Reasons to Like Four Year Olds (8)

I had an awesome day! I wanted to share why:

1. I brought envelopes and made a mail box for Santa. My kids were all over it, "writing" letters to Santa and drawing him pictures.  It was funny watching them figure out how to make a piece of paper fit into an envelope.

2. I have a bunch of old lids for the kids to sort.  But instead of sorting, one kid pretended he was Santa and he needed medicine.  (He noticed that some of the lids from prescription bottles were for medicine.) Later in the afternoon, the lids became coffee because I store them in a coffee container.  When it was hot I pretended to spill it on myself and cried.  So he made me warm coffee and cold coffee to make me happy instead of sad. And whenever I "cried" the other children would come over and give me a hug.

3.  We drew with sidewalk chalk outside today.  One of the kids kept asking for me to draw him some hearts.  He was very possessive of the hearts and wouldn't let anyone step on them.  He danced around them singing "Heartsy, heartsy, heartsy..."  Then he bent down and gave the hearts "loves" by rubbing his face on them.  He ended up with chalk on his face without noticing. It was quite adorable.

4.  A potential parent for the SAC program came in and thought I was a child.  She, my boss, and I had a good laugh about it.

Reasons to Like Four Year Olds (7)

While a couple of my boys were playing in the kitchen center, I asked, "Can I have some food?"  He answered, "This is not for you, madam."

I Cried

I cried for you today.
You broke my heart in pieces.
I used to trust you as a friend.
I used to trust you as a sister.
Now I can't.

I cried for you today.
I still love you.
But do you love me?
Everything you told me now
Seems to have been a lie.

I cried for you today.
You were there when
no one else would dare.
But now we just exist
in two separate worlds.

I cried for you today.

Reasons to Like Four Year Olds (6)

On Thursday, tape recorded a book I read to the kids.  I played the tape back to entertain them while I was cleaning up after lunch. This is the dialogue that happened as a result:
Child 1: Ms. Brenda are you talking?
Me: Yes, I'm talking. The tape recorded me talking.
Child 1: See! I was right, she is talking.
Child 2: No, she's not talking right now.
Child 1: Yes she is!
When the recording stopped I heard this:
Child 3: She's not talking in there anymore.  She's dead!
Child 2: (with a very serious face) She's not dead! She's right there.
Child 3: No, she's dead in there. She's dead in the radio.
Child 2: No, she's not.  She's not dead.

Reasons to Like Four Year Old (5)

I was walking down the hall with my stuff to go home.  One of my kids and his dad was walking behind me. I overheard this.

Child: That's Ms. Brenda.  She's going home.
Dad: Yeah?
Child: She's my teacher.
Dad: I know that.

I love my job.

Reasons to Like Four Year Olds (4)

While trying to read a story to help teach them the word hypothesis:

Child 1: I can't see the story!
Child 2: Move so I can see!
Child 3: It's because she's small!
Child 2: No it's because she's short!
Child 1: Not it's because she's skinny! Hey! Why are you so skinny?!

All of this was pretty much yelled.  They have no mental filter.

Reasons to Like 4 year olds (3)

Child: When are we going to use the parachute?
Me: I'm not sure.  Maybe next week.
Child: How about Monday?
Me: Monday might be good.
Child: I'm going to write a lesson plan to make sure we do the parachute on Monday.  Don't let me forget to write my lesson plan when we come inside so we can do the parachute on Monday.

I know I'm doing my job right when my kids know that I follow my lesson plans.

Reasons to Like Four Year Olds (2)

Giving them bread and jelly as our "cooking" project.  Their options were apple jelly or strawberry jelly:

"MMMM!!! This is SO good! Can we have more?!"

Child: "Can I have two?"
Me: What do you mean?
Child: Can I have both of them?
Me: Oh you mean mix them?
She thought it was the best thing ever.

After giving him one to take home: "Mine fell on the floor! I let my mommy take a bite.  She thinks it's really good."

One child dropped it on the floor (jelly side on the floor) and ate it anyway.  Even when I told him not to.

"What is the rest of the bread for? Don't take it home.  We want more jelly."

Runaway: Part 1

In the dead of night feet pounding against the pavement, Andy could only hear the sound of his own heavy breathing.  He may have run for two or three miles now. He could not stop though he could no longer feel his legs. Only sixteen years old, he had to run away from all he knew.  Escape was his only option.  He couldn't turn back now.  He had witnessed a crime committed by his own father. The worst part was that he helped.  He was guilty. He could not face the rumors in the small town that would inevitably occur. He could not face going through a trial.  Wasn't what he witnessed and what he did bad enough.  Running. Heart pounding.  No stopping.  The worst was that he knew his father would not run after him.  He knew. Now all he had was the clothes on his back and the twenty in his pocket that he took off of his father's night stand.  Not knowing what would come next, he kept running.  There was nothing left.

He did not stop until he reached another small town twelve miles away.  He just hoped nobody recognized him.  He dropped in the local diner and got some toast and water, which ate away two dollars of his twenty.  Then he continued, this time walking.

