Okay I'm just tired!

It was parent/teacher conference week at my school. There was no school on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

I worked 6:15 to 10:15 and then 1:15 to 6:15. Made for some long days. I tired.

I planned a theme week for the kids, we learned about ocean life. For the three long days, I brought in a ton of extras, including a beach ball so large that you actually have to forcibly push it through the door frames. We played a game I invented with it, took it to the gym and with lengths of pool noodles, the kids chased it all over the place.

I bought a little spiked ball at the dollar store for making pictures. The fins are made from a bit of waxed paper. Photography poor, but I was in a hurry.

I know it's sideways. Tilt your head.

We watched a Bill Nye video about sea life. Made Cartesian divers, played with model magic, got out Bendaroos and scratch art and watercolor paints and crayon resist art and made little creatures out of seashells and laughed and read books and drew pictures with the Ed Emberley drawing books I brought in and had snacks and outdoor time and played with blocks and cups and LEGO and I'm pretty sure that I'm sorry now for asking to have my program held at my school because I'm old and although I usually work a split shift, I'd rather have full day programs work differently.

Maybe from 6:15 to noon, then a second person come in and do the second half of the day? Although I planned a lot of activities, and the kids enthusiastically participated in them, I'm not sure we did enough. They get on each other's nerves.

For example, the bathroom thing. Bathrooms are on the other side of the gym. I do not send a child alone, the bathrooms are near the outside exit, not within my line of sight and because of heating systems and pipes and other noises, not within earshot, either.

So when someone needs to go to the bathroom, we go to the gym as a group. I slap a magnetic sign with our phone number on the outside of the entry door in case a parent comes to pick up a child.

"Bathroom Break! Back in a flash! (123) 456-7890"

And we all stop what we're doing and go to the gym. The kids who don't need to go play tag or just run around while the one who does need the bathroom uses the facility.

We all go back to our program area. Usually within five to seven minutes, someone else needs to go. I once again remind all of them that, "Of course we will always go to the bathrooms if you need to go, but while we're in the gym, if you even think you might need to go, please try."

Because the other kids get pissed off at having to leave the activity and go to the gym over and over and over.

That's part of the crazy. :)

Another part of it is the mix of kids.

Billy can't be quiet, can't stop annoying everyone with clicking noises and loud voice and needs to be the center of attention ALL. THE. TIME. If I am having a conversation with another person, he will physically come over and push his way between us, loudly changing the subject.

When he's throwing toys or stealing someone's LEGO or trying to sneak over and knock down the cup tower or draw a line on someone's picture and I am trying to remind him, "We don't do that here," he will turn away, start talking to someone else or making clicking sounds or singing the same six or seven words tunelessly, over and over and over and over.

I stop him. Every time.
"Billy. Look at me, please."

I wait for eye contact. And I say, "While I am trying to explain something to you, it is polite for you to listen to me."

We're working on things.

I don't want to squash him. He may be blustery and annoying, but he's also little and needs nurture, not anger.

He is a child. He isn't annoying on purpose, at least not most of the time.
I would just like for him to be less in everyone's face and space. He's a nice little boy. He's cute. He loves his mama more than anything. He's smart and artistic and funny and clever. He's loud. He's active. He has the attention span of a Cheerio. No impulse control. He's not willfully aggravating, he really can't help it. He's six. The kid is just plain wired. I'm sure his mom is exhausted about 90% of the time.

I can't deny feeling impatience with him, it would be so much easier if he just did what I asked of him, but it's not that he doesn't want to... he just hasn't learned how yet.

I have Amelia, also aged 6, who wants to tell everyone else what to do. I'll announce that it's time to clean up, and she will go around reinforcing my instructions. "You guys!! It's time to clean that up!! Susan said!!"

I might tell Colin to stop poking his brother, and she will be right there, saying the same thing four seconds later. "Colin! You're not supposed to be doing that!"

And when someone doesn't follow the rules, she wants to let me know. When I had my three hour break on Thursday, Billy was a huge handful for the person who came in to hang out with the kids. She made sure to tell me about it. When it comes to following the rules she's just like a little child care provider. I gently remind her at least twice an hour, "Amelia, when you are 18 and you take over my job, then you can tell everyone else what to do. Until then, I'll handle things, okay?"

Colette, too. Colette is an only child. Last week, after I asked her to take turns with the zipline, she looked at me and said, "I have a mind of my own and I can do whatever I want."

Um, no. And yes.

"I'm glad you're able to think for yourself, Colette. And I want you to do that. But when thinking for yourself means that you're being disrespectful to the other kids, I won't allow you to be rude. If you can't share the zipline, you will not use the zipline."

She looked carefully at my face, decided I was serious and relinquished the handle to the next person.

Then there's Dane and Colin. The brothers. The dynamic duo. They get along pretty well, and Dane protects his little brother, but he's also the first one to try to piss him off. They share the responsibilities for that, really. They are great together most of the time, but sometimes they're just looking for ways to aggravate each other.

Some days I have to suggest strongly that both of them find another activity.

Dane is 10. Going on 20. He doesn't miss anything. He's perceptive and intelligent and very much aware of how things should be. He's unafraid to speak up and let someone know when they've crossed a line. Sometimes he doesn't choose his words carefully and pisses people off, but he's a good kid.

Colin is 8. It would be easy for him to get lost behind his brother's huge personality, but he is quirky, funny and equally intelligent. He thinks differently, but he thinks.

Now Colette and Amelia are friends, but Colette wants to be the boss. Amelia thinks that she should probably be the one in charge. They aggravate each other, get snippy and angry, I intervene, they figure it out and we start it over again. And again. And again.

When they're having an issue that I need to help them with, Billy invariably runs over and starts telling me about this one time that he went driving with his dad or the dog pooped on the carpet or he had cereal for breakfast just before he came in or he lost his coat or can you tie my shoe or look at the Bionicle I built!!!!

So that's the mix I had for the majority of the three days. On the first day, we had Alex. Alex is six, too. He and Billy spent the day building Bionicles and laughing and hanging out together.

Which made life easier for the rest of us.

Can you understand why I'm a little tired?
I was so tired that I couldn't sleep, actually.
Got up and wrote this.

Now maybe I'll be able to sleep a bit.
Sure hope so. Lots coming up this week.

How are you doing?