Emotionally spend, and yet...

Today was another one of those days. A day when you and your fellow teachers try your best to be in all places, have your eyes on all problems, positively impact all children. But somehow, somewhere, you feel like you failed. It doesn't happen often, but there are times when you see an email in your in-box from a parent and you think, "Oh, crap." We got one today from a parent whose three-year old has been saying he no longer wants to come to school because he is being hit by another child. And so we scramble - to address their concerns, to check in with other teachers to learn what they've witnessed, to bring administration into the loop, and to also respect the fine line of confidentiality that we owe to the other parents who are working with us on these issues with their son. We have to find the right words to say, "We hear what you're saying, we're taking precautions, and....we can't tell you more." It's hard. Today I wanted to hand the ball to someone else and say, can you please carry this load for me? I have invested way too much time, energy and tears on this child, and I don't have anything more I can give. At least not today, not this week, not right now. But I'm a teacher - I can't shift responsibility to someone else. Fortunately, there was one glimmer of humor in the day. After calling the concerned mom this afternoon to tell her we take her concerns seriously, she mentioned her son was also saying unusual things she'd never heard before. I cringed, as I knew part two of the issues we're addressing with this impulsive and physically aggressive child relate to verbal statements that range from telling others they're stupid to violent wording about cutting off people's heads. I waited for whatever offending phrase was about to come from this mother that would send chills down my spine. Instead, she said, "Yesterday, Daniel came home and told his little brother, 'You're behaving just like Hugh Hefner!' " I burst into laughter. Hugh Hefner?! I wouldn't even use a reference to him, and I at least know who he is! The mom and I agreed that, under the circumstances, we would give the offending comment a pass. Who would have thought that the founder and publisher of Playboy would make his way into my preschool classroom, c. 2017?!

My New Favorite Quote

Eli has really had me scratching my head this year. On the one hand, he is the sweetest, most endearing little three-year old you could ever meet. And then, at the drop of a hat, his lack of impulse control gets the better of him as he reaches out and scratches someone across the face who has frustrated him. He's also been known to say pretty violent things to others, though we would all agree he doesn't even comprehend the true intent behind such things when he says them. For months now, we've been trying to strike a balance - helping him manage his stress with calm, soothing words while also trying to hold a firm line about our expectations. These events, however, are a daily occurrence, and some days I have more patience than others. Yesterday, Eli had already had an incident of pushing someone who was not sharing a toy he wanted. Now it was snack time, and in his boredom he was provoking another classmate. When Kenny came to tell me, "Eli just told me he was going to chop off my mom's head," I had no more sympathy left. I told Eli we were headed to Maggie's office. Maggie, our Head of Lower School, is a warm, belly-laughing New York native who loves children - but you don't want to be repeatedly sent to her office for reprimanding. Eli had already been once in the last month, and he wasn't looking forward to going there again. When Maggie saw us sitting outside her office, she knew she had to play hardball. After hearing me explain what had happened, she told Eli he would have to sit silently at her desk while she worked. "If you can't use safe hands and kinds words with your friends, you can't be out playing with them." She told me later Eli sat there for about ten minutes before the tears started to appear. At first, she could not understand what he was saying, and had to ask him a few times to speak up. Finally, she deciphered what he was trying to say: "I...just need a hug...from someone...NOT YOU!" That qualifier sent me into a fit of laughter. Twice I have passed Maggie in the hall, and softly replied when she asked me how I was doing, "I just...need a hug...but Not You!" It has become my new favorite phrase for the month. As for Eli, the jury's still out. Three-year olds are a delicate breed - you can't rationalize, intimidate or cajole them as much as slightly older kids - they really, truly can only do what they are developmentally ready to do. So we will start again fresh on Monday, with lots of hugs, kinds words, and clear expectations, hoping to get him through this tough first year in preschool.

This is how we roll...

I wasn't even suppose to be there, in the classroom. It was my break, and I usually spend it elsewhere because it's so easy to get sucked in when you're in close proximity to the yard - and the kids. Babysitting a roly poly was not on my list of things I had hoped to get done today. I had just unpacked all of my bills that needed to be paid, laying them out on a large table while I searched for stamps at the bottom of my bag. Within a few minutes, I spotted Bobby Kim headed to the refrigerator to retrieve an ice pack for a downed peer. In his hand was a small stick with something balancing precariously on top. Helping out a friend was one thing, but this was going to be quite a challenge: how was one suppose to juggle a multi-legged creature on a stick while simultaneously opening a freezer door? I watched his first few attempts with mild amusement. After a third try, he sheepishly walked over and asked me with more than a hint of frustration in his voice, "Carla, can you..hold this...just for a minute?!" And that is how I came to be in possession of a ropy poly, one that was quickly striding across a piece of wood headed towards my arm. "Uh...Bobby...you better hurry up! He's on the move!" "That's because I've been teaching him how to walk the tightrope," he informed me. Bobby grabbed the ice pack and quickly rushed back over to rescue his new prodigy. And then, like a flash, both were gone. This is how we serve our community around here - we retrieve ice packs and watch each other's roly polies. Who says chivalry is dead?