The Little Things

As I sit down to write this, I feel overwhelmed at where to begin. I am considering this though . . . the importance of the little things.

To me, it seems very minor whether or not I tie every child's shoes or have time to hear all their stories. What matters is getting to specials on time. What matters is getting them on the right bus. What matters is making sure they learn their letters and sounds.

Or does it really?

This week was longer than most. My class seemed to have this uncontainable energy. They were loud and more difficult to manage than normal. By the end of the week, I was more than ready for Friday.

I could not remember how old I was.

I found I had written "fart chart" on my lesson plans and could not figure out why.

I was calling my kids by the wrong names.

In addition to the long week, I was frustrated with how to engage some of my students in learning or behaving better. I have been at a loss as to how to make one student pay attention and stop playing around. Another student has become increasingly frustrating since they talk and play when they are supposed to be the model student that their grades reflect. Another student who used to be defiant and rebellious now is no longer on my list of stinkers, medication makes them sleepy.

On Friday I found a parent note about the first student. This parent apologized for lack of involvement because of going through a divorce.

On Friday, my second student wrote a note to their parent during our writing time. They wrote: Dear ______, I hope you feel better. This parent they wrote to is struggling for life itself.

On Friday, I received a communication about my third student. They must be protected against an unsafe family member.

Stability and the definition of a rightly functioning family is null and void from the lives of too many of my kindergartners who spend their days being juggled back and forth between their mom's, dad's, and grandparent's houses.

I realize that maybe the little things are much more important than I stupidly thought. Their childish stories need to be heard. Their shoes need to be tied. Their dirty faces need to be wiped. Their unruly hair needs to be pulled back. They need to know that Mrs. Bauer has time, and love, for them and every little thing about them. They need to see Christ's love in me.

Time for little things, the little ones, matters more than keeping schedules or improving test scores.

Sawyer Has Learned Me a Lesson

One minute Sawyer is defiant about doing his work. He will pretend that he cannot write a sentence, even though I have convienently written it on three different dry erase boards in the room.

The next minute he is hugging me, asking me if I am proud of his work. (The work which I have had to continuously encourage him to do so that it can be put on the best work wall.)

Sawyer has learned me a lesson.

I cannot push him. He needs space to make his decisions. He is a child who must have choices. "You can do your work, or lose five minutes of recess." "You have ten seconds to decide if you want to sit where you are supposed to, or you can change your color." He needs encouragement. He needs a quiet undistracting space. He needs to know that he can make his own choices. Now when he pretends that he can't do his work, I laugh and say "Sawyer, really?" And he laughs back glad to know he is loved. I think he is glad to know that I expect much of him.

I am likely one of the most important people in his life. He spends his entire day in my classroom. He has no father figure in his life, since he passed away a year or two ago. I don't know about his mother. It seems that she might let him rule the roost with his rebelliousness.

Recently Sawyer got his birthday pencil for being six. Six years old and full of affection, intelligence, curiousity, tenacity . . . and loveableness.

Sawyer and the Pumpkin Squares

We were doing a lesson on following pictoral directions. The kids were delighted that we were making Pumpkin Squares. Graham crackers, icing, and pumpkin spice--these were tasty ingredients. Each group lined up at my big desk and pushed their paper plates down the assembly line. Several of them spent more time at the icing area, making sure that they had "enough" icing in between their graham crackers.

When Sawyer reached this part of the line, he smeared the icing onto his graham cracker. Then to make sure he got everything, he opened his mouth wide and proceeded to put the whole spreader in his mouth.

"SAWYER, STOP!" His eyes got wide as he realized my horror and what he was about to do. (Even though it really was the most logical and natural thing to do with icing.) He stuck the almost germified knife back in the icing and burst out in tears. He could not stop crying for several minutes. My tough stubborn little Sawyer hugged me and cried and cried. He didn't even want his Pumpkin Square.

I guess he was afraid of disappointing me, even though he will fight about simple things like sitting with all of the other children on the rug or doing his work.

Sawyer and the Pencil Stealer

Across the room I saw Sawyer and our new student fighting over a pencil. (Pencil ownership is a serious business in kindergarten, as is your spot in line, and whether or not you get to play at recess.) I will write about her later. Let me just say that when she is bad, which is most of the time, she is very bad.

The pencil situation was escalating and the sought after pencil was getting dangerously close to their little eyes. I called Sawyer to come quickly. I shouted his name across the room to get his attention. He reluctantly stopped fighting and came up to me.

I explained to him that getting in someone's face and yelling for your pencil back will make things worse. It will not help. I explained that our new student did not know how to behave in our room yet and he had to be patient. So, next time that happens, I told him, you come and tell me, or you ask for your pencil back nicely. He said he understood.

I watched as he made his way back to the the pencil stealer. "Can I please have my pencil back?" She gave it to him! I called his name across the room. Sawyer, did it work? I smiled and he smiled back and nodded his head. Yes it did.

Lesson Learned.

Sawyer Stories

My kids have finally queited down and are sitting around on the rug. We are ready to begin our lesson. The door flies open and Sawyer bursts in. "MRS BAUER I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU." Sawyer--not now we are starting our lesson. But can a kindergartener wait? No, waiting is one of the most difficult things they can endure. Sawyer proceeds to show me something tucked away in his backpack. His eyes are bright and his grin is big.

It is a crumpled, empty, soda can.

To me it is trash, to him it is a wondrous thing.

Tom Sawyer

Today I was thinking about some of the children in my class and how I love them. There is a little Tom Sawyer boy in particular. He has blonde hair, twinkling blue eyes, and freckles all over his nose and cheeks.

Sawyer is not a calm child, he reacts to situations with very strong emotions. He is loud, stubborn, and defensive. He gets distracted, complains about doing work, and pretends like he doesn't know how to do things.

But I love him.

He is a real boy, one of the true old-fashioned boy's boys of yester years.

Maybe you will understand better if I tell you some of his stories.