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.
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Saturday, January 10, 2009
Sunday, December 14, 2008
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?
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"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?
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Saturday, December 6, 2008
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...*
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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...*
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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.
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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.
.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Clouds!
In Scottsdale, Arizona, it is sunny a lot. I mean A LOT. It never rains, and rarely are there clouds in the sky. Try doing a unit on It Looked Like Spilt Milk; the students all lay on their backs, look at the sky and say, "Clouds? What clouds?"
I gave up doing the weather as part of my circle time after two years of...
"What's the weather today?"
"Sunny and hot"
The student who got to say "Cloudy" or "Windy" or "Rainy" was a hero; on the few cloudy or windy or rainy days we got, there were tears - everyone was desperate for the opportunity to change the little sunshine picture to another picture. I decided that weather in Scottsdale was not only boring when you are three, but a little too intense as well. When it rains in this town, we celebrate, we don't cry because it is not our turn to do the weather.
So we sing songs now.
But doing the weather is a part of Kindergarten. And this week, the weather in our fair city turned. We had clouds, cool temperatures and a chance of rain. And if it was your day to do the weather in kindergarten, it was an excellent day.
I was outside on the playground with my class, when the kindergartner weather watcher of the day stuck his head out of the door. And it is hard to describe his delight. A big smile lit up his face, and he literally jumped for joy. "It's cloudy! It's cloudy! I get to take down the sun!" His announcement was met not with groans of disappointment and tears from his classmates; but the question, "Do you think it will rain?" I guess two more years of living in the desert has taught these now wise kindergartners that while it is a bummer not to get to replace the sun with clouds on your weather day, the chance of rain makes that slight disappointment worth it.
And, it rained buckets that night. So, so, so awesome.
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I gave up doing the weather as part of my circle time after two years of...
"What's the weather today?"
"Sunny and hot"
The student who got to say "Cloudy" or "Windy" or "Rainy" was a hero; on the few cloudy or windy or rainy days we got, there were tears - everyone was desperate for the opportunity to change the little sunshine picture to another picture. I decided that weather in Scottsdale was not only boring when you are three, but a little too intense as well. When it rains in this town, we celebrate, we don't cry because it is not our turn to do the weather.
So we sing songs now.
But doing the weather is a part of Kindergarten. And this week, the weather in our fair city turned. We had clouds, cool temperatures and a chance of rain. And if it was your day to do the weather in kindergarten, it was an excellent day.
I was outside on the playground with my class, when the kindergartner weather watcher of the day stuck his head out of the door. And it is hard to describe his delight. A big smile lit up his face, and he literally jumped for joy. "It's cloudy! It's cloudy! I get to take down the sun!" His announcement was met not with groans of disappointment and tears from his classmates; but the question, "Do you think it will rain?" I guess two more years of living in the desert has taught these now wise kindergartners that while it is a bummer not to get to replace the sun with clouds on your weather day, the chance of rain makes that slight disappointment worth it.
And, it rained buckets that night. So, so, so awesome.
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Tuesday, November 25, 2008
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!!
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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!!
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Tell me About Your Family
I love listening to three year olds describe what is important to them. As part of my Thanksgving theme, I asked my students to talk about their parents. I asked them to "tell me about your mom and dad". And here is what some of them said....
My mom looks the same as me in a different way
My dad is tall and he has a neck. He works sometimes.
My mom has red hair and clothes and ears
My mom has brown hair and lots of shoes
My dad drinks beer and red bull and gives me vitamins
My mom is short and has yellow hair. She cooks apples and then she eats them.
My mom has blond hair. I just love everything about her
My dad has black hair and he tells me stories at night
My mom takes care of my little brother. She doesn't take care of me, I'm too big. My mom looks like a mom. But my daddy looks like my brother and he takes care of me.
My mom is pretty and she wears ponytails. I love her because she takes care of me
My mom looks like my mom because she is my mom. I just love her.
My dad is tall and he loves me so much.
Her looks pretty. She is a girl. She has a girl face. My dad is my dad. He has a boy face.
My dad has short hair and he is big and nice.
Each of the kids made paper dolls to represent their parents, I wrote down what they said next to the corresponding doll.
When my kids were in preschool, I treasured these little bits of insight their teachers captured for me. Interestingly, a common theme from all of my children were, 1. I was always cleaning (weird because I have never met a dust bunny I didn't like) and 2. I was drinking beer. Hmmmm....what kind of home life did my kids' teachers think they had???
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My mom looks the same as me in a different way
My dad is tall and he has a neck. He works sometimes.
My mom has red hair and clothes and ears
My mom has brown hair and lots of shoes
My dad drinks beer and red bull and gives me vitamins
My mom is short and has yellow hair. She cooks apples and then she eats them.
My mom has blond hair. I just love everything about her
My dad has black hair and he tells me stories at night
My mom takes care of my little brother. She doesn't take care of me, I'm too big. My mom looks like a mom. But my daddy looks like my brother and he takes care of me.
My mom is pretty and she wears ponytails. I love her because she takes care of me
My mom looks like my mom because she is my mom. I just love her.
My dad is tall and he loves me so much.
Her looks pretty. She is a girl. She has a girl face. My dad is my dad. He has a boy face.
My dad has short hair and he is big and nice.
Each of the kids made paper dolls to represent their parents, I wrote down what they said next to the corresponding doll.
When my kids were in preschool, I treasured these little bits of insight their teachers captured for me. Interestingly, a common theme from all of my children were, 1. I was always cleaning (weird because I have never met a dust bunny I didn't like) and 2. I was drinking beer. Hmmmm....what kind of home life did my kids' teachers think they had???
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