Science!

As I have alluded to in several posts, I had the amazing opportunity this summer to attend Steve Spangler's Science in the Rockies, a three day conference that focused on how to get kids excited about science. It was an amazing experience, and I came home armed with the knowledge and supplies to start teaching science to my preschoolers.

So, I had the knowledge, I had the supplies, but how to actually go about doing it? I was stumped. I tried having a formal science time. That was a miserable failure. (Ok, kids everyone join me over here for an experiment. Yeah right - like they were going to leave the playdough table for an exper-what is that is she said?). My colleague hit upon the perfect formula. Just set up a center. Do a couple of demonstrations, and then let the kids learn how how to do it. Explain what is happening, and even if it goes over their head, you have planted the seed. My current strategy is to pose a have the kids give me answers, and then we see what happens.

Living in Arizona, this time of year is incredibly hot and the sun is amazingly strong. What better time to do experiments that involve the sun? We talked a lot about how the UV beads (see my post about my first week) change color in the sun. Then we used sunprint paper to make prints.

Question: What will happen if we set objects on this paper and then put the paper in the sun?

Answers:

• It will change colors (good thinking - that is what happened with the beads)
• Nothing - it's paper
• The wind will blow it away

Result - Really cool sun prints, and the kids loved making them on their own...

Next we melted crayons...

Question: What will happen when we put these crayons in the sun?

Answers:

• They will disappear
• They will change colors
• They will go to my house

Result - they did change colors and disappear! They did not, however, go to that little girl's house. The kids loved this, too. We melted lots of crayons in star shaped tins, now we have lots of star shaped multi-colored crayons. The best part of this experiment - the pure joy of peeling the paper from the crayons and then breaking them. Fun!

Then there were three days in a row where it was cloudy (clouds and rain always catch us by surprise in AZ) - I had to break away from sun and try something else... I opted for Clear Spheres. These are little tiny beads that when you place them in water overnight they become marble sized gooey feeling balls. The sensory feeling is really cool. I set out the beads and asked the kids....

Question: Hmmm....what do you think would happen if I put these beads in water?

Answers:

• They will change color (still in UV bead mode)
• They will melt
• They will disappear
• They will be bigger (awesome guess!)
• They will turn into ice
• Nothing
• How should I know?

Results: The kids LOVED the big spheres. They tossed them around, they squeezed them until they burst, used them in play (these are dinosaur eggs!). Two children asked what made get so big, and I talked about how the spheres were made from the same stuff that is in diapers - and just like a diaper, get bigger when they get wet. The kids were suitably grossed out and amazed. I will bring these out again when we do colors.

Next up? Using packing peanuts to build with.

Question: Sooooo...what do you think will happen if we dip these packing peanuts in water?

Answers:

• They will get bigger (remember the Clear Spheres?)
• They will disappear
• Nothing
• They will change color

Results: They made awesome sculptures. They loved how they could stick these starch based peanuts on top of each other. They also loved how they turned into goop when completely soaked. Some kids even had the great idea to paint them.

So, so far science has been awesome! Stay tuned, I will continue to document how this whole science thing goes...

Baring It All In Preschool

Preschool doesn't really feel like preschool until a naked child wanders out of the bathroom. Well, today it happened, and now I feel like my year is finally under way.

Going to the potty is a big deal when you are three. Going to the potty at school when you are three is huge! There are some cool things about the potty at school - the toilet is really small, the sink is the perfect height, and you can use a zillion paper towels to dry your hands if the teacher doesn't see.

There are also some not so cool things. The fans in our bathrooms come on automatically, and they sound similar to a jet taking off. Not exactly quiet. Not especially appealing to little ones who don't like loud noises. There is also the issue of having to stop what you are doing to go potty. When it is time to potty at home you can leave the toy you are playing with, and more than likely, it will be there when you get back. Not so much at preschool. Imagine the frustration of finally getting a turn with that fire truck you have been waiting for, and suddenly you have to go potty. Some kids will simply go in their pants, and either deal with the consequences when they come; or claim ignorance.

I watched a little boy go potty, and then subtly just step out of the puddle he created. When I pointed the puddle out to him, and made the suggestion that we go change his clothes - he acted surprised..."Where did that come from?"

