Finding the Joy

Leaving the very small, loving community that was my last preschool was tough. And as I become more involved with the public schools, I realize how truly special it was.

Why do I teach preschool? It is not a well paying job. I have to spend my own money on occasion to perform my job. There is an enormous amount of work involved, and my job doesn't end when the school day ends. I get kicked, spit on, bitten, pinched and scratched; I have to change clothes covered in pee, vomit and worse. I come home from work sometimes so tired that I can barely be a loving parent.

Yeah, my job sucks. I need to quit.

But I LOVE my job. The absolute joy I feel when I connect with a young child is hard to describe. The giddy excitement I feel when a child makes a discovery makes every time I get a mouthful of an uncovered sneeze worth it. I am helping these little tiny people learn to navigate their world; teaching them how to be wonderful human beings and enthusiastic learners.

Working in this new environment has exposed me to people who don't find the same innate joy in their profession as I do. Which leads me to this question I constantly ask...

If you don't love teaching, then why do you do it? It is not a lucrative position....

I overheard a conversation between a couple of colleagues a few months ago. They were discussing a student who was challenging in the classroom. "I just hate him" one preschool teacher said to the other.

This conversation made my heart hurt. How in the world is it possible to hate a preschooler? Yes, they can make you crazy. Yes, certain behaviors can drive you nuts. And certainly the 1000th time you say "use your words" to the habitual biter makes you want to head straight to the nearest bar. But hate? In my world, never.

The behavior of a preschool aged child is learned. The behaviors they bring into the classroom are what they have used in their home to get the attention they crave. Good attention, bad attention, at age 3, 4, 5 (and older...) is all the same to a young child. To work under the assumption that a young child is just being a pill just to bug you, or to make your life difficult, or to ruin your well thought out lesson plan is ridiculous. They are three, and they are behaving the only way they know how. It is up to me, their preschool teacher, to figure out where the behavior is coming from, and then teach them how to behave appropriately.

But, there is that word, "appropriate". What is appropriate? I really shouldn't toss that term about, because it really should be directed at the adults in the preschool classroom.

A teacher of young children needs to adjust their expectations to abilities of the current group of children they are teaching. The group dynamic is different every year, and what works like a dream one year may be a miserable failure the next. Embrace the challenge.

So...that child that makes you crazy. That you may even "hate" (ugh, it hurts even to type that word); figure out why. Many times, the expectations that have been set out for him are unattainable, and he expresses his frustration the only way he knows how.

Maybe he lives in a busy household, and the only time his grown-ups acknowledge him is when he acts out. Acknowledge him for his good choices and ignore the wrong ones. Praise him for even the smallest victories (good job not hitting your friend in the last 2 minutes, woo-hoo!!)

Maybe there is turmoil in his home life, and the only way he can deal is acting out at school. Make school a respite for him. Create a safe and loving environment where he feels comfortable and happy. Let him know the minute he walks into the classroom he is cherished and loved, and his day will be one of discovery and fun. Sometimes, this child just needs to be held. Hold him.

Maybe he is bored. Figure out what interests this child. Challenge him. Boredom is huge. If your students are running around like crazy people and refuse to make good choices, the problem is your classroom, not the kiddos. Change it up.

Maybe there is something misfiring in the way his brain processes sensory input and information. Early intervention is key to helping children with these types of challenges. Although, I hesitate to throw out this as a reason for challenging behavior. It is important to understand that the inability to sit still for long periods of time is not necessarily a sign of ADHD or autism. It is usually a sign of being three.

Every year I have a child who comes to me with challenging behavior. My secret to effectively teaching and engaging with this child is to find the joy in that child.

Every child has joy in them. It may be the way the crinkle their eyes when they smile. Or the way they understand my dry sense of humor. Or how they approach every activity with their entire body. Or how their face lights up when they make a discovery. Or simply the way they grab my hand when walking to the playground.

I find the joy, concentrate on it, and soon I am able to find the joy in every part of that child, even the parts that drive me nuts. The child knows that I care for them, no matter what, and a relationship built on mutual trust is born. Even when a bad choice is made, they know (because I tell them and show them) that I will always care for them. We work together to learn from mistakes, and how to make good choices.

And truth be told, as much as I try to teach them, those kiddos with the challenging behavior teach me so much more. And my most challenging students are the ones who find the biggest place in my heart.

Early childhood educators who see a child with behavior issues as a problem instead of a wonderful opportunity of mutual growth are missing out on one of the very best things about teaching young children.

Love my job.

A New Adventure

Once I completed my Master's degree program in Early Childhood education, I tucked my new degree into my belt, and since I needed to pay for this piece of paper, I decided to leave the magical, special preschool where I had taught for the the last 10 years, and find a teaching position that offered more money, benefits, and the opportunity for advancement.

I was fortunate to be offered a position in the local school district. Teaching two year olds. After I enthusiastically accepted the position, I hung up the phone, and repeated, "Teaching two year olds? What does one teach a two year old?"

I was at a loss. All of my expertise was working with three year olds. I was good with three year olds. How in the world was I going to create a warm and engaging classroom for two year olds? Plus, I would be changing diapers. That whole celebration I had when my youngest was FINALLY out of diapers was apparently in vain. Panic started to set in. The bit of information that caused full blown panic? "Your class has 25 students."

25 two-year-olds? In diapers? Holy cow, how on earth was I going to manage this?

I walk in on the first day to a bunch of very small children running around. A LOT of very small children running around. A lot of small children running around...wearing diapers. The changing table is in the front of the room, gleaming and mocking me.

I am trying to wrap my head around how I am going to change 25 diapers. How can I possible keep 25 bottoms fresh and clean and teach them things? Can I teach children this young things?

My first day was...let's say...not perfect. I felt like all I did was change diapers, catch toys that were being tossed around the room, and during nap time I spent 1 hour and 38 minutes trying to calm a screaming child. Who tried to bite me. Twice.

