I Liek Yu

Remember when I told you that last week was the first week of school? I lied.

A more appropriate phrase would be "calm before the storm" (or: "What the hell was I thinking?"). I spent last week with my twelve returning kindergartners (Montessori classrooms are multi-age) reading, playing outside, and reconnecting after a summer apart. 

Then the four year olds showed up. 

Since we had staggered entry for our pre-K's, every day this week was like living the same bad dream over and over. A bad dream in which I scream "DON'T TOUCH THAT" until my throat is sore and get boogers wiped on me. 

The icing on the cake was when a kid pooped in his pants yesterday. While he was holding my hand. Did I mention we were on the opposite side of the school from our classroom (i.e. his change of clothes)? Minor detail. 

Then another teacher offered me gems of wisdom by asking "Did he have a number two accident? I can smell it all the way down the hall."

You mean that rancid, horrible odor that just made me gag and run for the trash can? What on earth are you talking about?

Thanks for the help!

So, that's disgusting. And every time a kid breaks something he wasn't supposed to touch in the first place, starts crying because she misses her mom, or loses control of their bodily functions ever at inopportune moments all I can think to myself is middle school would seem like a breeze at this point. Bring on the hormones! The attitude! The apathy! Just please keep your poop (or anyone else's) in the bathroom. And for the love of God, please stop crying. And touching me. 

There are other moments too. Like when a new little bitty whispers to me that she's nervous about the first day of school as she slips her plump little hand into mine. Singing Justin Bieber on the playground. Going on nature walks in which every leaf found is THE most beautiful leaf in the world. Getting notes that say "Mis Enslee, yu ar fun. I liek yu."

From now on, I'll take a deep, cleansing breath and think happy thoughts when I get frustrated. Or when (at 10:17 am) a pre-K taps me on the shoulder and announces: "I would like to have lunch now."

In which case I'll tap him back and say "Guess what dude? This is S-C-H-O-O-L and (unlike your mom) I'm not here to cater to your every whim. Get back to your work."

And (once again) please don't touch me.