I assure all of my students that I will watch the toy they are playing with, save their place in line, do whatever it takes so they feel comfortable enough to leave and go potty.

Once the kids get to the potty there is an entire dialogue that takes place.

Child: "I'm done!"
Me: "Did you flush?"
Child: "Oops!"
Child reappears: "I flushed!"
Me: "Did you wash your hands?"
Child: "Oops!"
Child reappears: "I washed my hands!"
Me (about 50% of the time): "Did you dry your hands?"
Child: "Oops!"

About 10% of the time, the above dialogue starts with: "Did you remember to pull up your pants?" because the child will come out, pants down around the ankles, so intent on getting back to what he was doing that he couldn't even take the time to get the pants back up. And they are always surprised.

Me: "Did you pull up your pants?"
Child, looking perplexed as he looks down, then shocked as he exclaims: "Oops!"

Every year we have one Naked Pooper. A Naked Pooper is a child who needs to get completely undressed to do his business. And then, usually, needs help getting redressed. So, he (or she) will come out of the bathroom into the classroom, looking for assistance. Last year, my Naked Pooper would simply forget that he needed to get redressed. I would look across the room, and there he would be, standing at the easel, buck naked. Weird thing, only me and the parents working in the classroom thought it was weird - his classmates didn't give him a second glance.

Today's naked moment occurred when a student forgot to pull up her pants. As she walked out of the bathroom, she was ready for my barrage of questions. "I already flushed the toilet and washed my hands!" she announced victoriously. "Sweetie, you need to pull up your pants before you come out of the potty, but I am proud you remembered to flush." To which she responded, "Why do I need to pull up my pants?"

The First Week

Well, school has started. And can I just say? It's awesome! I was so nervous (see previous post), but after only a few hours with this new group of kids, I know that it will be another fun year. Each and every one of them is wonderful, and I look forward to getting to know them, and their families, this year.

The first week of school has a lot of the same things that happen year after year. There are always accidents, there are always tears (from both the 3 year olds, as well as the grown-ups), there are always spills, there is always a naked child running around, and there are always special "aha" moments. And each year, stuff happens that has never happened before. That's how this job never becomes boring or run of the mill. There is always something different for me to experience.

Every year I get peed on, this year was no exception. The little girl was sitting on my lap, telling me about her play dough creation, when suddenly I felt that familiar warm, damp feeling spreading over my leg.

Me: Honey, you just had an accident, let's go change your clothes.
Her: No, I didn't. (looking slightly offended that I would suggest such a thing)
Me: Yes, you did - look, my leg is wet.
Her: I think you had an accident, and you should go change your clothes.
Me: (thinking to myself - I really need to bring a change of clothes to school)
Her: It's OK, Mrs. V., everyone has accidents
Me: I know, so let's go change you out of your wet clothes
Her: You know, there is a potty right there so you don't have accidents
Me: (choosing my battle) You are right.

Last year, I was puked on. Not just a little bit, but literally from head to toe; I think that little girl puked up an entire week of meals down the front of me - I was covered. My colleague had to hose me down. A little pee on my leg was gravy compared to that.

This year I have a couple of puzzle experts. I hate puzzles, always have. As a preschool teacher, it is the bane of my existence to have to put together puzzles at the end of the day that the kids have left scattered all over the floor. Ack! It takes me forever. And it gives me a headache. And these are just 6 and 8 piece puzzles. It really gets hard when one of those 25 piece puzzles is spread from one end of my classroom to the other. Usually I just throw all the pieces back in the box, and hope all the pieces are there.

I own the fact that I am not a fan of puzzles, and I always share this information with my students. They usually feel sorry for me ("It must make you sad that you can't do puzzles") or slightly embarrassed for me ("All grown-ups can do puzzles, why can't you?"). When a couple of my students dragged out my neat and tidy stack of already put together puzzles, and promptly dumped them all over the place, I said, after mentally sighing that there goes my afternoon, "I am terrible at puzzles, I hope you guys can put these back together", one of the little girls looks up at me and says, "Don't you worry, Mrs. V., I know puzzles." And she did. I am replacing the 8 piece puzzles with the more challenging 25 piece puzzles this week - she informed me that the current puzzles were "incredibly easy" and "not all that fun". She also gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder as she said, "But these puzzles are sometimes a little hard."