So glad I got that degree.

By the end of the first week, I had established my countdown to the end of the year, and ran myself ragged trying to just make sure I had as many kids at the end of the day that I started out with.

That first weekend I analyzed why I was running so ragged. What is the key to a calm and easy to manage classroom? The students need to be engaged. They need to know what is expected of them. They need to have structure.

And thus began my adventure in the world of the two-year-olds.

Meteorology in Preschool

This week we studied the sun. I always start out the week by asking a question pertaining to whatever we are studying. This week my question was, "What does the sun do?". Here are the the responses I got...

It gets into your eyes.

It burns your eyeballs so you have to wear sunglasses.

It follows you.

It makes our mouths hot.

Makes you stay inside.

It stays in the sky.

If you stay in the sun too long it could make you die.

It gets you sweaty.

It makes our eyes hot.

It stays yellow.

It makes the house shady.

It can dry us up.

It goes up and down.


During this week, we had a very rare cloudy day, so on a whim, I asked the kids, "What is a cloud?". And here are those responses...

They are made of fish.

They are white.

They are in the sky and fluffy.

I think if I could touch one, it would be hard.

If you look real hard, they sometimes can have a face.

They go under planes.

They are sometimes like stripes.

They are made of water, and when they get full they turn gray and then rain comes out. (This child obviously has studied the water cycle prior to coming to my class...).

They move in the sky.


It was a fun week. :0)




.

Chasing Kittens

School has started, and it is just as fun as ever. I love getting to know a new bunch of kids, and then tracking how much they grow over the next ten months.

This year's class has a lot of kids I have known since they were in utero. I find it miraculous that a mere three years ago my students were tiny babies that I held in my arms and cooed over, and now I am expecting them to pour their own juice and go potty in the toilet. Me? I haven't changed at all in the past three years, other than maybe a few more wrinkles.

The first few weeks of school are always chaotic. It always takes me a few weeks to get the paperwork figured out (correct spellings of names, student files complete, the parent helper calendar filled out, etc.) and to get back into the daily routine. And if it is challenging for me, imagine what it must be like for these three-year-olds. While I struggle with student files, they are struggling with being left in a new place, with a new grown-up. And this grown-up has the audacity to tell them what to do.

Which explains why when this new grown-up does make a suggestion, that it is more often than not ignored. I mean, why should they listen? They don't know me, and are fairly confident if they ignore me nothing bad will happen. And they are right.

Trying to get the kids to make the transition from outside time back to inside time is always the most challenging part of my day. By definition, recess is awesome, but we always try to make it super awesome - especially in the first few weeks of school. The kids get to feed Patton, our school's tortoise (Patton has the ability to make separation anxiety just disappear), spin endlessly on our tire swing, shoot some hoops, and, a current favorite, make rivers, canals, waterfalls and dams in our sandpit which we put the hose in. In Arizona it is a bazillion degrees outside now, so even if we get wet playing in the sand and water, we are dry before we walk the length of the playground.

So, with all this stuff to do, when I sing my special line up song, I am not at all surprised that not one kid lines up. So, I will gather a couple kids up, tell them how it is time to go in and have our awesome snack, and lead them over to the wall where we line up. And then go to gather a few more kids with the same speech. And as I lead the new set of kids over to the wall, I realize the original group I had placed there have gone back out to the playground. So, back I go to retrieve the kids that left. And when I get back, the other kids are gone.

We call this "Chasing Kittens". Those of us who teach three-year-olds always refer to the first six weeks of school as the Chasing Kittens phase. We actually "chase kittens" all day long, but it actually reaches the really, really funny level on the playground. The four-year-old and kindergarten teachers laugh hysterically as we chase these babies around, trying to convince them that actually going inside to a cool room with lots of cold water is preferable to being outside in the sweltering heat.

What's weird is even though I know I will be chasing kittens on the playground, I never allow enough time for it. I keep having to shorten music time to accommodate for the kitten factor.

It is now the second week of school, and the kids are starting to get it. I am starting to chase the kittens a little less, and in a few weeks the kids will start using peer pressure to get the last kittens to join the group. And while I love it when the kids start to know the routine, and do what is expected, I always feel a pang of sadness when I realize I won't have to chase kittens for another year. These babies are on their way to their scholastic careers, and will never be "kittens" again.



.

Real Life Pretend Play

Ok, couldn't think of a good title for this blog...

So, our summer program has been progressing wonderfully this year. The kids and grown-ups have all been having a great time.

Last week, one of the classrooms was set up to be a grocery store. The kids were given a grocery list of items they needed to collect to prepare their snack. For example, one day the snack was Banana Dogs. On their list was a banana, a hot dog bun, and peanut butter. The classroom was set up into different areas, so they had to go to the "bakery" to get the hot dog bun, the "produce section" to get the banana, and the "canned good aisle" to get the peanut butter. Each child had a shopping basket, and when they found the item, they checked it off their list, and put it into their basket.

Because it was a pretend grocery store, of course we had to have a pretend check out area as well, complete with cash register, a scanner and pretend money. We thought the kids would have a great time playing store.

And they did. But what happened is that they got it in their mind they needed to pay for their snack. They would stand in line at the one cash register, baskets in hand, and wait patiently to pay for their snacks with wads of crumpled pretend money. The lines would sometimes get as long as ten kids, all standing with the baskets on their hips, tapping their toes, and looking extremely bored. Just like everyone of us has done probably at least once a week since reaching adulthood. We did suggest to the kids that they could just go ahead and sit down, and not "pay"; "But that would be stealing!" we were told. Ok.

What if no one was manning the pretend register? The customer would stand there, looking irritated, and shout, "I need help here!" until another child would run over to check out the waiting customer.

We got the biggest kick out of this very unexpected twist to our grocery store. Did they want to pay because they had been standing in lines at grocery stores with their parents since infancy? Are we genetically programmed to stand in line after checking items off a shopping list? Who knows. But it sure was fun. And funny.

