A poop story...

This story is about butts and poop. IF you don't think that stories with butts and poop in them are funny, stop reading.


In Pre-K land, I had a little boy who was a regular visitor to the potty right after nap. Like clockwork. I even knew that I'd let nap run a little late if my sweet bathroom buddy woke up to go.

Usually he just went in and came out and all was done in a matter of minutes.

One day he goes in....and I wait....and wait....and let the others who need to "go" use the poty next door... and wait....and wait... I didn't want to interrupt... I knew he was ok from the one-sided conversation that was going on.

At the 10 minute mark I decided that enough is enough.

"Sweet Love? How ya doin in there?"

"Um..."

"Well, tell me what's wrong...."

"Um... Miss G? Mybuttwon'tletmypoopcomeout."

"Your.... what?"

"My BUTT... won't LET... my POOOOOOOP.... come OUT."

oh my.

"Well... can you tell you butt you'll just try again later?"

"Yeah... that works."

SO glad we can all get along.

Are your eyes broken?

Back in the days of Pre-K land, I used to try to emphasize my "nice-mean voice" with my "I-really-mean-business-face". (Ok, so I still do that in pre-teen-land...) You know the face I mean. Chin down turned, eyebrows up, eyes open wide... And in Pre-K land I often found myself balancing on my toes, trying not to fall over, while maintaining eye contact with an almost-five-year-old while simultaneously making mean face.

My darling Spenny was a frequent recipient of mean face. Spenny wasn't a bad kid - but mean face was just super effective on him. It would stop him in his tracks, he'd literally drop what he was working on, and get a scared-puppy-in-the-headlights look.

One day, I'd say in March or so, after receiving more mean faces that I could ever begin to count, I noticed that sweet Spenny wasn't so responsive.

Time to get out mean voice!

I squat down, balance, make eye contact, and as I'm trying to maintain mean face and choose my words carefully, I notice Spen looking deep into my face.

He looks concerned. He looks worried.

GOOD! This will be short and sweet. (Mind you, NOTHING is ever short and sweet in Pre-K land!)

I open my mouth to ask Spen if he'd like to share something with me and before I get a single syllable - before I even can take a breath - he puts his sweet, almost-five-hand on my cheek and says in the most sincere voice I've ever heard:

"Miss G? Are your eyes broken? Did I break your eyes?"

Oh, out of the mouths of babies. I switched from the mean eyes to the mean-eyebrows after that day!

Exit Tickets

I have my kids write me and "Exit Ticket" in their journals before leaving at the end of the day... it can be about anything that happened that day, something they learned, something they liked or didn't like, a note to me... whatever - just SOMETHING.

On Friday I rushed through reading them so that I could get out of dodge and start my long weekend, too. In the very last journal, from one of my most outspoken kiddos:

"Whoever decided that the kids and the teachers needed a three day weekend after the first week of school was really smart. Actually I think they were a genius."

Ditto that.

Happy Labor Day Weekend!!!!

-Mrs. G

My Name is NOT Ms.

One of my ultimate pet peeves is to be called "Ms."... It's really important to me that my kids address me as Mrs. LastName and understand WHY its so important to me. Some teachers in my school argue that its better than not being called anything or that its a sign of respect. I really don't like it and tell my kiddos that its like me calling them "boy" or "girl". They get it.

Anyway - the point of this post is that over the past week my class has officially decided (umprompted, I might add) to call me "Mrs. G" and has dubbed our class the "G-Unit".

I love my little 5th grade gangstas.

H is for Jalapenos

Back in college I tutored (actually, all of the site’s contributors did!) for a program helping struggling readers and English Language Learners. One of the precious little boys was in second grade and had only been in the US for six weeks when we met.

During some our first tutoring sessions we spent a lot of time going over the English alphabet and the sounds the letter make (the letter “sound” is written as the letter in “slashes”… i.e. J says /j/) .

A says /a/...apple, around, astronaut. B says /b/… bear, butter (montequilla!? … yes… montequilla!), bunny… and on through the alphabet.

About the second or third time through with me modeling the sounds I asked my sweet friend to think of words he had learned and say them when we got to the right letter. I would say one first and then he would say his. A, /a/, apple… alphabet (YAY!). B, /b/, baby… book (hurrah!)… we got to H… /h/ is a tricky sound to “get” for a Spanish speaker learning English (at least in my experience it is!).

I said H, /h/… homework. A long pause, an uncomfortable look, and just as I am about to suggest a word and move, on my creative tutee gets a sly look and a huge grin and says at the top of his lungs, “H! /h/! JALAPENO!!!!” Oh my, did we have a laugh at that. He KNEW that jalapeno didn’t start with H but he sure did get that it started with the same sound that H makes!

I can never go to type or write “jalapeno” without first writing out Halapeno.

Loving every moment,

Mrs. G

Meet the Teacher...uh, I already have

Today was "Meet the Teacher" day. Funny, my students have met me. The question is do they remember?! Considering I have a tiny class, if just one person showed up, that would be a pretty good percentage. And what do you know; one showed up! Walking in with hands over his ears and feeling very unsure about what this torture is all about, his mother drags him into our classroom. (note: my classroom moved to the other end of the hall, but I set it up exactly the same way it was last year) He is very upset, then suddenly, he notices his favorite lace-up toys right on the shelf where they're supposed to be! The world is getting better. He goes over to the toys and begins to take them off the shelf, then, WOW! With a slow glance around the room, it all starts to come back! With a small grin, he decides he wants the play dough instead. I start talking to mom, and before we know it, he's got playdough, blocks, lace-up toys, and books all over the floor. Amazing how quickly that happens. As I approach him to prompt the clean up, I get the push away. He does not want to be bothered. Uh oh, someone got used to having their way over the summer. Time for "The Clean Up Song"! Works like a charm. It's amazing, the power of song. Gets kids to clean up, and gets my husband to want to tape my mouth shut! (those darn songs get stuck in your head; I'm working on that)

Looks like we'll be starting the year off with a big refresher course in the rules of the classroom! And as an aside, let me just say that they grow soooo much over the summer! My goodness! Before I know it my elementary kiddos are going to be bigger than me! Let another year of excitement begin...