Of course, there were spills, although, not as many as in the past. I am big on self reliance, and a skill you learn in my class is how to pour your own juice and water. It is fun to watch the kids navigate the large pitcher (it's actually quite small, but it looks gigantic in the hands of a three year old); they hold it shakily over their cup, and watch in amazement as the liquid goes where it is supposed to (in the cup). And they are so awestruck by their accomplishment, that they just keep pouring and pouring until the cup over flows. And sometimes the phenomenon of juice creating an ever growing puddle in front of them is so cool that they continue to pour. That is why there are always lots of paper towels around. Because everyone spills, it is no big deal, but it has to be cleaned up. This week, when I recited that particular mantra, the reply I got from the puddle (lake) creator was, "Oh, I don't clean up spills; that's my mom's job." To which I replied, "At school, it is your job." She definitely did not like that aspect of the preschool experience.

This year, I found myself in a conversation that I had never experienced before. A little guy walks up to me and asks when I'm going to get out my guitar and play for them. Hmmmm....I don't play guitar (I would like to - I have a guitar - but I never seem to have enough time for lessons. OK - we all know that is a cop out. Anyways...). I tell this inquisitive little guy that I don't play guitar, so I won't be getting it out today. He walks off, seemingly satisfied with my answer. Until five minutes later when he walks up to me again and asks "When are you going to play your really loud guitar and sing for us?" Well, no pressure there. Not only do I need to play guitar, but it needs to be an electric guitar and I have to sing as well. I am currently trying to find myself lessons - I can't let this little guy down. (Hope he will be okay with an acoustic guitar...)

Another first for me this year was the pet unicorn one of my students brought to school. This unicorn, Uni, is rainbow colored, with red legs and pink eyes, and enjoys eating grass on the playground. She also likes the special unicorn apples I keep in my pocket. Uni and I hit it off right away - and her owner was pleased that I understood how special Uni is, and how imporant it is that she has her own place on the carpet. So I could better know what Uni looked like, I asked her owner to paint me a picture of her....


So far, there has been no nakedness...but the year is young.

I started incorporating all the science I learned over the summer into my day this week. Although transitions are a little shaky (how do I get three year olds to move away from the instuments and join me for a science experiment? Still searching for a quick and engaging song....suggestions?) We made necklaces from the UV Beads; and the kids were amazed at their changing color abilities. Two kids figured out right away that the sun was what causing the change. Most of them thought it was magic - which is fine. Because now I am the cool teacher who gives out magic beads. We are continuing our discussion next week. Eventually they will all know that the sun is the real magic and I am not all that magical.

We also did the Bouncing Bubble Experiment, and it was the coolest thing to watch the kids figure out how to blow the bubble, then get it off of the wand and then bounce it. A lot of steps for little ones, and the look of pure amazement on their faces when they figured it out was worth the soapy lake that my classroom became.

This year is going to be great.

And So We Start Again

This summer I had the amazing opportunity to attend Steve Spangler's Science in the Rockies, an amazing three day conference that taught me how to make science an exciting experience for kids. Check out Steve's website here: http://www.stevespanglerscience.com/. Also, to see photos and video of what I, my colleagues and 175 other teachers did, visit here: http://web.mac.com/stevespanglerscience/SITR2008/Friday.html.

Steve Spangler is quite a guy. He has that passion for teaching that those of us who love what we do can relate to. Every aspect of his presentation was how to get the kids involved, and how to make it all about the kids.

Along with obtaining an enormous amount of information about science, Steve said something that really resonated with me. He said that if a teacher isn't nervous about the new school year starting, then it is time for that teacher to retire.

Well, my new school year starts in 10 more sleeps, and I am nervous as all get out. Guess that means I have at least another year in me.

This will be my sixth year doing this, a relatively short time on the one hand, but long enough to have gained some confidence on the other. And I am confident that I have some wonderful things planned (we're talking lots of science, people! Science in preschool - how cool will that be?). I am confident that I am able to talk the language of the three year old, and I am confident that most of the stuff that has been awesome in the past will most likely be awesome this year.

Why am I nervous? What if the class doesn't "gel"? What if my ability to communicate with a three year old suddenly fails with this new group of kids? What if they suddenly realize I am not all that cool? What if they don't think I'm funny? What if they aren't potty trained? What if I suddenly become incontinent? What if more than a couple of them are biters, or spitters, or temper tantrum throwers (I can handle two or three, more than that, I need reinforcements).