.

Watching Them Grow

It is no secret that I truly love my job. I can talk non-stop about preschool, and the kids, and what they're learning, and how they're growing, for hours. And one of the best parts is watching these kids grow. Not physically, although that is always amazing, but socially and emotionally. We teachers work very hard to provide our students the tools they need to navigate in the world. We strive to teach them empathy, conflict resolution and self-reliance. And the absolute joy I feel when I see my students put to use what we've worked so hard to teach is...well...it is AWESOME. I have been known to cry.

Our little preschool offers a fabulous summer program every summer. Every summer, several students new to the program join us for the summer to get them ready for preschool in the fall. Last summer, one of our new students was Mark. Mark was painfully shy and had never been to preschool before. Preschool, I think, can be a pretty intimidating place to a child, even if you do your best to make it as friendly and inviting as possible.

Mark really had no idea how to interact with his peers. He wasn't sure how to initiate play, he didn't know how to join in play, wasn't sure how to go about asking for a turn, and was completely helpless if another child took a toy away from. He was so overwhelmed with everything, that he spent a lot of time under tables, crying.

So we started to work with him, and give him the tools he needed. And little by little, Mark came out of his shell, and gained his confidence. We cheered the first time he asked a group of kids, "Can I play with you?". We were beside ourselves when he approached a friend for the first time and said, "Do you want to play with me?". And when he finally had the confidence to tell a child, "Please don't do that, I don't like that, you can have a turn when I'm done!", we all congratulated ourselves on a job well done. The jumping up and down and cheering came when he tentatively started to make mischief. We knew then he had finally come into his own.

(For the record, Mark was not my student, his teacher, Mrs. M., deserves the credit for helping with his social and emotional development).

Well, here it is summer again, and Mark has joined us for our summer program again. He is a leader in the group, showing the younger ones the ropes and being a good and kind friend. Of course, we have several new students, and Mark is so patient with the kids who just don't know how things are at school.

I witnessed this exchange last week....

A little boy who is new to the program, Todd, went up to Mark and tried to take the hammer out of Mark's hand. Mark, very patiently says, "I am using the hammer now, you can have a turn when I am done."

Todd makes another grab for the hammer. Mark: "I am using this, wait for your turn."

Todd wedges his way between Mark and the nail that Mark was hammering. Mark: "I don't like that, you are in the way and you could get hurt. Please get out of my way."

Todd, still firmly in the way starts grabbing at the hammer and shoving Mark. Mark's patience has run out, and he is clearly frustrated and starts yelling, "I don't like that! Wait for your turn! You can have a turn when I'm done!" It was like he opened up his tool box of ways to deal with conflict and used up every tool he had. He looks up at me, throws his hands in the air and shrugs his shoulders and gives the non-verbal "I got nothing left, here, Mrs.V."

I walk over to physically remove Todd from the situation, and start him down the road of how to resolve conflicts in preschool ("Mark is using that hammer. I bet if you asked him if you could use it when he was done, he would say yes"). As I walk away, Mark says, "That boy really needs to go to preschool."

And, we have come full circle. How awesome is that?




.

Preschool to a Three Year Old

Imagine coming to preschool for the first time. You arrive at a brand new place, filled with a lot of kids you don't know, and a lot of grown-ups you don't know. The grown-ups seem nice, but why do they come on so strong? Why do I have to give this lady a high five? I have no idea who she is. She's my teacher? And a teacher is what exactly? And, wait a minute, MOM IS LEAVING ME HERE??????? With all these people I don't know????? What if I need to go potty? What if I don't know where I am supposed to go? .......sniff....

OK, these toys are pretty fun. I LOVE this truck. This is the coolest truck I've ever seen! I am going to make it go down this hill and pick up some....hey! Wait! I was playing with that. That is MY truck. Well, I am going to grab it out of your hand and then hit you with it. That will show you to take my truck. The teacher just told me to "use my words". I thought that is what I did.

Circle time? What is that?? Nope, I will stay here and play with this awesome truck. Why does the teacher keep telling me I have to come sit with her for Circle Time when I don't even know what that is?

Ohhhh, Circle Time means the teacher is reading us a story. I love stories. Why didn't the teacher say "read a story" instead of "Circle Time"? I wouldn't have thrown my truck across the room if I had known we were reading stories.

Oh no, I have to go potty. Really bad. I don't remember where the potty is, and I don't know how to unbutton my new shorts....sniff..

Wow, my teacher knew I needed to go potty, and she helped me unbutton my shorts. And then she stood outside the door in case I needed help. She seems pretty nice, I wonder what her name is?

Hey! That is MY truck. You can't have it. I am going to take it from you, because I want to play with it NOW! My teacher is saying I can't play with it because you are playing with it. So? I want to play with it NOW!!! I was playing with it and it is the only thing I want to play with and I don't want to wait until it is my turn and what is a "turn" anyway and I want that truck and I am going to hit you because that is my truck and.....sniff....

Teacher just said I could play with play dough while I waited for Jack to finish playing with the truck. I LOVE play dough. And teacher just gave me a different truck, and look! I can push my truck through the play dough and the wheels make tracks! This is so fun, now I am going to cover the whole truck in play dough and...

is that paint? There is paint here? I love painting. I want to paint! I want to paint right now! That girl is painting, I want to paint too. I wonder if I could just paint with her?

That girl started to cry when I painted with her, I thought my painting looked good and then she started to cry and teacher said "Let's find you a place to paint" but that girl is still crying and I just wanted to paint and I don't think I want to paint by myself.....sniff...

Teacher made me a place to paint right next to Ann. Ann isn't crying anymore and she said she likes pink. Ann said my painting was good. Ann is pretty. I am having so much fun painting next to Ann and we are both three years old and what? We get to go outside now? I LOVE playing outside!

