Spell check does not work in real life

On Monday morning, the teacher greets the classroom of twenty-four eager, happy students.

"I have the new first grade spelling list for this week. Ten fabulous new words and two bonus words. Let's introduce the new words!"

1. have - I have a new dog.

"Who would like to volunteer to spell the word 'have'?" asks the teacher.

"h-a-v-e", Brian confidently spells.

The teacher writes the word on the board and praises Brian.

2. funny - I laughed at his funny joke.

"Any volunteers?" questions the teacher. "Go ahead, Jake."

"f-u-c-k", Jake innocently spells.

The teacher ceases writing midstream f-u-.... and hides her face (creative, new, and very funny).

"Well, not exactly. Actually, there are five letters in this word. But ... Jake can I see you a moment. Class, please continue working on your reading handout."

Thank God the other twenty-three first-graders have not been weaned on the F-Word.

Going on a Fieldtrip

Heading out on a field trip to the local park, the teacher asks the children to imagine what they might encounter. Remember this park has a pond.

"Grass!" shouts Hyllary.

"Ducks!" announces Wyatt.

"Geese!" bellows Carter.

"Squirrels!" yells Aliya.

"Bugs and other yucky things!" insists Betsy and Windy.

"Good job, students! I love all of your answers. When we return to the classroom, we will record our findings in our journal," states the teacher. "And ..." an interruption occurs ...

"FLAMINGOS!" shouts Vanessa, who has obviously never been to a park in Texas!













(Photo courtesy of flickr.com and marymactavish)

Yes, Ms. Tellier, There is a Cricket Season

I am having a difficult time concentrating. I am having a difficult time focusing on the twenty-two little people sitting before me. I am NOT just hearing a noise. I am hearing the most disturbing little sound.

"Can any of you hear that?" I question as my sign language interpreter translates to four of the students for me. [Translating, really!] "DO you hear that?"

"There has to be a stuck cricket somewhere in this classroom."

When crickets get stuck or distressed their cricket-clicks get very loud! Our current reading lesson is temporarily on hold. We move right into a science lesson, "Who can find the Cricket?"

Row one checks the windows.
Row two checks the closet.
Row three checks the lockers.
Row four checks the bookcases.

With all the movement in the classroom, the Cricket becomes very quiet. So, our Cricket hunt is unproductive.

We return to reading. After sailing through two pages, the Cricket sounds reappear. The classroom falls silent. It is never this quiet. We all listen to the Cricket. Where is it hiding?

I step outside onto the portable classroom steps. There are no cricket sounds. I return to the classroom. Yes, there's the Cricket!

I try to get beyond the Cricket's discomfort. We finish our reading lesson and prepare for our math lesson. Everyone is distracted, the poor Cricket is on every one's mind.

The intercom disrupts the classroom's thoughts. "Ms. Tellier, could you please send AJ to the office to pick up his lunch?" "Yes, he is on his way," I reply.

AJ selects a friend to go with him to the office. The two boys walk to the main school building while the class continues working on their one-hundred addition problems.

The silence is quickly noted. "Where did the Cricket go?" "I don't hear anything!"

"Class, please check inside, under and over your desks one more time!"

Nothing.

AJ and friend return to the class and begin to finish their math problems. The Cricket is back. We all hear it. Where is the Cricket?

"AJ and friend, can I see you please? I want to do a little experiment.

AJ appears to be uncomfortable and slips his shoes off. Out jump three crickets. I stare in disbelief. I begin to laugh hysterically. The class is staring at the crickets. The class is now in an uproar.

"AJ, did you feel the crickets in your shoes?" I queried.

"Naw, my shoes just felt a little funny, I thought it was my socks," answered AJ.

And in all seriousness, AJ looked right at me and announced, "Ms. Tellier - it IS Cricket season!"

[I still hear the sound of crickets every spring and it always happily reminds me of the class that graduated from high school in 2008. Congratulations Class!]

Crank gets the Look!

Victoria reached a milestone today...

She has officially mastered the "go to hell" glare and she used it in an appropriate situation.