It was another twelve miles to the city.  The city was good.  He could hide. Chances were, nobody knew his name.  He picked up a paper out of a local vending machine.  Now he was down to $17.50.  Suddenly, he remembered how hungry he was.  His stomach grumbled.  He spotted a coffee shop close by and bought a small sandwich. $14 left. While eating as slowly as possible, Andy browsed the classifieds.  Maybe he could get a job under a false name.  But he didn't have any social security number.  He couldn't make one up.  Those could be tracked.  Easily. Then he saw it.  The obituaries.  A boy, 16, died in a car crash.  He had the name.  He could easily get the address.  Just show up at the funeral and maybe, just maybe, he could get some kind of ID and access to the social security card.

Zachary Thomas.  He had to get used to calling himself that before he could find a job.  From now on, he would be Zachary Thomas.    

Reasons to Like Four Year Olds (1)

Me: It's time to clean up the water table.
Boy: Why?
Me: Because it's almost time for me to go home.
Boy: But I don't want you to go home.
Me: But I have to go home.
Boy: But I like you.

Appearances

Stomach grumbling, Ella found a beautiful blue shirt and her nicest black pants to wear to church.  She carefully pulled on her clothes, noticing that they were starting to hang on her body.  Frustrated, she found the only belt she had in her closet and put it through the loops on her pants.  She had just bought new pants one month ago.  There was no way she could afford to buy another pair.  Plus, last time she went to the Goodwill store, some of the people gave her funny looks.  She supposed that she may have been dressed a little too nicely, having just come from work.  Refocusing her thoughts, she walked to the mirror to fix her hair.  She carefully ran the brush through her hair to pull out all the tangles. Her face was beginning to get thin again, the circles under her eyes getting darker. After fixing her hair, she put on make up to cover up the dark circles and to add color.  Picking up her keys and her Bible, she walked out to her car and drove to church. She couldn't wait for the sweet cake or pastry that her Sunday School teacher always brought.

After Sunday School, Ella's best friend in the class exclaimed, "I love your blue shirt, Ella.  Have you lost weight? You're looking pretty good."
Cringing, hoping nobody noticed, Ella smiled, "Thank you! This is my favorite shirt.  And, yes, I have lost weight."
Interrupting their conversation, Bill asked, "Are you two going to join us for lunch? We're going to go to the Mexican place down the street."
"No, thank you," Ella replied.  Trying to find an excuse not to go, she said, "I have some things to take care of at home before I go back to work tomorrow."  She picked up her keys and her Bible, she walked out the door, as soon as she was sure she wouldn't be missed.

Finally home, after what seemed like forever, Ella immediately took a look at her kitchen cabinet.  She saw a few cans of soup and vegetables.  She didn't really want any of that right now, but she was so hungry.  She could hear and feel her stomach rumbling.  That small piece of apple turnover she had in Sunday School was quickly beginning to wear off. She grabbed a can of chicken soup, poured it in the bowl and popped it in the microwave.  She couldn't wait to go to work tomorrow, so she could finally eat more than one meal.

Daycare

I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by my job and what I'm going to have to do to follow the policies for the company I work for.  I've been in training for the past few days and it felt like all I was hearing was, "You must do.." or, "You must never do...".   I want to let every person know this: even though I will be working for a daycare company, I AM a teacher.  It may not be recognized by other companies or apartments, as far as being able to get a discount.  To say that someone who works in a daycare setting is not a teacher is absolutely wrong.  From infants to pre-K to after school programs, the staff that work at daycare centers influences every child's way of thinking about learning, about their peers, and about themselves.  So I guess this is my tribute to daycare teachers everywhere.  We don't get the same respect and influence that public school teachers have, and they don't get all that much either. We teach at the daycare centers because we love our kids.  We love working with the younger children and seeing them grow in many ways that teachers in public schools will never get to see.  We see the very beginnings of language development, math development, and social development.  No amount of money will be able to make up for that.  That's why we, or at least I, will take a job that pays very little monetarily but that pays a lot in the joy of children.  Over the summer, I worked with a group of four year olds.  While I was playing football with a few of the boys, they began to talk about what they wanted to be when they grow up:
Boy 1: When I grow up, I'm going to be a football player, and a basketball player, and a soccer player.
Boy 2: When I grow up, I'm going to be an astronaut.
Me: When I grow up, I want to be a teacher.
Boy 2: (smiles) No! You're already a teacher.
That's when I realized that even though I don't work for a public school, I AM a teacher.  The children see me as a teacher and that's what counts.  I don't work there for me or my bosses, but for the kids. The words I say, the environment I set up, and the lessons I plan will impact these children for the beginning of their public school careers, if not their lifetime.