I work in a cooperative preschool. This means that the parents are part of the teaching team, they are part of their children's education. At least one parent is in the classroom with me every day. Pretty awesome, but a lot of my nerves come from wondering what the parents are thinking about me.

The first few weeks in my class are chaos. A wonderful, loud, unorganized, chaos. I give the kids time and freedom to explore their classroom. Little by little we get down to business, eventually a routine is achieved, but I leave a lot of that up to the kids. For example, I might have written on my daily schedule 15 minutes for music. But if the kids have found a musical groove, I am not going to cut things short just because time's up.

I am nervous that parents aren't going to get that. That the chaos will drive them nuts. And they won't understand how important it is. I try to give everyone a head's up before school starts, and I hope that each and every parent that walks into my classroom will experience the absolute joy of watching their child learn how to navigate in this new environment.

You know what? I am nervous. But I am also really excited. I absolutely love what I do, and I simply can't wait to get to know my new students, and their families, and have yet another incredible year together. All that other stuff? I can handle it - except maybe the incontinence, but hopefully I have a year or to left before that becomes an issue for me. Maybe when that happens, the nervousness will have worn off and it will be time for me to find a new career. Spokesperson for Depends, perhaps?

Mommy, Don't Leave!

Separation anxiety.

I always tell people that my oldest daughter had terrible separation anxiety. That it was hard for her to be away from me. When she started preschool, it was terrible - she would cry and beg me to stay, and I would, sometimes for the whole day.

Looking back, I now think it was me with the separation anxiety. I hated leaving my daughter with anyone that wasn't me - only I knew what was best for my child. No one could possibly understand her as well as I could, and take care of her needs the same way that I could. That list of no one included her father, her grandparents, and pretty much anyone who wasn't me. Obviously, I thought quite highly of myself.

When it was time to start preschool, I had done my homework. I researched (at the library, no less, this was back when AOL was new-fangled) and studied about all the different types of preschools there were - and there were, and are still, many different schools of thought in the preschool world. Montessori, cooperative, Reggio Emilio, Waldorf - yikes! But I studied each one and visited countless preschools. The school I finally chose - where I teach now - offered a warm, loving environment, had a cooperative philosophy, and was highly recommended by not only parenting publications in my area, but other parents. I visited this school a number of times, with my daughter, and felt really good about my decision.

Then why couldn't I leave her? Why did I have to stay with her and hold her hand? Because she was crying, and what kind of mom would I be if I left her when she was crying?

As the time for beginning preschool approached, I had numerous conversations with my daughter about preschool. I talked a lot about how big she was, how she would make lots of friends, how much I would miss her and how I would count the minutes until I came to pick her up. Looking back - I gave a lot a baggage to a three year old; did she really need to feel responsible for me missing her? Or that I would be so lonely I would count minutes until she was back with me again? No wonder she cried, and didn't want me to leave.

And during these crying sessions at drop off, I would hold her and cry too, more often than not. I would tell her that school is really short, and that I would be back real soon. I even promised her I would wait in the car, and wouldn't leave in case she needed me. And believe it or not, I did just that.

So, what did I teach my daughter in those early years? That it was her job to make me happy. That I was not OK when she was at school. That it wasn't OK for her to be away from me, because I was sad. That she should be with me and not at school. That she was responsible for my happiness.

OK, guilt maybe forcing me to lay it on a bit thick, but when I look back to my daughter's first year of preschool, I cringe. Here I was, trying to be perfect Mom, and really, I was not making an important transition in my daughter's life very easy. Hindsight being what it is, I know now that the transition was mine too. I needed to accept that in order for my daughter to be self-confident and self reliant, that I had to allow her to be around another people. I had to trust my decisions, and allow her to venture off on her own. And I had to accept the fact that my way was NOT the only way. As a matter of fact, the more people she was exposed to, the more well-rounded and self-confident she would become.

I am lucky that my daughter's first teacher was a patient and kind woman who had experienced exactly what I was going through. She held my hand, after weeks of my angst, and assured me that if my daughter didn't stop crying in 20 minutes, that she would call me. But she was certain that if I simply said, "Good-bye, I will see you when school is over", and left - the campus - that my daughter would be fine. And eventually the tears would stop, and before I knew it she would run into the classroom without a backwards glance.

