And They Pay Me, Too
Sunday
As a teenager, I was in great demand as a babysitter. As a waitress, I couldn’t carry coffee and was a bit flitter-headed. I worked piecework in a shoe shop. Mindless work is not as bad as most people think. There is something Zen-like about using your hands and letting your mind drift. Over forty hours a week, however, the mind drifting becomes mind numbing. As an Early Childhood Education Technician, I think I’ve found my fit. It fills the void in me that needs children and grandchildren. I’m valued as an asset to the classroom. The children know me as the other teacher in the room. I feel I make a difference, if not in their lives, then in their day.
Monday
He hasn’t had his meds. That’s obvious. And the teacher is leaving for the afternoon. He can’t stop talking, can’t keep his hands to himself. We need to call his mother, but that’s not my job. I gently take his arms and place him in his seat. I say, “I’m going to ask you to sit in your seat. I’m going to ask you to do that a lot today. Not because you’re bad. You’re being as good as you can be. I’m just going to help you. You can take your chair to story time.” He earnestly peers into my face, eyes big behind his glasses and quietly says, “Thank you Mrs. Linda.”
Tuesday
“I used her chapstick and now the guys are telling me I’m a girl.”
“ How many days this year did we talk about germs and not sharing chapstick?”
“It’s O.K. it’s not germy. I wiped it off.”
From another corner, “Haven’t you heard about the Wine Flu?”
Wednesday
I am in my chair taking a quiet breath. On my left, the teacher and the reading specialist are having a slightly heated discussion about the writing rubric. I contribute some to the conversation, while to my right controlled chaos reigns. Two little girls come to give me a hug. One hops away to join the chaos, but the littlest one stays. I feel her feet slide up into my lap as she curls up and begins to rock me. We enjoy a quiet minute until the controlled chaos becomes a mob scene and we have to rejoin the real world.
Thursday
Love recess duty. Love the playground that businesses in town bought for our children. They love it too. Scare me by climbing too high, but I love watching them run and scream and play. But that didn’t happen today. Today was the dreaded indoor recess.
Open the door between the rooms and let them start dragging out toys and blocks
Indoor bowling with plastic bowling balls and pins
One hundred matchbox cars
Two hundred blocks
Little dinosaurs and teddy bears
Plastic medical equipment
Stay out of the loft, that’s for reading
Thank God it’s time to ring the bell. They have been dragging stuff out for twenty-five minutes. They’ll put it away, all exactly in the right place in five minutes.
Friday
Friday assembly. The entire school all meeting in the gym. All the children sitting on the floor by grade level. All the teachers sitting in chairs behind them, close enough to hiss a name, use a repertoire of facial expressions or get to them quickly if those things don’t work. Oddly enough the boys are paying polite attention. The girls, however, are fighting over a bag of lip-gloss that one of them has sneaked by the teacher. I creep forward to kindly confiscate it and remind them about being a good audience. It doesn’t do much good. Here comes one to tattle.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Theme week 15 Juxtaposition
Sister friends and Friend sisters
The friend that is hard to get to know, but in the end is worth it.
The friend that will cry with me when I need it and the other one that will make me laugh over the same situation.
The baby sister, ten years younger, now age matters less, now friends.
The one that you really have to get to know to understand what a good friend she is.
The sister that is in little contact, but if I need her, she’ll be there. To make me a meal or clean my house.
The friends that are sisters because we share the bond of the pink t-shirt at the Komen Race.
The sister that will join me in that pink shirt this year.
The friend that sent her a card with a picture of us at last year’s race with a caption, “I’ll have another Pink Lady please.”
The sister that we think is weak and wishy-washy. She may the strongest of us all. A core of steel. Living her life just the way she needs to.
Friends who sat beside me in Kindergarten. Still friends today.
The sister that moved very far away for a very long time, but never really left me.
The friends that meet once a week for breakfast. Can’t explain why it is so important, but it is.
The friend that meets me at the end of the hall for bus duty and debriefing about our day.
The friend that teaches beside me daily and can drive me crazy, but still loves me when I go over the edge.
All my sister friends and friend sisters that know me so well and still love me. At my worst and at my best. When I’m lovable and when I’m not. They are like Marcus Pfister’s Rainbow Fish. They have all given me one of their shiny scales.
Theme week 15, Juxtaposition II
Cancer, Out The Other Side
No such thing as a bad day. If it’s not Chemo, it’s not a bad day.
Learn what is a big deal. If it’s not cancer, it’s probably not a big deal.
I’ll never complain about my hair again. O.K. That one didn’t last, but it seemed like a good idea.
Love being a strong, healthy ray of hope to others who are starting the process.
Never take energy and strength for granted.
Decide what I really want to do in my life. Do not waste my time doing what I do not want to do.
How can people hate birthdays? Birthdays are to be really celebrated.
Can I say I’m glad I had cancer? No, but I can say I’m glad I’m a survivor.
The friend that is hard to get to know, but in the end is worth it.
The friend that will cry with me when I need it and the other one that will make me laugh over the same situation.
The baby sister, ten years younger, now age matters less, now friends.
The one that you really have to get to know to understand what a good friend she is.
The sister that is in little contact, but if I need her, she’ll be there. To make me a meal or clean my house.
The friends that are sisters because we share the bond of the pink t-shirt at the Komen Race.
The sister that will join me in that pink shirt this year.
The friend that sent her a card with a picture of us at last year’s race with a caption, “I’ll have another Pink Lady please.”
The sister that we think is weak and wishy-washy. She may the strongest of us all. A core of steel. Living her life just the way she needs to.
Friends who sat beside me in Kindergarten. Still friends today.
The sister that moved very far away for a very long time, but never really left me.
The friends that meet once a week for breakfast. Can’t explain why it is so important, but it is.
The friend that meets me at the end of the hall for bus duty and debriefing about our day.
The friend that teaches beside me daily and can drive me crazy, but still loves me when I go over the edge.
All my sister friends and friend sisters that know me so well and still love me. At my worst and at my best. When I’m lovable and when I’m not. They are like Marcus Pfister’s Rainbow Fish. They have all given me one of their shiny scales.
Theme week 15, Juxtaposition II
Cancer, Out The Other Side
No such thing as a bad day. If it’s not Chemo, it’s not a bad day.
Learn what is a big deal. If it’s not cancer, it’s probably not a big deal.
I’ll never complain about my hair again. O.K. That one didn’t last, but it seemed like a good idea.
Love being a strong, healthy ray of hope to others who are starting the process.
Never take energy and strength for granted.
Decide what I really want to do in my life. Do not waste my time doing what I do not want to do.
How can people hate birthdays? Birthdays are to be really celebrated.
Can I say I’m glad I had cancer? No, but I can say I’m glad I’m a survivor.
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