This sandbox is the best sandbox ever. Teacher put the hose in the sandbox and showed me and Jack how to make rivers. She got really dirty. I am really dirty but Teacher said that is what laundry is for. She gave us little boats to float down our river and I think Jack is the best kid ever. We are going to make our river longer and race our boats and...

Why are we going in? I want to play in the sand! Why can't I stay outside? Why does Teacher keep changing things? What does "line up" mean? I don't want to stand next to that boy. I want to stand next to Jack. Now Teacher is telling me to sing. I don't know this song. I want to play in the sand. I am going back to play in the sand. Teacher just told me it was time to line up, but it really is time to play in the sand. I don't like this song and I don't want to sing, and I don't know what "line up" is and I don't want to go back in and what is snack time and.....sniff....

Wait-snack time means we get to eat! I am so hungry! I love carrots. What? I can only have three? What does "pass" mean? I am really hungry, if I give the bowl to the person next to me I might not get more. I will give him one. Why do I have to pass the whole bowl? I know how to give out a carrot. OK, here's the bowl. "Teacher!! Jack took a lot of carrots, you said take three!" I am going to take those carrots off Jack's plate because he took too many and, oowwww, why did Jack just hit me? He took too many carrots, and owwwww.......sniff...

Teacher is holding my hand and asking me if I am OK. I guess I am OK. She tells Jack that hitting hurts, and that we don't hit friends at school. Jack asked me if I am OK and I say yes and we give high fives. Jack is my best friend.

MOM IS HERE!!! She asks me if I had a good day at school. Ohhhh, this is school! I LOVE school. When do I get to come back? I love my teacher, mom, she made rivers! Who is Mrs. Velarde, and how would I know if she was nice?






.

Lunch Conversation at Preschool

Our little preschool offers an after school program, where children can stay for an extra two hours after the school day is over. They can play on the playground, do crafts, and generally just have fun. They also get to eat lunch, which they bring from home.

I had the privilege of working Stay 'N' Play this year, and got to eat lunch with the students nearly every day. This is always fun. A highlight for the kids is when they ask me to help them open their fruit cup or yogurt. Because, inevitably, without fail, I would spill whatever it was that I was opening down the front of me. By the end of the year, I could seriously rock the "yogurt down the chest with Dole peaches splashed on top" look. My own kids absolutely loved it when I picked them up from their school sporting this look.

One of the best parts of working Stay 'N' Play for me was simply talking with the kids. I love listening to how they interact with each other, the things they say and how no matter how outrageous the lunch conversation might be, no one under the age of 6 ever bats an eyelash. Those older than 6? Well, I for one have blown Diet Pepsi out my nose on more than one occasion.

The following is a lunch conversation that took place during the last week of school....


Lynn: I haven't pooped in a long time.

Kobey: I pooped just now. It stank.

Lynn: My mom says I need to poop everyday. She said my poops are all stuck in my butt.

Lilly: Why would they want to stay in your butt? Mine always want to come out.

Lynn: My mom says I need to eat different food to make the poop come out. I have an apple and a bagel (holds them up for all to see). She said if I eat these the poops will come out.

Me: Well, go ahead and eat them.

Lynn: But I don't want them to come out here!

Me: It will take at least an hour for that food to make the poops come out. Your mom will be here before then.

Lynn looks at me doubtfully as she begins to munch on her apple.

Lilly, to me: Do you know Zack?

Me: Yep (Zack is Lilly's older brother, and one of my former students)

Lilly, to everyone else: Well, Zack, he is my brother, and he is a dude. Dude means he is a boy.

Everyone else: nods in understanding and agreement.

Lynn: I don't have a dude for a brother. I only have a sister. Who's a girl.

Lilly: Well, since Zack is a dude, he has a penis. And I am not allowed to touch his penis because that is his private place. Mom tells me over and over to respect his privacy.

Bob: I have a penis - does that mean I am a dude?

Lilly: Yep. Only dudes get to have a penis.

Bob: You know what I have? (I am expecting the worst here) A new Lego set.

Kobey: Cool!

Lilly: I don't like legos.

Lynn: My dad likes Legos.

Me: I love Legos, but I can't make cool things out of them

Bob, with exasperated eye roll: No, you can't, Mrs. Velarde, Legos are for KIDS.

And so the conversation continued in that vein. I think they eventually jumped to Star Wars. What struck me about this whole exchange is that I was the only one freaking out about the topic selections. Everyone calmly ate their sandwiches and drank their juice boxes while I was was mentally trying to figure out how to delicately change topics without anyone's feelings getting hurt or causing some other emotional damage. But my intervention was not needed, because, to little ones, talking about their body is as natural as talking about their toys.

Gosh, wouldn't it be nice to have that ability as an adult?

Colleague: Wow, you seem a little off today.

Me: My poops are stuck in my butt.

Colleague: Did you eat an apple? That always makes my poops come out.

Me: No, but thanks for the advice!

Yeah, that will never happen.....






.

My Ears Heard You....

At our little preschool we have two raised gardens - one is for planting and one is for digging. The Planting Garden is where classes transplant their bean sprouts, plant seeds, and observe how cool it is to see what you plant actually grow. The Digging Garden, is for, well, digging. We put earth worms in the Digging Garden, as well as lady bugs. This year we have had a ton of pill bugs, and our miniature entomologists have been having a field day. The Digging Garden is also where Patton lives.

Well, we are almost to May, and all the students know the rules of the gardens. You dig in the Digging Garden and you simply observe in the Planting Garden - no digging and NO PULLING UP THE PLANTS. And since about January, everyone has pretty much accepted this rule, and abides by it as well. It has been easier to enforce because everyone is excited about the plants they have planted, and they don't want to pull them out.

Everyone except Lilly. For some reason, Lilly got it in her head this week that she was going to pull out all of the brand new sprouts in our Planting Garden. She was stopped twice by Mrs. D.. who reminded her of the rules. This, however did nothing to deter Lilly from her mission. As soon as Mrs. D. walked away, she resumed her task. I watched her get back to pulling and immediately reminded her (again) of the rules....

