Procedures and Protocols and Best Practices

Under state licensing and company guidelines, I have a ton of rules I must follow.

I always tell the kids that I have to know all their rules AND all mine.
And that it's a lot.

That's not an exaggeration.

But most of the time, I just follow the rules without involving the kids. They all think they're just there, having fun and playing. Which of course they are. But under it all, that foundation of doing things right.

If I do it the way I should, they aren't actually aware of all my rules... just theirs.

I give them a safe space to be who they are, fill it with fun projects, toys, music, games and silly jokes and then I make sure nothing bad happens to them. I do nag a little about safety rules, and I'm nothing if not consistent. That aggravates a few of them (Mario, for example) but it doesn't matter. They don't have to like me or agree with my rules, they just have to follow them.

I try to issue reminders and let them figure out boundaries as much as possible. Kids are smart and most of them don't like getting hurt or seeing their friends get hurt.

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When they all come streaming in at the end of the day, it's hectic.
They're tossing their backpacks into baskets, greeting each other, going for favorite toys, asking me what's for snack and for specialty supplies that are in cabinets (googly eyes, origami paper, sketch paper) and generally being noisy and goofy and busy, like a bunch of kids who've just been let loose.

I answer all their requests with the same, "As soon as all of you are checked in I will help you."

I have a grid form with their names and time/date. Each child is signed in at the time they show up and I sign my name next to the time. I also have a notebook on my clipboard that I write each name on. I carry that list with me when we go to the playground or if we leave our area. That way I know who's with me without having to look them up. I cross them off my list as they go home. A running record, I guess.

If an expected child does not show up, I need to find out why.

The teacher who brings the kids to me from the pickup area has a list of my kids as well. So when she showed up Wednesday without Max, we were both concerned.

Max started in my program on Monday, so he hasn't been with me long. Certainly not enough to know the routine. He's a 1st grader, too, meaning that he's still pretty little.

I called his mother Monday morning to verify that he was to come to me after school and that he was to attend five days a week.

We discussed that if he was not going to be there for some reason, that she should either text or call me and let me know. "I'm not part of the school, so they don't notify me when a child is absent. If a kid is missing, I have to find out where they are in the middle of trying to get all the other kids checked in and the busy-ness that goes on after school."

She understood. When she came to pick him up on Monday night, even though we had talked on the phone and she continued the conversation we'd had, I still asked her for ID. Yeah, I know, who else is going to show up and pick up her kid? Doesn't matter, I ID everyone until I know them.

I also tell them they may be asked again, and that if I am ever absent and the sub doesn't ask them for ID, I want to be notified.

As usual, she appreciated my asking for her ID. I have had one or two parents over the years get a little pissy about it, but that's okay. Not my problem. Don't want the inconvenience of going 'alllll the way back' to your car? It's going to be more inconvenient when I won't let you take a child out of my program.

Okay, so no Max. The teacher who brings them to me from the pickup area on the playground went back outside to see if he was there and she had just missed him. But Emma said, in a tone that sounded like she was tired of repeating it, "Max got on the bus! I saw him!!"

I called the school office.
"Hey this is Susan at the (insert name of day care here). I do not have Max, and he is supposed to be here."

"Yeah," she said. "We're on it. He is being taken from the bus and brought to you now. Not sure how he ended up on the bus, but we have him."

Kenna (the teacher who gathers my group from the playground) brought Max to my back door about 10 minutes later. Max's cheeks were wet with tears and his little chest was hitching. Kenna stopped him next to me and said, "Max was very smart. He knew he wasn't supposed to be on the bus. He kept telling everyone that he doesn't ride the bus anymore, but unfortunately the adults around him were not listening."

She reached for the box of tissues on my table and handed him a couple.

"Thank you so much for bringing him here," I told her.
And to him, I  said, "Max, you can sit here with me until you feel like playing if you'd like to."

He looked at me with tragic big brown eyes and tears spilled over again.

"Why wouldn't they listen to me?" he lamented. "Why? I am smart! I know what I am supposed to do after school!"


His little heart was broken because the adults hadn't listened to him. His feelings were so hurt that he lost his composure and melted down and they still didn't listen.

It was the injustice of it that got the little guy.
I was angry on his behalf, too.

One of the bus monitors came to our classroom about 15 minutes later to make sure Max had gotten to us, but she wasn't the one who had refused to listen to him.

He got through the rest of the afternoon and seemed to be recovering from his upset okay. I kept an eye on him. Poor kid.

When his mother came to pick him up, I told her what had happened. That he had insisted to the adults that he was to come to my program and that they had not listened to him.

I told her that I always know when a child is supposed to be with me and that I won't stop until I figure it out when they're not.

She thanked me and told him how smart he was for continuing to tell the adults where he was supposed to be.

I am hoping it doesn't happen again, but those rules that are always in place will protect the kid if it does. And that's one of the reasons why we have so many rules.