Beauty in the day: so they were lined up by the door of the school waiting for dismissal. I like to go out into the foyer and say goodbye to the kids – this is when they sometimes tell me random stuff.
One little kindie girl held up a pice of paper folded like a card and colored bright colors. “Look at what my friend made for me!” She was exuberant. Friend was next to her, and hopped up and down silently, a grin spread all over her face.
The kindie girl continued her exaltation, showing me how her friend had drawn her a lovely picture, “and look!” She got even more excited, which made Friend hop up and down ever so much more jubilantly. “She colored the two sides my favorite colors!” And then, with a highly exaggerated wave of her hand, showed first the purple side, then the pink.
Now Friend stopped hopping, and leaned in toward her beneficiary, who smiled at her lovingly.
The ringing bell signaled the need for the bus, and off they went.
At least two little girls had a very good day today. Probably more. Things like that can be infectious.
Beauty in the day: stopped to get a rare Starbucks this morning. I don’t usually have the time. While I waited for my yummy coffee, I watched a little boy at a table nearby. The early morning sun was coming in the window in a way that lit him gently, and I could make out tiny, soft freckles on his nose and cheeks.
He had a cup of hot cocoa, and in a little bag was a morning bun. He slid the bun out, and put his palms flat against the sides, his fingers shooting out straight and stiff. He lifted the bun directly in front of his face, as if to inspect it reverently, the morning sun illuminating the cinnamon sugar crystals, and his eyes traveled over the surface, taking in it’s inviting warmth.
He lowered the bun to the napkin, and the took a respectable bite.
I’ve had those morning buns, and I have to tell you – he was on point.
Beauty in the day: she was pretty upset. She wanted to go potty, but her mommy was nowhere to be found, and at home, potty is something to share with mommy.
We encouraged her. We cajoled her. We tried to meet her halfway. She cried crocodile tears, but mommy didn’t materialize. She’s tiny, but has a BIG presence. At one point, someone was telling her to take deep breaths – and she did this in earnest, arms going up as she inhaled….and going down as she exhaled. She did this several times, and then the final exhale.
….and then the waterworks. Good thing school was just about out. She was going to see her mommy really soon. Kindergarten is a super-exciting experience – but a mommy-in-the-pocket would be the perfect accessory for some.
Beauty in the day: there was a LOT of it. Beauty here, beauty there, beauty everywhere. Beautiful children, beautiful parents, beautiful staff. I looked on delightedly as students so loudly repeated what Mrs. Anderson recited for them in ONE VOICE. I looked on with enchantment as the students silently and interestedly watched a video about how their brain works when it’s learning. I listened with GREAT INTEREST when a soon-to-be-Kindergartener told me her important truth: “My 3-year-old sister is going to turn 5 after she turns 4, just like me.”
We build knowledge upon knowledge at Ardmore.
Beauty in the day: we use these little tags for kids who ride busses. The parents fill them out and attach them to their kid’s backpacks. I received some from our transportation department, and I knew right away I would need more. I called.
“Hey, you know those little tags you sent? I know I’m gonna need more. We seem to go through them like…” I paused to think, and was about to say “candy”, when the transportation rep finished my sentence with, “toilet paper?”
We laughed, because her suggestion was actually more apropos.
I got the tags I requested today, but it took a minute to find them, as they were very carefully wrapped in several layers of toilet paper. 😂
Beauty in the day: he got a little scrape, and needed a bandaid. I pulled out the Bactine, and gave a little spray. Then I got some nice, soft, gauze to clean it. I started to clean.
“But go slowly,” he said.
I cleaned it kind of fast, and looked to see if he was handling it okay, and said, “I should just go fast so it will hurt less.”
“Okay, go fast, but go SLOWLY.”
I slowed down, and cleaned carefully.
“But of course, my friends are all waiting for me,” he mused.
I cocked an eyebrow and looked at him.
“Should I go fast, or should I go slow?”
He peered up at me, and then said, with authority, “You should go fast. But SLOWLY.”
Beauty in the day: she came into the office with a slight limp, but a bright smile.
“What’s up, buttercup?” I asked.
She looked sheepish, and then, with a blush, started in. “Well, I’m sent here by my teacher (she held up her pass as proof), because, well, because my foot, or my TOE, is hurting me a bit.” She paused for a moment, and checked to see if she had made sense to me.
She could see that I wasn’t lost, and so she gave me an expression that communicated that there was more.
Again, the sheepish look.
“I mean, I’m not sure WHY, but for some really strange reason this morning I put a rubber band around my toe.”
“No worries! 🙂Let’s go take a look!” We chatted amicably about why rubber bands don’t go on toes, removed it (tight, but thankfully not entirely tight), and rubbed the toe back to a happy place.
She left then, and giggled at her own mischief. “I think I should leave rubber bands off my toes and fingers.” I assured her of the validity of her newfound wisdom.