Well that kid is exhausting....

I wasn't allowed to talk about my program at the 'connect to K' event they held at my school in the spring, as the decision had been made by the school district to toss my program out in favor of those nasty pieces of crap I worked for.

I have never been in this with the intention of getting rich, but what they paid me wasn't nearly enough to put up with them. You all know about them if you've been here awhile. Very glad I no longer work for them.

So the fact that I have even one K kid is due to Stevie's mom.
Stevie was in a home daycare for five years before starting school and Terra was in the same daycare. Stevie spent summer there, and his little brother Nicholas is still there.

When school was about to start this fall, Terra's parents had decided to sign her up for Morally Bankrupt Daycare. Of course MBDC was allowed to talk to parents at that event. They're good at talking. They have lots of shiny advertising brochures, they have a customer 'service' hotline, and they promise to 'help kids succeed in school'.

Because school is VERY IMPORTANT, you know.
Why, if your child isn't in a cookie-cutter environment nearly every waking hour, they may as well just learn how to make hamburgers or do laundry, they'll never be qualified for anything else.

Terra's parents and Stevie's mom were discussing daycare and when they told her they were signing Terra up to attend MBDC, she said, "No!! Don't do that, you want her with Susan!"

I don't know what she told them about me, but I ended up with Terra in my little group.

She's a tiny little thing, just turned 5. Very cute.
Has the attention span of a cheerio. Flutters around the room like a cheerful butterfly, touching everything.

At approximate half-hour intervals, she stops what she's doing, looks surprised and says, "I have to go potty!"

I've been taking her into the hallway where I can stand and observe the bathroom door and our little room at the same time. The bathroom door is heavy, so when she's finished, she says, "Help  me!" in her squeaky little voice and I help her open the door.

I have been working on the reminder that, "We do not lock the door, " because there's no way she can unlock it from the inside and I don't have a key. Wouldn't that be fun? Geez. She tried to lock it this afternoon and I said, "Terra. Do not lock the door please."

She cheerfully said, "Okay. Miss Susan?"

"What?"

"I wuv you."

She is very affectionate, I think she's told everyone, "I love you," five times apiece. (She says it to me at least three times a day... I tell her, "That is so sweet!"

It's adorable, but when you're a 2nd grade boy, instead of going, "Aww," you say, "Eww!" instead. And then the rest of the gang polarizes, half of them think it's adorable and the other half think it's the funniest/most disgusting and gross thing ever.

Mass hysteria.

She hasn't learned one of our most basic rules so far, if it's not yours, don't touch it. Simple and easy to remember. But sometimes it takes time for a kid to catch on, especially a little one. So she annoys the other kids because of her lack of respect for their boundaries.

The cry of, "Hey!" means I'm taking care of little altercations all afternoon. She's just sweetly clueless. It's funny, but she needs to learn because she can't go around pissing everyone off, either.
She also hasn't learned how to clean up as she goes, running around getting out games, dolls, dramatic play items, the dollhouse, LEGO, little pieces of paper at the art table, markers, scissors... a little whirlwind of carnage.

The scissors are particularly interesting, because she isn't able to hold them correctly. So any cutting she does just shreds paper. And little scraps end up all over the art table and on the floor. Since, "The scissors didn't work!" she gets another pair. And another. Funny. "I think all your scissors are broken," she says. Then she wanders off and makes another mess somewhere else.

I work all afternoon to help her remember to clean up one area before getting more toys out.

She doesn't like being told no. I'm pretty sure her adults don't tell her that at all.

So when her dad comes to pick her up, she runs to get her backpack, leaving behind whatever mess she's made, usually the dollhouse and the furniture.

I gently remind her, "Terra, you'll need to put the dolls away before you leave."

She puts on a pouty face, makes a fake little crying sound , "Uh heh uh heh," in a squeaky little voice and acts like I'm not speaking her language. You can see her dad start to melt into a puddle. It's humorous, but I don't laugh.

"Terra, if you're not able to pick up your toys when your dad comes to get you, then I will ask you not to play with them the next time you're here. It isn't fair for other people to have to clean up after you when you're the one who made the mess."

The first day, she wasn't sure if I was serious. When I told her, "Here, put the dolls in the jar and I'll help you with the furniture," she decided that I might mean what I said.

It got put away, but she has tried to leave without cleaning up every afternoon.

I don't think it will be long before she understands, she's a smart little kid. And truly adorable. But she IS a lot of work.

I can't imagine trying to teach a class full of kids that age.
One more reason I'd never want to be a classroom teacher.