Yesterday I got a copy of this month's People Magazine in my post office box. It was supposed to go to a dentist with a box having almost the same number as ours. I am going to read it before I take it back in to the post office. Is that wrong? Is it also wrong that I'm letting my sister read it, too?
Last night at family dinner, my sweet daughter was in the Moose Room* at my parents' house and started calling for her cousin. "Abby, come here. Abby, come here." Abby was sweetly playing in the other room. So I went to see what Jules needed. "What are you doing?" I asked. She, looking very guilty, said quietly, "Going upstairs." WHAT!?!? You mean those same stairs that you have been forbidden to climb? Those stairs from which you have been removed numerous times and spanked for climbing? AND you are trying to get your poor, innocent cousin to do the very same thing? Oh. My. Goodness. I was so wrong and take back all the stuff I said about Abby getting Jules into trouble. All this time it was the other way around. Who knew? (Besides Abby and her mommy, of course.)
Now this next confession must stay between us. Promise? Okay. Teachers have favorites. It's true. And it's not always the sweetest kid or the cutest kid or the smartest kid. Sometimes it's the one who could drive a teetotaler to drink. But the fact is, we have favorites. And if you have kids, just always assume that your kid is the favorite. It's easier that way.
I did very little actual teaching today. We did puzzles, sang songs, played with blocks, and painted. And when the kids were painting I let them mix all the colors on their paper plates and paint with their hands. I realized too late that we forgot to put on paint shirts and didn't make them put them on even then. I just enjoyed watching my students play. They are only 4 and 5 years old after all. And we still have 32 weeks to learn how to read.
Today when my son was accused of something that I hoped he hadn't done but knew he was capable of, I switched instantly from kindergarten teacher to mama bear. I was able to hold it together to talk to all the parties involved and get to the bottom of things. Turned out it was all a misunderstanding. And hopefully a lesson was learned by everyone .
*The Moose Room is the sitting room in my parents' house that does, in fact, contain a moose. Well, at least from the neck up. And when there is a huge moose head in the room, it is obviously going to be called The Moose Room.