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.
Beauty in the day: so, our 5th graders are working to qualify for “Self Manager” status. Many already have, and I was working on special custom badges attached to lanyards for each of them.
One 5th grade boy was sent to the workroom by his teacher to sharpen a handful of pencils, which he did, quite handily. We chatted about the lanyards while he did his chore and I continued with mine as well. He was preparing to leave, and I suggested he wait, while I finished he last of the lanyards, so he could deliver them to his teacher.
I instantly saw that this presented him with a predicament. One the one hand, the beautiful lanyards (which included his OWN personalized edition, complete with picture) would surely please his teacher and fellow students, and would DEFINITELY please himself. On the other hand, he was sent on a pencil-sharpening mission, and his well-earned status of Self Manager was quite fresh, and he was loathe to taint it in any way.
He said nothing, but smiled nervously at me, and I saw that he was delicately walking a balance beam between respecting his teacher’s instruction, and respecting mine. He seemed to be swaying ever so slightly under the weight of this while he waited for me to finish. I thought I detected tiny beads of perspiration forming on his forehead, and he smiled at me with a pinched smile. His eyes darted back and forth, and then he would make eye contact with me and smile again, shyly.
After what surely seemed like an hour (but what was actually closer to 4 minutes), I was finished, and handed the lanyards to him, which he clutched like a trophy. As he left the workroom I called to remind him not to forget his pencils. I got an especially fun look from him for that.
His teacher reported that he came into the classroom and turned over the lanyards. Then he told her, “I have to be honest – I finished sharpening the pencils quite a bit earlier….”