fancy pants

"you look fancy today," michael says to me out of the blue.
"i do?  why, because i'm wearing lipstick?"
"no, because you're wearing make-up."

the fairies

(friday was stellar in terms of collecting stories for this blog.)

i just started working at this afterschool program about two weeks ago and already i thoroughly enjoy the kids.  friday i was placed with the kindergarten and nursery groups instead of my usual students because they had parent/teacher conferences.  shortly after introducing myself to the new batch of kids they voted to stay inside rather than visit the playground.  (kind of an odd decision for kindergartners if you ask me, but i digress.)

a handful announced that they were going to draw and so i joined them.  (growing up i was always the kid coloring during the afterschool program.  my folks knew right where to find me when they came to pick me up.  i was at the cafeteria table with an ice cream bucket full of crayons and a ream of paper next to me.)  i felt right at home coloring and focused on my drawing as i listened to the conversation going on around me.

"my friend's mom is going to turn me into a fairy on tuesday" abe bragged.
"me too!" his three year old sister hannah added.
"no way, that's not possible," retorted daisy
"why not?" he shot back.
"do you see this, and this, and this?  those are fairy kisses.  i've been kissed by a fairy.  ...in fact, i'm half fairy" said daisy, "you can't just turn someone into a fairy and i would know since i'm half."
abe was getting indignant, "you can too!  i'm part fairy already too."

snottily daisy said, "no you aren't, prove it.  do something that a fairy could do."
"i'm not allowed to do magic at school, my mom said" was abe's reply.
"how would she know?" daisy interjected.
abe's story got richer and richer, "well, i already accidentally did it once.  remember when i was wrestling with amin that one day?  i made a rubber band fly out of his ear."
zetta backed up his claim, "yea, i'm in his class.  i saw it!"
"so, that proves my point, do some magic here right now" daisy continued arguing.
"maybe after i get turned into a full fairy on tuesday."
"i still don't believe you're going to be turned into a fairy."

as the conversation disintegrated into an "uh-huh" versus "nuh-uh" back-and-forth my co-worker savannah sat down at the coloring table.  i told her with a smile, "wow, you are joining us in the middle of a very entertaining debate!"  her eyebrows raised, "oh?"

i interrupted the kindergartners' conversation in an effort to stop the arguing.  i piped in but briefly, "well, i guess we'll just have to wait until tuesday to see if abe gets turned into a fairy!"
"yea, i guess you'll just have to wait and see" affirmed hannah with a knowing tone.
"i know i can turn into a fairy because aliyahnah's dad turned into one!" was abe's argument clincher.

savannah and i both miserably failed at stifling our laughs at abe's last statement.  ...i swear, from the mouths of babes ...comes the most hilarious s#!t.

just a note

i write about kids because they are the focus of my profession.  maternal though i may be, teaching to me is about human development and child psychology.  that is what interests me the most.

please do not mistake me as a woman who is dying to start popping out babies.  (a guy i know read this and made a comment along those lines, missing my point completely.)  that is so far from the truth.

if i cannot appreciate children for their innocence and belief in the unknown, then i won't be a worthwhile teacher.

the cutest little boy ever

my favorite teaching-related story occurred years ago now when i was a substitute teacher in minneapolis.  it was a great day, beautiful and summery outside.  the school i was working at was within walking distance of my apartment.    the class was an early childhood special education classroom that i had subbed in before.  i knew the kids and it was a fun group.  (there was this four year old in the other class who made crazy faces and bit people randomly though.  he was a scary little dude who enjoyed hurting his classmates.  he was not so much fun.)

near the end of the day both preschool classes decided to take advantage of the glorious weather by going outside to the playground.  i walked out holding the hand of a little boy who was on the small side of four years old.  i cannot remember his name, but his round head seemed a wee bit too big for his body.  he also had large brown eyes with lashes i envied.  we walked slow as i kept pace with his short little legs.  (i didn't mind since "the biter" was in front of us.)  we quietly walked across the playground smiling at each other from time to time.  the solar system had been painted on the blacktop and as we walked over a planet i would say "now we're walking on neptune!" or "look, that's one of jupiter's moons!"  he never said anything and eventually i got distracted by watching the other kids on the playground as we neared it.

then, all of a sudden, i hear "ow, ow, ow!"  i panic, "are you okay?!"  "ow, ow, ow!"  "what's the matter?"  "ow, ow!  look!  we're walking on the sun!  it's burning my feet!"  it took a moment for it to sink in.

i looked down, and sure enough we were standing there on top of the star known as our sun.  he was right.

i let go of his hand and he gleefully ran off towards the jungle gym.

"did you know...

... you're like really pale?" the equally pale ginger boy told me today.  "gee emmett, thanks.  yes, in fact, i have some make-up where the color just reads 'white.'"

amelia's a fast runner

(we're pushing really hard to get amelia to eat breakfast.  we've tried different tactics.  the sticker reward system bottomed out after only a week.  negotiating puts the power in the child's hand, and so we're trying a more scientific approach.)

when i arrived this morning amelia had not woken up yet.  once she did, dad brought down the groggy, tow-headed two year old girl.  she was clad in pink pajamas that were spotted with purple unicorns.  they hung off of her small frame.  "look who's here amelia!"  she saw me and smiled a toothy grin without dropping her pacifier.  after dad set her on the ground and went to go fix her breakfast, amelia went into a quick recount of something i couldn't understand (the pacifier still firmly gripped between her lips).  "ah wuff rnnning... an larkin, an ...fssssstt!"

i looked to her dad to translate, "oh yea, she and larken were running around last night racing each other.  it was hilarious."