"Lilly, you may not pull the plants out of the garden. We planted these so we could watch them grow. You need to leave them alone. This is is the third time we have reminded you to stop pulling out the plants." For some reason, I always tell students how many times I have told them something. Like they are really interested that I keep score. This method doesn't work with my own kids, and the preschool kids really don't care either how many times I say something. They probably think I am just patting myself on the back. (Look how many times I can repeat the same thing. I rock.)

Lilly's response to my reprimand was to simply continue with what she was doing without even skipping a beat. She barely made eye contact.

Taken aback (I usually at least get eye contact), I changed my tone to be more "mom" in nature and I grabbed her hand as it was just about to yank out another innocent seedling. I got right down on her level, and then, I middle named her...

"Lilly Jane Davis, you MAY NOT pull out the plants!! These plants are NOT YOURS. Your friends planted these plants and you MAY NOT PULL THEM OUT!! You need to STOP RIGHT NOW! If you want to pull out plants, let's go pull weeds out of the other garden."

This time, Lilly looked at me, but went for another seedling anyway, with the hand that I was holding.

Exasperated, I just said, "Lilly!"

To which she responded, very matter-of-factly, "Mrs. Velarde, my ears heard you, but my hands haven't heard you yet."

What do you say to that???

Me? I just laughed, and carried her to another area of the playground. And then went and replanted what she had pulled out.

And, there is yet another instance where I have been outsmarted by a three year old.




.

Don't Worry, I Put it On Vibrate

Last summer, I ran over my cell phone. A rather silly story you can read about here. My husband pieced it back together for me, and even though it never worked again, it looked like it should. It had been sitting on my desk, useless, for months (I am not one to really ever put things away...) when it hit me that I could put the useless cell phone in my dramatic play center. The kids would probably like it. I wrote "Pretend phone" on the back of it and tossed it in to the center.

It didn't take them long to discover it. At first, they tried to return it. ("Mrs. V., some grown up lost a cell phone"), but when I told them it was for them to play with, the imaginations took off. Next thing I know they are calling me, calling each other, making appointments and texting. It was interesting how they were able to hold the phone in the proper texting position, and their thumbs would fly.

One morning, we were walking to music class (which is in a different room), and I saw one of my students pull the play cell phone out of his pocket and push a few buttons. When he saw me looking at him, he said, "Don't worry, I put it on vibrate." Well, good, I thought, at least it won't ring during class.

During class, as we were dancing around the room, the keeper of the phone suddenly stopped what he was doing, pulled the phone out of his pocket, and started pressing some buttons. He looked up and said to me, "That was just my dad, he texted me."

I said, "Did you tell him we were in music class?"

"Yes, I am going to call him back later."

And sure enough, later on the playground, I found him underneath the slide, "talking" to his dad on the broken cell phone.



.

You Belong in Preschool

This past weekend my family and I went camping with a group of friends. Correction - the friends were camping, my family and I met them at the campsite and spent the day. I...am not a camper. Sleeping in a tent? On the ground? In the cold? With bugs? Um...not for this preschool teacher. Blegh.


Anyways, back to my story. Because it is such a small world, a family that attends the preschool was camping in this group we met up with, they were friends of friends, you know how it goes. I was interested to see how the little preschool student would react to seeing me there.


Because, preschoolers always get a little weirded out when they see their teachers outside of school. They are either terrified, or beyond excited. And if you look the slightest bit different, they quite possibly won't even recognize you.


Example: I was running in the park across the street from my house and playing in the park was one of my students. I was wearing my glasses (I wear contacts usually at school), a hat, workout clothes, and no make-up. I go up to this little girl to say, "Hi!". She took one look at me and screamed, "I DON"T KNOW YOU! GO AWAY!" and ran and hid behind her mother. This same little girl spent 45 minutes on my lap a mere three hours prior to this encounter. But outside of school sans make-up I went from beloved teacher to scary stranger. And this is pretty much how it goes.


So, at the campsite, I was wondering how little Sara was going to react. At first she didn't even give me a second glance. I was just another adult among many. An hour or so later she walked by, giving me the hairy eyeball...you could just see her brain working. A few hours in she walks up to me and just stood there.

Me: "Hi Sara!"

Sara: *glare*

Me: "Are you having fun?"

Sara: more glaring

Me: "Do you know who I am?"

Sara: "You...you....YOU BELONG IN PRESCHOOL!!"

Me: "But I am camping with you right now"

Sara: "Oh, ok. Could you tell Shawn to share his ball with me then?"


I am happy to report that Sara and Shawn worked things out, ball-wise, without my help.






.

The Return of Patton

Our little preschool has a pet, a little desert tortoise named Patton. This little guy is on loan from Mrs. M's son, and he lives in our garden. The kids take great joy in watching him walk around the garden, feeding him lettuce, and being told "Look with your eyes, not with your hands!"

Last November, Patton went missing. Now, desert tortoises usually hibernate during the cold part of the year, and most of us assumed that Patton had simply dug himself a cozy place way down deep in the garden, and had settled down for his long winter's nap. But Mrs. M was worried...what if he had escaped? What if he was trying to make it on his own in the cold, cruel, world? How would she explain his absence to her son?

Mrs. M brought Mr. M to school, and the two of them dug around in the garden for hours, but their was no sign of Patton. Distraught, Mrs. M decided to tell her son that Patton is hibernating, and deal with the consequences later.

I, on the other hand, was confident Patton was in the garden somewhere. I helped install these gardens, unless he grew really long legs and walked away, or hired a backhoe and tunneled his way out, he was in that garden somewhere.

Months pass. The weather starts to warm up.

One sunny afternoon, Mrs. A and I were outside, sitting on the garden wall, when Mrs. A asks me, "So, do you think Patton will ever show up again?"

