Theme week 16 Journaling

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.