"i run really fast!"
"yes, you do amelia!" i said.

the conversation continued as amelia, dad, and i each enjoyed a bowl of cereal, us at the dining room table and her from her highchair.  (we have been consciously modeling healthy eating habits.)  "amelia, do you know what would make you an EVEN FASTER runner?" i asked.  she shook her head and exclaimed again, "i run really fast!"  it was hard not to smile back at the genuine pride that exuded from her proud grin.  "i know you do!"

ben, the dad, piped up, "show her what you showed us last night, what helps you run so fast."  i knew this was a joke set-up of some sort based on the tone in his voice.  i turned to amelia in mock amazement, "what helps you go super fast?  can you show me?"  she nodded, set down her spoon and from her highchair moved her arms back and forth as fast as her little limbs could go.  her elbows pumped forward and back, forward and back.

ben snickered behind his spoonful of cereal and i uttered "oh wow!  look at you go!  i'm sure that DOES make you go SUPER fast!  but do you want to know what will make you go EVEN FASTER than using your arms like that?  a good breakfast!"

amelia stopped moving her arms, cocked her head to one side and looked at me in disbelief.

"it's true!  amelia, food gives us energy!  it gives us the energy we need to run SOOOOO FAST and play all day.  if you ate a good breakfast, you'd get lots of energy and run EVEN FASTER!"

you could tell she didn't buy it.

she changed the topic.  she spilled out her blueberries and used the bowl as a phone, "aunt stephanie?"

everybody poops

as i said "good morning" to amelia i got a heavy waft from her very full diaper.  realizing it was a rhetorical question i still asked, "amelia, do you need me to change your diaper?"  "no."  "well, guess what amelia, i'm going to have to change your diaper before we can do anything today."  her unaffected "okay" was accompanied by two outstretched arms as she looked for me to pick her up and carry her to the changing table.  my first thought was "grrrreat... i'm going to carry a toddler with loaded underpants.  god please don't let it leak on me."

while i held her i tried my best to slant her bottom away from me and quickly sashayed to the bathroom.  setting her down gently, i began the type of conversation you can only have with a two year old.

"wow amelia, that was a very good poop in your diaper!"  (a relevant comment as we are worried about her eating so little.)

amelia looks at me, no response.

so i continue, "amelia, did you know that everybody poops?"  her large eyes widen further as she repeats what i just said, "everybody poops?"  "yup, everybody poops!  amelia poops, i poop, daddy poops, mommy poops, kitty poops, and larken (the dog) poops too -- outside!"

her face seemed to say, "wait, hold the phone... you just blew my mind."

"so, amelia poops (she refers to herself in third person), you poop, mommy poops, daddy poops, kitty poops, and larken poops outside?!"  "you got it!" i exclaimed.

the light bulb had clearly turned on after my final expression of confirmation, and i stifled a chuckle.

not too cool for school

the first day of a new job and i'm standing outside on a playground.  a fourth grade girl, whose name i don't know, tightrope walks her way on over to me making sure to place each foot carefully in front of the other on the beam that outlines the wood chips.  as she approaches me i have my phone out to check the time.  "remember, you have to go meet the other group at 2:10 p.m." says my inner monologue.

"is that your phone?" she asks with an air of incredulity.  "why yes it is," I answer matter-of-factly as it had just been in my hands and I had just been using it.

"both of my parents have an iphone 4S.  why don't you have an iphone?"

"i don't have an iphone because i am poor as fuck" i think to myself, but out of my mouth i offer a little white lie, "oh no, i don't trust myself with expensive phones.  i'd break it."  (it's a half-truth.)

"oh, ...your phone is weird" and as she makes a face of slight disgust i pull one of my own.  the theatrics were a bit over the top, i must admit, but i pouted with a quivering bottom lip, my eyes welling up with tears.  following a pregnant pause i whimpered out, "you hurt my phone's feelings."

it seemed i may have pulled one over on her as her face softened, until i turned my frown upside down and gave her a wicked smirk.  she grinned and the snottiness passed.

for the love of stickers

i told the inexperienced parents, "you know, a sticker reward system might work for amelia, but sometimes the shine of a new sticker can dull rather quickly.  it's worth a try though."

a few days later:

sara says excitedly, "amelia, we're going to start a new thing.  every time you finish all of your breakfast you'll get a sticker because we want you to eat enough to grow big and strong!  would you like to earn stickers?"  "uh-huh," says amelia.  as mom leaves the room she overhears amelia talking to herself, "don't worry, we're going to get those stickers!"

amelia

the underweight two and a half year old amelia is topped off with blond curls and a constant expression of inquiry.  she has a few interests, one is in clothing accessories; mainly shoes and hats.  her favorite hat is a knit chicken hat.  every time she puts it on, she does a little chicken dance bobbing her head.  this past weekend her new "hat" was her father's old swimming cap, which she found on the basement floor.  she doesn't *quite* know how to put it on and so it sits half-way down her head, puffing out on top.  she insisted on wearing her new hat the entire afternoon much to my delight.