And, at that moment, right on cue, out pops Patton from the dirt! He was dirty, and hungry and thirsty, but seemed pretty happy to see us, and once again become the focus of lots and lots



(that's him right in the middle)








and LOTS of attention.















.

Santa vs. Trains

I haven't written for a few weeks - I actually stayed away from the computer for most of my winter break. Weird for me, but I did spend some good, quality time with my family.

But preschool is back in session, and so is my need to share it with you.

The day before school let out for break, we had a small Christmas celebration. We made cookies, had a small gift exchange, and most exciting of all, someone special came to pay a visit. A hint...he wears red and says, "Ho, ho ho!"

Santa has been coming to the school for years. Even though it is a busy time of year for him, he always makes sure he is able to pay our little preschool a visit.

I told my students of the planned visit a couple weeks in advance. I always like to feel them out...is anyone scared of Santa? not know who Santa is? When I told the class "Santa will be coming to visit us in 14 more sleeps!", one little boy was almost speechless, with a smile that took over his whole face. He was so excited, it took him a couple of tries to get these words out, "Does that mean I won't have to wait in line forever to see Santa?" "Yep!" I replied. He was on cloud nine the rest of the day. When his mom arrived to pick him up, he informed her, "We don't need to go to the mall to see Santa, he will be at my school in 14 more sleeps!"

The day of Santa's visit, as a surprise to the boys in my class, I brought out the school's train collection to play with. Normally, I don't break out the trains until I do a Transportation unit, but there are several train enthusiasts in this year's group, and I thought it would be fun for them to play with the trains on their last day of the before break.

Big mistake.

The boys LOVED the trains. The immediately created a complex track system that covered the circle time rug, and developed complicated schedules for the trains to follow, as well as made buildings and villages along the tracks. But when Santa came in, booming, "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!" the boys didn't give him a second glance. "Santa's here? Oh, hey Santa. Look, we have trains!"

Santa didn't mind too much that he was being overshadowed by trains - I guess in his line of work this sort of thing happens a lot. But I had promised the kids' parents pictures with Santa, so I had to convince the boys to stop what they were doing and come talk to Santa. Which they all did, albeit reluctantly. And in each one of their pictures, instead of looking adoringly at the big guy in red, they are looking wistfully over their shoulders at the trains that are waiting for them to come back.

Note to self...next year, bring out the trains AFTER Santa visits.



.

Santa's Reindeer

My class has been doing a lot of pretend play the past few weeks revolving around Christmas. I set up a wrapping center in my room, complete with gift wrap, ribbons, bows and lots and lots and lots of tape. This served as the jumping off point for a game that has continued all week - Santa delivering presents. There are elves that wrap the presents, children who sleep while waiting for Santa, the big guy himself, and of course, the reindeer that pull the sleigh.

"I'll be Rudolph!"

"I'll be Dancer!"

"I'll be Donner!"

"I'll be Prancer!"

and...

"I'll be Blister!"

You all remember Blister, Santa's reindeer whose shoes were too small?


.

Birthdays, Then and Now

I am celebrating a birthday in a couple of months. And the number is kind of a big one. I have found that if I practice saying it a couple of times a day in the months leading up to the fateful day, it is easier to accept it once I get there.

One of my students turned 4 yesterday. She walked onto the campus her head held high, a spring in her step, and a smile that lit up her face. As she walked up to me, I said, "Whose celebrating a birthday today?". The look she gave me was a mixture of disdain and pity.

"Mrs. V., of COURSE it is me. Can't you tell by looking at me that I turned 4 today?"

I love how little ones look so forward to getting older and getting bigger. I love how each birthday represents an achievement, and an automatic check in the "I am more grown-up" column. And how once they reach these landmark birthdays, they look back on their younger years with such nostalgia.

"I remember when I was three, I didn't know how to take turns" one little boy said to me earlier this week, shaking his head as he looked at his classmates squabbling over a block. "Now, that I am four, I know how to share." It should be noted that he has been 4 for about 10 days.

The age technique is one that I keep in my arsenal of Behavior Management Tools. Few words have the affect on a 4-year-old as "Wow, for a minute there, I thought you were three again". The usual reaction is one of horror, like being three was just this side of prison, and then the mistaken behavior usually ends immediately. "I didn't mean to take the firetruck from you and then hit you on the head with it."

I would like to pinpoint the exact age when getting older and getting bigger is no longer an achievement, but an embarrassment.

"Happy Birthday! I had no idea it was your birthday until I looked up your Facebook page. How old are you?"

And you either answer...

"...cough..forty cough..cough four" into your hand

or

"None of your business! I am changing my Facebook profile this intstant!!"

Why can't I answer, with my head held high, a confident spring in my step and a smile that lights up my face, "I am 44! And I remember when I was 43, I was embarrassed about my eye wrinkles. But now that I am 44, I know that eye wrinkles rock!!"


*marin thinks about changing her attitude about her birthday. those 3-year-olds have the right idea, I think...*



.

Birthdays in Preschool

A couple of my students celebrated birthdays this week. We make a big deal out of birthdays in my class; we make cupcakes! The birthday child gets to choose what kind of cake and frosting he wants (I always have a couple of choices on hand), and then we make the cupcakes as a class.

This is a great exercise in beginning recipe reading. Cake mixes now have the pictures of the ingredients right on the box, and the kids take great joy in being able to tell me exactly what ingredients we need to get. By the end of the school year, and the celebration of many birthdays, the students can differentiate between different measuring utensils, and they understand the idea of following the steps in a recipe.

The hardest part of these birthday rituals is trying to convince the kids that they can't lick their fingers, and then stick them back into the bowl. Because, ewww. I have tried several methods to try to curb this temptation. I have gone into long detailed explanations about the transfer of germs via fingers and mouth, but found that by the time I had finished this diatribe that there were about 6 children up to their elbows in cake batter. I have also tried to detail the dangers of e-coli in raw eggs, but this lecture had the same result as the germ lecture. My current strategy is simply saying the rule is no licking fingers at school. This technique has had better results; only two children end up elbow deep in cake batter as opposed to six. I comfort myself that very few germs can survive 10-12 minutes in a 350 degree oven.