And you know what? She was right.

Once Bitten Twice Shy

I had a parent ask me for advice this week on how to make her child stop biting her friends. Ahh, biting, an issue that is always fun, and not at all embarrassing for the parents, to deal with.

I remember the first time my oldest daughter was bitten in preschool. Being my first child, and not being a biter herself, I was absolutely horrified that this happened. What horrible child did this to my precious baby? What kind of parents bring up a child who bites? I could barely look those poor parents in the eye, I was so self righteous in my anger.

Because, karma has a way of getting you back, my son (and third child) was a biter. And boy, was it ever fun to face the parent's of my son's victims - some as self righteous and indignant as I was.

"Yes, my son was raised by wolves"

"Yes, my son does live in a pen in the backyard"

"Yes, my son does have all of his shots"

It was easier to face the parents who also had a child who was a biter. We could share solutions (muzzles, wiring the jaw shut) and techniques for curbing the biting.

What this experience taught me was that biting is a fairly common thing in the preschool world, and gave me some insight on how to deal with biters when I became a teacher. Every year, I have a biter or two. In general, the biting phase is a short one, and once the reason for the biting becomes clear, it can be stopped.

A lot of times, biting is simply an act of frustration. The child gets so angry that the only way to get his point across is to use his teeth. With this biter, I talk about using words, walking away, and other techniques to get the point across. Another good solution is to make the biter care for his victim. Have the biter help the bitee wash the wound, get the bitee ice, and then sit with the bitee until the bitee feels better. Sometimes, after seeing all the pain their bite casued, the biter will think twice about biting again.

One year I had a biter who bit for the sake of biting. This was harder. One day, I stopped him as his victim's arm was in his mouth.

"Stop! Why are you trying to bite your friend?"

"Because it looked like his arm would fit in my mouth"

I....had nothing. Especially when the victim also thought it was interesting that his arm fit in the biter's mouth. The genius words I came up with for this situation?

"We only use our mouths and teeth for eating"

I said this to this little guy several times during the year - I am happy to report that he currently uses his mouth for its intended use - most of the time.

As for my son? He is no longer a biter. What stopped him was a combination of a huge consequence ("no sleepover with your aunt next time you bite, young man!"), as well as getting bitten himself. ("Gosh, mom, it really hurts when a friend bites you")

The parents of my son's biter were absolutely mortified that their son bit mine. Poor things couldn't look me in the eye for weeks. It wasn't until I thanked them for curing my son of his biting that they actually made eye contact with me again. And they realized that although biting is never a good thing, for some kids, it is a normal thing. And, like most phases, it usually passes.

Mobile Sensory Experience...in the Summer

This week I took my my kids to the community pool which is conveniently located across the street from my house. We like this pool, it has an awesome play structure, big water slides and a high dive, features which the pool in our backyard doesn't offer. And, since we live in a small(ish) town, inevitably we see friends when we go there. Another feature our backyard pool doesn't offer unless I decide to put forth a little effort.

As luck would have it, on this visit, a former student was their with his family. Students, both current and former are always excited to see me at the pool - and I like seeing them. Mostly, because I know they are not looking at my thighs and thinking, "Get some sun and visit a gym, girlfriend!" They just want to show me how they can hold their breath, or blow bubbles, or see how I shriek when they splash me with water.

So, I am sitting in the shallow end of the pool, keeping an eye on my kids and conversing with this former student. He is sitting in front of me, talking a mile a minute about how he can't wait until he is tall enough to go on the water slides (an important right of passage in our neck of the woods). Suddenly, he decides he is leaving me for someone more interesting, and he grabs onto my leg to pull himself up out of the water. And since my freshly shaven leg provided no traction, he slid right back down again. At which point he said, "Why isn't your leg pokey like in school, I need it to help me get up!" I suggested he wait a few days, and then meet me at the pool again, I would have all the pokies he would need at that time.

And there I have my excuse for not shaving this summer - what if a former student needs to use my leg as a prop to get out of the pool?

Yeah, not sure that will fly, especially as the hair gets long enough to braid. (heading to the shower to remove pool traction)