First Week of First Grade

Be not alarmed by this post.
I am fully capable of teaching children and being responsible for their safety.
But if you are a parent, you know that there are fleeting moments of disarray.
So naturally, if you are responsible for 22 children at one time,
there will be very rare, few instances of such disarray.

I am dead tired.
I am experiencing a bit of culture shock,
as I adjust from teaching second graders to teaching first graders...

It truly is amazing what a difference a year makes.

They are so stinkin' cute...
and just so little, seeking constant guidance and help in this great big world.

I think you have to have a mothering nature and bionic high energy capacity in you
to teach pre-school, Kindergarten, and first grade.

Even the routine of eating lunch that we so effortlessly go through the motions of everyday are huge to little guys who are just experiencing it for the first time.

I never really thought about what eating in the lunch room
for the first time would be like for a little one.

Let me tell ya, it is quite an experience.

I witnessed it first hand last Tuesday, as I watched young eyes swell huge with eager anticipation and anxiety, and short legs recklessly scurry in through the doors of the lunch room...

small hands fumbled with a foreign milk cartons,
asking the adults where the straw for these things were...
tiny fingers fought to independently open cheese sticks and GoGurts.

excitement, mixed with unsure nervousness buzzed in the air

I glanced over just in time to see one little guy toss his entire lunch tray into the trash can...
thus sending me on a nice little dumpster diving maneuver followed by a tray scrapping lesson.

But pandemonium broke loose when four classes of lunch room newbies
went to return their lunch boxes to their classroom designated lunch tubs.

The lunch tubs that were clearly marked with their teachers' printed names...
that they could not read.

A laminated life size school picture of my head was promptly plastered to the front of my lunch tub to avoid such future confusion.

BUT...
You see...the thing about the lunch tub
is that I keep forgetting to have the kids pick the thing up after we return from specials.

Thus leading to the following fabulous scenario...

My heart rate increases and my blood pressure is rising as I am frantically trying to get 22 spastic first graders all packed up to go home Wednesday at 3:55, mere minutes before the bell rings...only to realize
we. do. not. have. our .lunch. tub.
great.

Which simply is not an option when 13 out of those 22 children are emotionally attached to their lunch boxes they need to bring home so they can pack their lunches for the next school day.

Audible relief floods over my class as my life size laminated face comes careening around the corner of our hall as two kids retrieve the said lunch tub and return with super hero speed.

I am frantically bending over, grabbing and passing out lunch boxes...
when I hear a muffled, "Ouch, OUCH, MRS. H, Ouch!" as I walk away.
I glance behind me only to realize that one of my students has her hair caught in the button on my back pocket.
My. butt. pocket. button.

ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME?!!!
Seriously. She is attached to the pocket on my backside.
Awesome.

I hectically untangle her hair from my button, throw the last couple lunch boxes at kids...I mean to kids and rush the class out the door as I try and smooth chicka's hair over.

Nice.

I smile and wave good bye to the last of my students,

return to my room and collapse at my kidney table.

Jess says, "So cut all the buttons off your pockets."

Thanks, sis.