We make mini cupcakes, and after they are cooked each child gets a plate with a cupcake, a dollop of the chosen frosting and a small pile of sprinkles. Each child decorates their own cupcake, some with care and detail, some with reckless abandon. Some kids eat each part separately. Last year, I had one little boy who would stuff the whole cupcake in his mouth, and then tell me, mouth full of cupcake, that I forgot to give him his cupcake. He tried this on every single birthday celebration. I am happy to report I only fell for it twice.

The birthday child gets to take the leftover cupcakes, frosting and sprinkles home to decorate with their family.

By the end of the year, my students can whip out a batch of cupcakes in record time. And that is an important life skill.


.

What is Thanksgiving?

My first year of teaching, I posed this question to my three-year-olds, naively thinking that they would be well-versed in Pilgrims, Indians, the Mayflower and such. What I got in response to my question was a sea of blank stares, with one exception. Interestingly, I had one student that year who was able to explain to me exactly what Thanksgiving was; this student had just moved from Australia - where they don't celebrate Thanksgiving. Obviously, the preschool program in that country rocks, what with the focus on American traditions and all. (Trying to return the favor, later in the year we all tried Vegemite. Um....it was gross).

In general, my students have no clue what Thanksgiving is. And, seriously, how could they - I mean, they are three! They have celebrated maybe three Thanksgivings, and only one they may possibly remember. So, after that first year, I dropped the whole Pilgrim, Mayflower, Indian thing and concentrated on what I personally think Thanksgiving is about. Being thankful for what you have and your family.

Explaining "thankful" is tough. At three, you really have no need to be thankful. You are loved and well cared for and the world revolves around you (ideally; I like to think all three year olds are this blessed). So I explain "thankful" as the feeling that makes you feel happy and good inside. I read Thanks for Thanksgiving, which does a pretty good job of listing things that make you feel happy and relating it to the holiday. We spend about a week talking about what "thankful" is, and then I ask the class, "What are you thankful for?" Some answers this year were...

Candy corn

Everyone and everything

The "Tinkerbell" DVD

Dance class

Santa bringing me a puppy

My friends

Mrs. V (I swear, I didn't give hints!)

My mom and my dad

My new baby

All the colors

My family

I think they more or less got the concept. I know there are some days when I myself am thankful for candy corn and my friends. Of course, chocolate is always on my list, too.

I do still ask the question, "What is Thanksgiving?", always curious about what the kids will say. This year, I had the usual sea of blank stares, with one exception. One little boy raised his hand and said, "Thanksgiving is a day when you eat lots of turkey and food, and you spend all day with your family, and you tell them you love them."

Wow, this little guy pretty much nailed the holiday for me. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Happy Thanksgiving!!


.

The Rules of the Playground

As the school year starts, my little students are inundated with new information and new experiences. Because they are so overwhelmed, I try not to say "No" to them too often, instead using their actions as an opportunity to teach them about how things work in preschool.

"At school, if you want a toy your friend is playing with, we don't take it from them and then hit them with it."

"At school, tables are for coloring and gluing on, not jumping off of."

"At school, we use crayons for coloring on paper, not coloring on the walls."

But I do have some hard and fast rules on the playground, rules that need to be adhered to. There are only three, and after the first couple weeks of school, my students can recite them to me.

1. No standing on the tire swing; it only took one child going to the emergency room to have me be very stringent about this rule.

2. No throwing sand; if you have ever gotten sand in your eyes, you know that this is a biggie. And while it is hard to get sand out of my own eyes, it is truly nightmarish to have to hold down a three year old to rinse out his eyes.

3. No putting sand in the water fountain. Kids love playing with sand and water, and it is a natural inclination to use the water fountain to get water for that type of play. The only hitch is that when sand gets into the water fountain, it ceases to function. And a water fountain is a big necessity on a playground when the temperatures go up to 112 degrees. So, we tell the kids, if you need water, ask one of us and we will turn on the hose.

We are well into our third month of school, and my students shout these rules to me every day as we are about to go onto the playground. Occasionally, I will ask them why these rules are in place. Last week, I got the standard answers....

"Why don't we stand on the tire swing?"

"It's not safe!"

"Why don't we throw sand?"

"It hurts when it gets in your eyes!"

"Why don't we put sand in the water fountain?"

Now, the reasoning for this one is admittedly a little beyond my students' grasp. In general, I get some blank stares, and I remind them that if they need water, to come get me or another teacher to turn on the hose. But this time, when I posed the question, a particularly astute student shouted out...

"Because it is a drinking fountain!"

A sea of light bulbs went on over my students' heads. They all got why that rule was so important now. Of course you don't put sand in a drinking fountain - that is silly!

A little boy then asked, "Why do you call the drinking fountain the water fountain?" I don't know, I told him, but from now on that is what I am going to call it.

And funny, this year, the drinking fountain has had less sand issues so far than in years past. Funny, how one word can make such a difference. And amazing how a three year old thought of it.



..

Teaching...Scottsdale in the Fall

As I rambled about in my last post, teaching about Fall in the Arizona desert is a challenge, to say the least. And even though I have abandoned it, my colleagues (who teach older children) have forged onward, hoping to someday come up with the perfect way to talk about Fall to children who live in a climate where that season simply doesn't exist.

Last week, one of these dedicated women walked into my classroom, hands on hips, wearing the fall uniform of tank top, shorts and flip flops, with sweat running down her cheeks because even though it was only 7:30 in the morning, it was already 95 degrees outside, and she says, "How the heck do we teach Fall when it is still Summer???" She didn't say "Heck", though.

I did my obligatory self righteous "I don't teach Fall, so there" shrug, when I suddenly had an epiphany. Why don't we come up with what Fall means to us? Here in the Arizona desert? And maybe put it into a book that could be used year after year? We would be famous!

