Royally Regal

Beauty in the day: got out all my skills today. I thought I was using them at elementary school – how about Irish twins, almost 2 and almost 3? How about it’s dinner time, and I’ve taken the drink away so that EATING will occur? You might have witnessed a Grandma dipping chicken nuggets into ketchup, and “oohing and ahhing” over the exciting prospect of eating such delectable fare ( he went for it, by the way). Well, I can tell you that Jaffrey learned Princess etiquette for all things, from requesting her crown to be returned from an inquisitive uncle, to eating ALL of her pterodactyl chicken nugget (because that’s what a real princess does), to waiting in a regal manner for her turn on the “Planes” riding toy that her brother was on. Bring on Prince Harry – she is Regal and Ready.

Thinking Outside of the Box

Beauty in the day: the AP calls down the hall to me as he rips up the top of a cardboard box: “Hey Kelly, what does this look like to you? I’ll tell you what it is. This is me ripping up this testing box that I will officially no longer need.” He was a happy guy. Later, I asked him why this other box top was laying near his office door. His answer was sheepish. “Yes, that. Well, in my haste, I thought better of ripping up this box as well, as I thought I might possibly, maybe, still need it.”
#pleaseletalltestingbefinallyover

Knowing Your Kryptonite

Beauty in the day: a list I haven’t heard together before. The kindergarten cutie came in at breakfast time and wanted me to check on her because some kids near her had taken waffles and sausage for their breakfast, and she was pretty sure she was allergic. We chatted, and as she left, satisfied with the advice I had given her, she declared that she had been mistaken. She remembered now what it is that she is actually allergic to: kitties, and frogs and butterflies.
#legomymenagerie

The Wheels on the Bus

Beauty in the day: the day was over. The kids had all gone home. At least, that’s what I thought. The PM Preschoolers had been walked out to their bus, and now that they were all safely in said bus, the teachers left. This left the young, cool Jamaican bus driver in a quandary, since a little girl in the front seat announced that she HAD to go potty. She was adamant about it, and he was very unsure what to do. He managed to get my attention, and I went out to him and learned of his situation. “I can take her into the school, and you stay here with your riders. No problem.” He was very grateful, but immediately became semi-horrified when, one-by-one, all the little tykes were claiming that they, too, HAD to go (“Bus Driver, Bus Driver!”). He started out by telling them that they could NO WAY go (“I know these kids, and they are just trying to have fun,” he revealed, his dreadlocks bobbing). Then you could see the doubt begin to creep in, as he looked to the left, and then to the right, and then back at me.
“We can just take a field trip. I don’t mind. I can take them all.” This was just too much for him. I couldn’t take them ALL. He suddenly became all business, and settled for a particular 4 children to go on this adventure. They came down the bus steps to me, and I got them to line up and follow me. The bus driver called after me, “That little guy will need some help with his pants. He can’t do it by himself.” I found myself semi-impressed: I guess he DOES know these kids! And by the way: he was right.
#whosaysalltheydoisdrive?

Turnip Amigo

Beauty in the day: Turnip came to see me today. He actually found a few reasons to come by, but I never spoke to him on those occasions. He finally came in later in the day and sauntered up to the counter by my desk. “So, did you have a nice weekend?”

I told him that I did.

“Do you have any plans?”

“Plans?”

“Yeah.”

Hmmmm…. “Do you mean for the evening?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I will go home and make some dinner.”

“No, I mean -”

“You mean after school gets out for the summer?”

“Yes. What will you do for the summer?”

“Well, I might work at Summer School. Are you going to Summer School? I think I will work at Lake Hills.”

“Lake Hills? I will tell my mom.” He started out the door and then turned and came back. “Ms. Nordstrom, right?”

“Right.”

“YEP! I’m gonna check!” And then he was off.

#makingfriendsatschoolwithturnip

The Whole Kit and Caboodle

Beauty in the day: the clinic aide’s name is Kit. Kit and I work often in tandem with kids that come to the office to “see the nurse”. She employs the same strategies that I often use, so we “get” one another. Like yesterday, when little kindergartener came in for the first of 4 times that day, complaining that his leg really hurt. This kid looks like a tiny Russell Wilson (seriously, it’s true; Kit and I discussed this). He even smiled when he said his leg hurt really bad – that was his grave error. Kit looked on as I told him, “When that happens, you first rub, rub, rub the sore spot. Then you pay it gently a few times. Then you smooth it out a bit, and then it will feel better.” He did it all dubiously, and we sent him back to class without a review on his part.

She’s also been there when I have had young ladies complaining of pain perform arabesques and other graceful dance positions before sending them back to class.

Today as Kit was sitting and mostly minding her own business, she innocently opened a file cabinet drawer into her leg. This move caused her to yelp out in pain, and I have to concede here – she hit it rather hard.

“Ow!” She exclaimed.

“Kit, are you okay?”

She looked at me with pain in her eyes, began rubbing her shin, and recited, “First you rub, rub, rub” as she rubbed her smacked leg. Next she was patting and smoothing. For her finale she stood and performed an arabesque, looked at me with a pained expression, and said valiantly, “Feels good.”

I dearly love to laugh. Thanks Kit. 😂

Mama Mia

Beauty in the day: he was ushered into the clinic, wailing with pain. The 2nd grader had gotten his fingers shut in a door, and he was traumatized to the hilt. On top of the fact that he is pretty new, he speaks next to no English, and his native tongue is Uzbek, one that no one else in our building knows. His eyes were wild with pain and fear, and the “it’s okay’s” were not making much of a dent to soften his loud howling. I let him talk to his mom on the phone, which brought even more wailing, because everybody knows that we cry more when we talk to our mamas. After the call (in Uzbek), I took his face in my hands, and ran my hands through his hair a few times, and he started quieting down a fraction. So I bent his head down a little bit so that our foreheads were touching, and whispered to him that his mama was going to come, and that she would make it better. I whispered it several times, and brushed tears away – and after a few shuddered breaths, he found a way to stop howling and locked eyes with me. Although he didn’t know my words, he knew what my spirit was saying to his. He crumbled a little, and went to wait for his mama. Sometimes we can say a lot without any words at all.

And speaking of mamas, this one is excited to announce that her littlest baby of nearly 22 years, is COMING HOME on May 21st. Celebrating!!!