Gotta love 'em...because the pay sure isn't that awe-inspiring...
Sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or to scream...
Part of a conversation from my first grade classroom yesterday, at the end of a VERY LONG day (done, until the very end, in my quiet 'trying not to *sound* mad while actually *being* mad ' voice):
* * * * * * * * * *
Me: S (a girl), please get to work.
S: (sits and talks to her neighbor and does nothing.)
Me: S, it says "This is a picture of my teacher". You need to find a crayon and get going on your picture. P (a boy), you need to get your crayons out and start DRAWING. (P chews on his pencil eraser and stares into space.)
S: (continues talking)
Me: S! GET TO WORK!
S: But I can't draw all of you. Can I just do your face?
Me: YES. You may draw me any way you'd like. Just DRAW ME.
S: Do I have to do your earrings? They're hard to do.
Me: NO. You may make me wearing whatever you'd like. Just DRAW ME.
S: Do I have to draw your...
Me: S! You need to draw someone who looks like me. Your person needs to have yellow hair, blue eyes, and glasses. Do the best you can.
S: (give me THE LOOK, picks up a crayon, continues talking to the boy next to her, but starts to draw.)
Me: P, pick a crayon and start your picture, please. You're drawing a picture of me. Get a yellow for my hair or blue for my eyes and start drawing.
P: I need peach to do your skin.
Me: (gritting teeth, clenching fists, praying for patience) Then FIND your peach and START WORKING.
P: I don't have peach.
Me: Then ask a neighbor nicely if you can borrow theirs.
S: (from across room) YOU CAN BORROW MINE!!!! [because this girl, I SWEAR, has no voice other than LOUD.]
Me: S!!!!! Just do your own work, please.
S: But...
Me: (in a LOUD voice that is NOT my usual quiet, 'I'm trying to be understanding' voice) DO. YOUR. OWN. WORK.
P: (looking at me as he FINALLY starts to make a peach circle on the paper) NOW I'm going to make you with a MAD face.
* * * * * * * * * *
OMG. I could have burst out lauging right then and there. I was so UPSET with S for her continued interruptions (which happen about 59 minutes out of every hour), and frazzled with trying to field P's constant questions and keep him on track (when he's off task probably 59 minutes out of every hour). But I *know* he didn't mean his comment beligerently. He was just letting me know that he'd finally gotten around to drawing me and, just my luck, NOW I was yelling...so, oh well, I'd be stuck being drawn with my mad face on. :) And true to his word, there I was on his paper, with a zig-zaggy mouth that looked like a scary face you'd find carved on a jack-o-lantern.
Sometimes it's laugh or scream, and I've just laughed myself silly about this one. It certainly puts ones moods into perspective. Especially when one has sixteen six year olds sitting and *watching* one's moods... The next time I have my 'mad face' on, I'll be thinking of P. :)
Part of a conversation from my first grade classroom yesterday, at the end of a VERY LONG day (done, until the very end, in my quiet 'trying not to *sound* mad while actually *being* mad ' voice):
* * * * * * * * * *
Me: S (a girl), please get to work.
S: (sits and talks to her neighbor and does nothing.)
Me: S, it says "This is a picture of my teacher". You need to find a crayon and get going on your picture. P (a boy), you need to get your crayons out and start DRAWING. (P chews on his pencil eraser and stares into space.)
S: (continues talking)
Me: S! GET TO WORK!
S: But I can't draw all of you. Can I just do your face?
Me: YES. You may draw me any way you'd like. Just DRAW ME.
S: Do I have to do your earrings? They're hard to do.
Me: NO. You may make me wearing whatever you'd like. Just DRAW ME.
S: Do I have to draw your...
Me: S! You need to draw someone who looks like me. Your person needs to have yellow hair, blue eyes, and glasses. Do the best you can.
S: (give me THE LOOK, picks up a crayon, continues talking to the boy next to her, but starts to draw.)
Me: P, pick a crayon and start your picture, please. You're drawing a picture of me. Get a yellow for my hair or blue for my eyes and start drawing.
P: I need peach to do your skin.
Me: (gritting teeth, clenching fists, praying for patience) Then FIND your peach and START WORKING.
P: I don't have peach.
Me: Then ask a neighbor nicely if you can borrow theirs.
S: (from across room) YOU CAN BORROW MINE!!!! [because this girl, I SWEAR, has no voice other than LOUD.]
Me: S!!!!! Just do your own work, please.
S: But...
Me: (in a LOUD voice that is NOT my usual quiet, 'I'm trying to be understanding' voice) DO. YOUR. OWN. WORK.
P: (looking at me as he FINALLY starts to make a peach circle on the paper) NOW I'm going to make you with a MAD face.
* * * * * * * * * *
OMG. I could have burst out lauging right then and there. I was so UPSET with S for her continued interruptions (which happen about 59 minutes out of every hour), and frazzled with trying to field P's constant questions and keep him on track (when he's off task probably 59 minutes out of every hour). But I *know* he didn't mean his comment beligerently. He was just letting me know that he'd finally gotten around to drawing me and, just my luck, NOW I was yelling...so, oh well, I'd be stuck being drawn with my mad face on. :) And true to his word, there I was on his paper, with a zig-zaggy mouth that looked like a scary face you'd find carved on a jack-o-lantern.
Sometimes it's laugh or scream, and I've just laughed myself silly about this one. It certainly puts ones moods into perspective. Especially when one has sixteen six year olds sitting and *watching* one's moods... The next time I have my 'mad face' on, I'll be thinking of P. :)