So, my colleagues and I set about trying to come up with what Fall means in Scottsdale....

Everyone is sick of the heat.

The kids need school clothes but the stores only have winter clothes in stock (one of the greater mysteries of living in the desert).

The pool is too cold for Mom to go in, but everyone else thinks it is great.

The stores all have the Christmas stuff on display.

Halloween.

And...that was all we got. So, I went to our best resource - the kids. "What does this time of year mean to you?" I asked anyone who would stand still long enough for me to get the question out.

Some answers....

I started school.

The pool is too cold for Mom to go in, but I still love to swim.

We open the windows at night.

We planted a garden.

Oohhh...these were good. I could see a book coming together.

Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting on the playground with a couple of kindergartners; former students of mine.

Ann: "Mrs. V, have you ever made a huge pile of leaves and jumped into it?"

Me: "Why, yes I have. Have you?"

Ann (wistfully staring into space): "No, but I read about it in a book once..."

Me (inside my head): Wow, are we depriving these desert children a right of passage by not having them be able to jump into a pile of leaves??

John (excitedly):"There is a huge pile of leaves over by the fence! Why don't we gather them together and jump in them?"

The two of them then ran over to the "huge" pile of leaves - probably 12 leaves all together - and they gathered them into a "pile" about 4 inches in diameter. Then they took turns jumping up and down on that little tiny pile of leaves. They took the resulting leaf dust and made pies and cakes out of it, and served it to their friends.

So, they didn't jump into a pile of leaves. But as I recall, that was never as much fun as you thought it was going to be. Raking leaves for me was a chore - man, I hated Fall. And if I ever did decide to jump into the pile of leaves I painstakingly raked together, inevitably I either landed on a very sharp stick or dog poop. I am thinking that Ann and John's version was way more fun. Fallen leaves are a novelty, and not something you see very often. Therefore they are truly appreciated here in the desert. And maybe that should be part of this book that I think we should write.

This morning, one of my students arrived, and spun around in pure delight. (Only a very young child can spin around in pure delight. Older people just get dizzy). "Oh, Mrs. V," she said. "Isn't it just beautiful outside today?". And it was. Temps are finally a little cooler at night, and it was a wonderful morning.

"I just love the Fall" she continued.

"The Fall?" I asked, excited. Finally, I was going to find out what Fall meant to a three year old. "What does Fall mean?" I got down on my knees to hear her answer.

She stopped spinning, and looked at me with that look of pity. That look that says, "Does this woman know nothing?" (I get that one a lot.)

She bent down, picked up a leaf, and said, "Mrs. V., Fall is when leaves fall from the trees. That is Fall."

Hmmm....perhaps I have been trying too hard. Fall is when leaves fall from (some) trees. Does it really need to be more than that when you are three?

The Germ Experiment

Every year I try to find a way to explain the concept of germs to my students. I feel that a basic understanding of what germs are, and how they spread, would make it easier to encourage the covering of coughs and washing of hands, as well as discourage the licking of toys and each other.

For awhile, I read "Those Mean Nasty Dirty Downright Disgusting but...Invisible Germs"; this book does a pretty good job of talking about germs - how you can't see them, but how they are there. It also emphasizes the importance of washing and drying your hands. This worked all well and good until I had a little girl completely freak out because all these germs were crawling all over her. "I can't see them but I know they are there!" she shrieked, as she washed her hands over and over again, tears streaming down her face.

Yikes! Since one of my main goals is to make preschool a fun and inviting place, this turn of events was a tad disturbing. I often wonder if that little girl ended up in therapy....(sorry, sweetie).

My next go at explaining germs was attempting a discussion. Who has ever been sick? What kind of sick was it? What made you sick? Eventually I would talk about how germs make you sick, and at the end of couple weeks of discussion (keeping in mind a group discussion with a group of three-year-olds lasts about 3 minutes a session) we would make germs. I had the kids squirt some paint into the middle of a piece of construction paper, fold it in half, then open it again. On the resulting interestingly shaped blob, they could draw a face, and then tell me what kind of germ it was. A headache germ? A throw-up germ? A cough germ?

This was moderately successful; I felt a couple of the kids understood, but then I had a little boy freak out that the germ he created was actually living in his body. "Make it get out! I don't want that germ in me!" he yelled as he sobbed in my arms.

Yikes, again. It was at that point I decided to abandon the germ unit all together. I decided just to teach proper hand washing, and how to properly cover a cough (use your "elbow pit!"), and leave germs to their future teachers (good luck with that!).

Then I learned about a great germ experiment at the science camp I keep talking about. You spread a lotion on your hands, and when you shine a black light on your hands the "germs", actually a glow in the dark powder, glow. You then wash your hands, put them under the black light again, and see how thorough a hand-washing you did. You could even wait to wash hands, and handle objects all over the classroom. Then, shine a black light in the classroom, and see where all the germs are. I thought this experiment had potential with the three-year-olds, so I thought I would give it a try.

I introduced the lotion as a special lotion that shows the germs on our hands. I squirted lotion on each child's hand and had them rub it in. Then I turned out the lights, put on the black light, and they all admired their glowing hands. There were oohs and ahhs galore.

Then I said, "Everyone go wash their hands, and we will see if there are any germs left!" Off they went and came back out eager to see their hands under the black light again. Imagine the disappointment when their hands didn't glow nearly as bright. We had tears, "I want the germs back on my hands!", "Please give me more germs!" And we had anger - "Why did you make me wash my germs off??"

So, I happily reapplied the germs, and let them admire their glowing hands to their hearts content. I will start the "How to Cover Your Cough With Your Elbow Pit" unit next week. And chalk this one up to another in my list of Germ Unit Failures.

On an up note, the four-year-old and five-year-old classes did the same experiment, and it was a raving success. So my students will have another chance to grasp the concept next year.