How Can We Be?

Now that my pretty little carpet has once again been urinated upon, I'm reminded that I haven't updated in a while. Last week I received my first holiday gift: a mug that says "Dentist." This gem was lovingly bestowed upon me by an adorable seven-year-old, who smiled sheepishly and proclaimed that she'd picked it out especially for me. How fitting. By the way, I'm closing the office for the holidays, so if you find yourself in need of an emergency root canal, it's not my problem.

Today I received a handmade card that said, "Happy Hanukkah," with a picture of Santa Claus beneath it.

I kid, but the mug and card are proudly displayed in my office--I truly appreciate both and love, love, love the children in my school. I have picked out more than a dozen I'd take home with me in a second.

Ok, I need to get back to pondering "how we all got here" so that I can get back to an anxious six-year-old with some sort of intelligible (or cop-out) answer.

Bye.

P.S. A young child walked out of my office a few weeks ago declaring that the hallway was "moist." How to respond?

Going Going Gone

I am truly a model of dedication to serving the little people. Yesterday I spent over 30 minutes combing the hallway for a lost tooth. The poor girl had quite literally lost her tooth. Somehow while being closely examined by another six-year-old friend (eww) on the way to the nurse, the tooth slipped out of her hand and skid across the floor. Feeling mighty guilty, the friend was found doing quite an impressive split while frantically searching for the lost enamel gem. Of course the hallways have been cleverly designed to disguise dirt and any sort of small object with their multicolored speckled tiles. I ran to the custodian to borrow a broom so that I could try to sweep it up. Despite a valiant search with the giant broom, several minutes of crawling around on hands and knees, recruitment of kindergarten teachers, second grade students, and the assistant principal, the tooth was not found. Devastated, the first grader slumped back to her classroom sans the necessary evidence to present to the Toothfairy. I decided to write a quick note to her parents, explaining the situation, including, "I suspect that the Toothfairy will understand." I tossed and turned all night wondering if indeed the Toothfairy had graciously left a monetary gift despite the lack of usual exchange. Or perhaps my little friend awoke to find merely a note scribbled, "No deal."

You never know....in my experience the Toothfairy was rather unpredictable. I once received a fake coin (in exchange for the fake tooth my sister and I hid). Often I received an admonishing note indicating that my tooth was not up to cleanliness standards. You just never knew.

Fear Factor

Ok I'm here to complain, something I do quite well if I do say so myself. I have been sick for six days, and my only souvenir from going to the doctor for advice is a pin cushion of an arm that is sure to turn a lovely shade of yellowish brown by morning. Why is getting blood work such a big ordeal for me? Those shy veins of mine get me every time. I even warned the lady that my veins are tiny and that I get worked up when people talk to me about how difficult it is to draw my blood. I believe my exact words were, "Please don't talk to me." Well, that fell on deaf ears. She took 10 minutes pinching and examining both arms. Then she stuck one arm, complained about what a slow draw it was, pulled the needle out, and waved the half filled vial in my face, saying in an accusatory manner, saying "Well! This just won't be enough!" Meanwhile, I'm trying feverishly to stop my legs from shaking so that the entire bed will stop rattling. Three needle sticks later, she finally gets what she needs out of me. My husband, who has been hiding on the other side of the curtain for fearing of passing out at the sight of my blood, finally pokes his head in nervously to see if the ordeal is over. Some help he is. He too has a intense fear of getting blood taken. What a pair. If I felt weak from not eating for days walking in there, I felt much worse walking out! On the positive side, this virus has done wonders for my figure.

Hoping things look up tomorrow!

Do as I Do

A church in our town had the following message on its outdoor display board:

"Be gracious. You might be the only sermon someone reads."

I usually don't pay too much attention to these posted messages, but this one resonated for some reason. Every day I remind myself that for some kids, coming to school is the best part of their day. It's predictable, safe, orderly, inviting, and most importantly, there are adults there who truly care about them and their well being. For them, no matter what else happens at home, what they witness, what they live with or live without, school is a place where they are taught good character traits and encouraged to incorporate these into their self-reflections and interactions with others. It's easy to forget that kids are always watching us--if we don't model self-respect, honesty, and compassion for them, who will? One thing I promise to always do is to admit my mistakes to children. The only way I know to be gracious is to embrace my humanity and fallibility.

There's even a little rug for the bathroom!

I had a ten year old student tell me yesterday, "No offense, but I want to see a professional counselor." Ha! Well excuse me and the entirely free and convenient services that I provide during the school day. Fine, bye.

These kids crack me up. I've now had my pretty new yellow chairs loudly farted upon, my checkered carpet peed on, and all the contents of my little fish tank dumped all over the counter and floor (thank goodness my little fishies are battery operated--they would've been goners). My room has officially been broken in (well, christened if you will) by many cute, germy, and somewhat nosy little children. I also have them to thank for my current illness.

Many kids come in and stare, and I mean stare at my dollhouse. Wide eyed, they ask, "What is that?" Um, it's a little house for dolls, not hard to figure out. I think they ask as a way of drawing my attention to their attention to it--letting me know that they would really, really, really like to be invited to play with it. I admit that some kids have even caught me playing with it when I'm alone in my office. I much enjoyed watching my husband assemble it a few weeks ago. Once it was completed and we were unpacking the furniture, he toggled between looking painfully bored and put out by having to help with such a project and excitedly picking up items and proclaiming, "Look at this! The lid to the grill opens! And look! Here's a little ladder for the bunk beds! Wow!" The novelty of it to a grown man who did not grow up with any sisters greatly amused me.

Fit

I Love, Love, Love my new job. It is such a great fit for me.

This has been hopefully one of the hardest weeks emotionally that I will have to face this year (I have trouble imagining it getting worse), but despite this, I know when I lie down at night that I have tried my hardest to help the children in my school feel safe.

The giggles and hugs are priceless, and these help me get through the day with smile still planted on my face. I'm where I'm supposed to be.

I'm super appreciative of all the staff who have gone out of their way to welcome me and make me feel more at home. And it is indeed starting to feel a bit like home. Yay!

Care Bears and Booger Books

Apparently my husband was none too pleased with the meticulous grocery list I left for him tonight:


milk
lunch stuff
fruit
dinner stuff


What? It encompasses everything we need. He feels strongly, however, that he is unable to enter a supermarket in earnest unless I have crafted him a detailed list of desired merchandise. Tonight my list wasn't cutting it.


I must remove my head from my butt and focus on something other than work. Like eating, and housework, and heaven forbid, fun activity. I seem to expel all my energy at school, getting to school, staying after school, and then thinking about school when I get home. Healthy, I know. It's that whole building the plane while you're already flying it thing....I'm trying to set up my office, figure out what I'm doing, plan my program, and meet the needs of all the kids. And I'm overwhelmed.


BUT...the kids are so darn adorable and loving that it truly puts a big ole goofy grin on my face every day :)


P.S. Thanks loyal reader, for sticking with me despite the hiatus and uber boring posts.