can you write anything with your desk open? No, it doesn't need sharpening, it's still writing... wait, where are you going? I'm sure if it was runny I would have noticed it by now...I'm kneeling right here by you after all...can you PLEASE just write the one..." through a very, very fake smile while trying to appear motherly and educational.
I didn't know that if I handed out papers during break I would reduce the paper monitor to tears.
But all of these things, people, I know them all now. And I will say this, for all who are concerned. Gavin is doing well in class. All of "our kids" are. They have very little need for me, whiz through the assignments, and leave me to students who need actual attention. The only purpose I seem to serve with "our kids" is to stop nose picking. I take it seriously, and they know I mean it. It's going well. Further, I've been out of the class for about seven hours now. I'm only one drink in, and my eye is almost done twitching. That's real progress, and by the time we get to progress reports I may be able to leave the class without the shakes. Fingers crossed.
Lastly, I have been rethinking previous gifts for teacher appreciation week. Teacher's deserve ponies, for the love of Pete. I may have to start budgeting now for the appropriate present in case the teacher this year makes it through without an actual mental breakdown and still manages to educate my child ...because that class is scary people. Scary.
I'll stick to the delinquent teenagers.
Until next time.
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