Call me Senora Crabbypants part deux

I spend a great deal of time with children.

Much of that time is spent solving problems of a minor nature... "Lucas*! Come over here and let me tie your shoe for you before you crash, Buddy."

"The pencil sharpener is right here. Let me plug it in for you."

"What's for snack? Well, I don't know. Do I look like a snack menu?"

That always makes them laugh, and some of them, getting into the whole spirit of the thing answer back with things like, "Yes! You DO look like a snack menu!"

The snack menu for the whole month is posted on our family information table, and once reminded (some daily!!) all the kids need to do is go look at it. Once I've written the thing up, I promptly forget what's on it, it's just one more thing I do to reduce the enemy to a manageable level. :)

I cut a little slack to the ones who aren't reading yet, we walk over to it together, I say something about what the date is and point to the day on the snack menu and say the word as I follow it with my finger. One of those oft mentioned teachable moments.

When they first get out of school and wander down to the cafeteria en masse, it's a little hectic, more so since I lost Diana. She used to help sign them in, cross referencing our master list and always willing to call the office to track down a child who had not shown up but should have. She was familiar with the routine.

Now it's all on me. My new assistant, while competent and helpful, was just learning the children's names. And as of today, I have another new assistant. And we're starting from the beginning. Again.

So the little folding sign I made, 'Please come back after everyone is checked in!' with a little smiley face and some fancy sharpie-drawn edging gets put to use every afternoon and will get a workout the next couple weeks.

The kids are pretty good about respecting the sign, but I hate having to do it.

So many of them have things to share with me when they arrive at the end of the school day. So many exciting things happened, so much to look forward to in the evening or on the upcoming weekend.

And I have to make them wait until I'm sure all my kids are accounted for. Sometimes parents forget to let me know their son or daughter won't be there for the afternoon, and I have to scramble to find out why they haven't showed. The school holds the buses until all my kids are safe. Making sure all the kids are where they need to be has to be my first priority. They understand it, but I still don't like making them wait for my attention. It's one of the reasons I get there early in the afternoons, so that at least everything is set up and ready to go when they arrive.

Most of the parents are really good about letting me know when they have a schedule change. Occasionally someone forgets. I know they don't do it on purpose, they're just like me, running from here to there with barely enough time to stop and pee and they just... forget.

I have had school staff pull a child off the school bus and send them to me on more than one occasion. Most of the time, I'm right. Once in awhile, the child was supposed to be on that bus, and I inconvenience a parent by making them come pick up the kid they expected to step off the bus.

I always tell them that I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but that I'd rather inconvenience them than worry about the possible inconvenience to their seven year old daughter of going home to an empty house.

Without exception they thank me for taking such good care of their kids.

I tell them that they're my own kids four hours a day, and that I worry over every one of them. For some reason, all my parents appreciate that I'm taking care of their kids in every way possible. :)

Eric says I should just wear a shirt that says 'everyone's mom' on it.

I love the parental appreciation I get, really. They often stop to compliment me or to tell me something one of their children has said about our adventures in the afternoons.

One of my dads recently called our customer service line for help with his account and took the time to tell the operator that 'the site director you have at Excellent Elementary is outstanding. She is just amazing with the kids. My wife and I are so impressed.'

My manager passed that little tidbit on to me. Made my week. :)

I actually now have two families who are sending their children to my program solely because the kids want to be there. There is a parent home in the afternoon, and the children could just go home on the bus, but they'd rather come and hang out with their friends.

My ego isn't sufficiently large to believe it's because they want to be with me personally, but I know the things I've brought to the program and the atmosphere make it a safe and fun place for them to be, and it makes me feel good that kids are happy there.

Wow, I've wandered far, far away from the topic. I know that doesn't worry you, you read here because I do tangents. I know this.

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The way I ended up being Senora Crabbypants was sort of amusing.
At least to me.

First, Stevie* had been calling me Senora all afternoon, 'si Senora, no Senora, gracias Senora...' and regaling me with tales of his recent trip to visit relatives in another country where everyone speaks Spanish. He's a well-traveled young man, having visited eleven countries and Hawaii so far in his eight years.

We went to the gym after snack time, and the kids had free play time before we did our group game. I watched little Tommy* shooting baskets, and missing and running after the ball time after time. The ball would roll toward one person, and that person, seeing Tommy running toward them, would kick the damn ball halfway across the gym. We have a rule about not kicking balls in the gym for safety reasons and they all know it.

Another kid would grab the ball (don't be surprised when I tell you that most of the time it was Reese*) and either kick it or throw it to someone else, laughing as Tommy ran up to get the ball.

So I went over to talk to them about it. On my way over there, I saw Rachelle* and a couple other girls playing with a jump rope. It was tied to a bracket on one wall, and she was holding the other end, making it snake as the girls tried to jump over it. Okay in our rules until you do what Rachelle was doing, yank it upward as people are in the air, catching them by the feet and trying to make them fall.

And then I heard Robert* say to Evan*, "Why do you have to be so STUPID????" and I watched Evan walk away with his head down.

Well, that was it.

I blew the whistle. Said, "Okay, everyone put your equipment away and gather in the middle."

One does not tell a bunch of 9 and 10 year old boys to put away their balls... because they will make a dirty joke out of it, elbow each other in the ribs and in the best Beavis and Butthead tradition snort, "Balls. Heh heh, she said balls." The smaller kids will pick up on it, but won't understand the joke. And the bigger ones will be THRILLED to explain it if given the opportunity. I do not give them the opportunity.

So we had a discussion. I told them about the behaviors I'd observed, carefully leaving names out. I often do that, telling them in the beginning that I am not mentioning names on purpose, that who did it isn't important, it's only important that we recognize things that need to change.

And then I got crabby. I said, "You have all been here long enough to know that your behavior isn't okay, and I'm tired of telling you over and over. So here's what we're going to do. The next time I see someone running to get a ball they've dropped, and you're inconsiderate enough to kick it away from them, you will be finished playing in the gym for that afternoon. If you tell other people they are stupid or you're saying mean things that make someone feel bad, you can sit with me for the rest of our play time. If you are doing something that endangers the safety of another person, you will be asked not to play in the gym for the rest of that afternoon.

Now it's not as dire a punishment as it sounds, since our time in the gym is ordinarily about half an hour and sitting down for ten minutes or so isn't going to kill anyone.

So we played our group game. Everyone did okay with the attitude, they had a good time, and demonstrated good sportsmanship. As we lined up to go back to our room, Stevie said, "I was calling you Senora, but I think I should call you Senora MOM!"

And after I laughed, I said, "Let's go with Crabbypants. Because watching so many kids be crabby this afternoon has turned me crabby."

And upon being given license to call me Senora Crabbypants, most of them began doing so. For the rest of the afternoon. They thought it was hysterically funny. I find it pretty amusing, too. :-D

I predict that today I'll have at least one person sitting out in the gym after an infraction, because they will forget our discussion over the weekend. I won't predict which child it will be, but I'll bet you can guess who's most likely.

signing off, 
Senora Crabbypants