Sadness

Eyes burning
Nose running
Holding back the tears

Mind racing
Salt water forming
A creek begins to flow
Down the bridge of the nose

Eyes burning
Nose running
Still trying to
Hold back the tears

Brain running
Without sleeping
A pool forms
On the pillow
From the tears

Eyes burning
Nose running
No longer
Holding back the tears

Morning comes
Thoughts flowing
People coming
Make-up covering
The red and swelling face

Eyes burning
Face hurting
Hiding all the tears

Feel Free to Leave

"You can learn the language and accept our beliefs or get out."  At least that's the summary of an email sent to my mom while we were on vacation in Texas, in regard to the Australian Prime Minister.  Not sure how to interpret the email, whether it was serious or a hoax, meant to be accepted by my family or appalled.  (I have recently read a few articles online that say it is a hoax.) I decided to express my disgust at what was said in this email. My family was taken aback and actually agreed with what she said.  I was immediately shot down and didn't feel like I could argue with my elders, especially my grandpa.   I now want to voice why this shocks me:

1) In this email, they describe Australia as a Christian nation.  They say that it was founded by Christians.  That may be so, but it started out as a prison colony for the British.

2) If Australia is a Christian nation, they would not target hate toward a single people group, that is, the Muslims.  Please don't interpret this the wrong way.  I do not think that Islam is the path to God.  However, I do know that as Christians, we are to love the Muslims and accept who they are as people.  We should not tell them to leave, just because they don't accept our beliefs.  It will only turn them away from Christianity, not bring them to it.

3) As people in the United States, in general, we expect the people around the world to know English.  Even when we go to other countries, we expect the people to speak English and understand us.  We do not want to learn the language of other people when we go abroad.  Is it not hypocritical, then to expect other people to know our language when they come here?

My difference in my opinions from my family may come from my educational background and my exposure to many cultures throughout high school, college, and student teaching.  I know that I was not raised to hate other people and tell them to leave because they don't speak my language or believe exactly the same things I do.  I was honestly shocked that my family agreed to what the email said.  I increasingly become frustrated with many Americans' views toward immigrants, simply because they do not know the language or have the same culture.  People are people, no matter what language they speak or which culture they came from.

Gone

She sat in silence on her lonely bed, looking over and over again at the text messages on her phone.  So many say, "I'm sorry," or, "Let me know if you need anything." A single tear rolled down her face as she scrolled down to the one she wanted to read. "I love you," said the message cheerfully, "I can't wait to be home with you again."   Her eyes became swollen and red as she tried to hold back the tears.  She closed her eyes, trying to get the voice out of her head, "I'm so sorry ma'am." A sudden stream poured out of her eyes. Unwilling and unable to move, she used her bed sheet to wipe her eyes and nose. She doubled over, her head touching her knees.  A knock on the door brought her back to reality. She quickly wiped off her face, hoping her sadness wouldn't show. "Come in, baby," she called to her son.  "Mommy, when is Daddy going to be home from his trip? I miss him a lot." She tried to hold back the hot tears as she squeezed his shoulders between her arms. "I miss him, too, baby.  I miss him too."

Red Velvet Cupcakes

Finding supportive parents when working in a daycare setting or school setting is, unfortunately rare.  This summer, I have been fortunate to encounter several parents over the course of the summer who will gladly chat about their child's day, be it good or bad.  I have particularly been touched by a mother who constantly checks to see if I had a good day with her child.  Her child has particular behavioral issues and needs.  This parent, unlike many others, recognizes the efforts that teachers assert in order to meet her child's particular needs.   Today, on the child's last day at the daycare center, she wanted to make red velvet cupcakes for all of the teachers at the center.  Just as a token of her appreciation. (She ended up bringing store bough cupcakes, which were very delicious.) To quote her, "I go to culinary school.  I only have my husband and daughter at home.  The only way I can really practice is by making things for good people."  I am humbled and amazed at this statement.  I had not thought that I had touched the life of this parent in the way that I had.

Why does this kind of appreciation come so unexpectedly? It seems everybody, including myself at times, is so caught up in themselves and their busy lives that they don't think about how others have impacted their lives.  I truly believe that God puts each and every person in our lives for a purpose.  This is especially true for our family, teachers, doctors, and friends.  As a teacher, I hope that God will use me to impact the life of each and every child that comes into my class, as well as the parents of those children.  And I hope to take the time to reflect on how each one of them positively impacts my life and thank them for it.

Moments in Time

Deep brown eyes

Mingle with bright blue.

Strong hands

Wrap around petite fingers.

Broad shoulders

Bend with an embrace.

Gentle fingers

Brush hair off of a shy face.

Deep brown eyes

Gaze at a talking people.

Strong hands

Complete their daily work.

Broad shoulders

Heave with each breath.

Gentle fingers

Contemplate a dinner fork.

Deep brown eyes shine

with bright blue once again.

Strong hands find 

their place among small fingers.

Broad shoulders bend 

in sweet embrace.

Gentle fingers caress

an eager face.

My Very First Post

I'm so excited about having a creative space to write and share with others.  I hope to post poems, really short stories or scenes that pop into my head, or thoughts about what is happening in the world around me.  I currently have a poem rolling around in my head and hope to get it written soon. Much love!