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….”
Beauty in the day: he came to the clinic with cracked, bleeding lips.
“I have just the thing!” I told him. Afterwards he asked to call his mom.
“Hi mom. My lip was bleeding, but Ms. Nordstrom put gasoline on it, and it’s better now.”
Beauty in the day: he talks to us. We often don’t understand what he’s saying, but he’s also pretty animated, so us educated folk are generally able to decipher his antics. Today he had a few words for the Librarian. He seemed interested in her vest, and she leaned down to let him in’vest’igate. He motioned to her zipper, which he then grasped, and pulled up to her chin. She thanked him with a smile, and he left, exhibiting pride in a job well-done.
Sometimes love is letting someone zip you up.
Beauty in the day: it was time to take the daily walk to pick up Jaffrey from school, so Bree told Everett to get ready. He showed up with her crocheted beanie cap filled with about 16 hot wheels. She noted this and mentally rolled her eyes, but figured if he could carry them in the cap, it wasn’t worth the argument to tell him to leave them behind.
When they reached the school, the children we being dismissed, and heading out to meet their parents. Bree suddenly became aware that Everett was passing out his hot wheels to kids, saying, “Merry Christmas!” Bree asked him if he knew that he wasn’t getting those back, and Everett said, “I know, but they’re for the kids!”
Beauty in the day: there were two of them, standing in front of my desk this morning before school started. One has been there many, many times, his daily mission to talk to me before line-up. The other is a new student, sweet and quiet; it’s unexpected that she wants to visit – but she does.
He started it out. “Ms. Nordstrom, I would like a fidget spinner. ” This is in reference (as my story will show) to a well-used fidget spinner that is on display in my window. It’s not there to torture the students – much.
“I don’t have fidget spinners here!”
He begged to differ, as he inclined his head with a tilt toward the one on display.
“Oh, that’s MY fidget spinner. But I don’t have any for students here.”
No matter – he was nonplussed. “I would like a USB.”
A USB? He wants a USB? I looked confused. He inclined his head again and tilted it toward my window, where there were 2 USB flash drives. One belonged to a parent who had left it behind the day before, and one was mine.
“That’s MY USB. I don’t have USB’s for students here.”
While he thought of his next request, shy girl pipes in. “I want that Griffin!” She pointed to the Eagle statue in my window.
“Well, that’s actually an Eagle. And it belongs to the school, so I can’t give it to you.”
As equally prepared to continue as the boy, she asked if I had any extra harmonicas. 🙄
There are no harmonicas in my window display.
I sent them to line up. 🤷🏻♀️
Beauty in the day: standing in line to see the Terra Cotta Warriors led to another wait in a darkened vestibule. Little 7-ish-year-old waiting near me with mom and dad was finding the wait to be – well – challenging. It became apparent that the little one was involved in dance or cheer, as she was doing steps and arm motions in her spot, much to the consternation of her mother, who would whisper to her to stop. Little One would stop, but the rhythm had a hold of her, and within seconds she would be back at it, only to be reminded by mom to stop again. This continued (to my delight), and gave credence to Maya Angelou’s quote: “Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances.”
Beauty in the day: I made a new acquaintance at my local Safeway Starbucks. He made the first move, and kept the conversation going with such ease that I couldn’t stop smiling.
He’s gonna make quite a splash in Kindergarten this year.