Victoria is a good student. She is diligent. She is serious. She is responsible. She is well-behaved. (Or so I think in my own delusional state-of-being.) Children always act differently when they are away from their parents. I know this from experience. And since she is a problem-child at home, then she must be perfect at school.

The principal is an old bitter woman who never married and never raised children. And not that you need to be married or have children to be an effective principal, I do believe it would have helped this woman. On the golden egg scale, she registers as a 'bad egg' (remember Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?). Cranky principal has one positive characteristic - she takes education very seriously. However, she is not a pedestal role model for children.

The "Crank" visited my daughter's Kindergarten classroom. Victoria's class was participating in a writing lesson. At that exact moment, the "Crank" selected my child to approach. The quietest, the most shy, the most sensitive, and the best handwriting.

In a coarse and unfriendly voice, Crank announced, "Victoria, if you keep holding your pencil like that, you won't be passing to first grade. How would you like to repeat Kindergarten?"

Victoria kept on writing. Pretending that this woman couldn't possibly be talking to her (another mastered action, perhaps, learned from me). Victoria's head is screaming at the Crank (I can hear it)!

Crank insisted, "Victoria, I want you to hold your pencil this way" (as she removed Victoria's pencil and placed it into her hand in a different position). It was so awkward that Victoria could not legibly write her name.

And this is where the "LOOK" was coming to fruition.

She glared at this woman (who remained quite oblivious), squinted up her big blue eyes, clenched her teeth, and drained her face of color. If actions could speak, "GO TO HELL" would have been screamed from the depths of her gut!

The school photographer had been following the principal for candid interaction photographs. Ironically, school photographer took a photo at the exact same moment that the "LOOK" was produced.

Crank demanded, "Victoria, are you paying attention? I told you to do it the correct way!" (Victoria had resumed her own successful pencil position, disregarding Crank's authority.)

Victoria looked up and shouted, "I heard you. AND YOU are hurting my Mother's feelings."

Crank was clearly confused. Victoria continued, "MY MOTHER LOST TWO FINGERS FROM SICK BACTERIA AND SHE CAN'T WRITE THAT WAY EITHER!"

Crank is retiring in seven days. We are looking forward to a joyful year in first grade.

Too bad school photographer deleted the photo! She is the one who informed me of the situation. For now, Victoria is keeping her secret about the scary principal encounter! And, me, I am trying to find a way to successfully model the balance between rebellion and independence!

the OCD hugger

my daughter goes to school with a hugger. the hug lasts for an eternity (according to my daughter). it is the infinite hug. it is the energizer bunny hug that keeps on going, and going, and going. it is the STD hug that keeps on giving, and giving, and giving.

victoria loves affection. but not from the hugger. but not at school. but not all day long.

with only 11 more school days, we are looking forward to the end of kindergarten a.k.a 'kinderhuggin'.

we have learned nothin' from kinderhuggin.

victoria adamantly demands the obvious, "stop". but the hugger continues on in delusion. perhaps, "stop" in hugger language means "more". although, the two words sound not even a little similar.

unfortunately, i have witnessed this particular hugger in action. she wraps her arms tightly around the victim, hugs tightly, and forgets to let go. she hangs.

as for victoria, my daughter stiffly stands with her feet planted on the ground and her arms glued to her sides. victoria's stature resembles a wood plank. she is unwavering. she is unwilling. she is unhappy. her facial expressions tell all.

is this hugger socially inept? how can she not read body language or facial expressions at six years old? children are much more in tune with the world than adults. children can feel long before they can articulate.

we proceed to our car after school. victoria begins to unload now that we are in private. "i told her to stop. i told her i didn't want to catch swine flu from her. i told her 'no'. i told her that if my baby sister dies from her germs then my daddy will kill her." victoria continued on... "mommy, i hope you don't mind i used daddy's name. i didn't want to hurt your feelings because you would kill her too. but i said daddy because baby sister is his favorite (since i am your favorite and HE gave her brown eyes).

i sigh. i am exhausted. i can see the end. eleven more school days. this has been ongoing for one-hundred and seventy three afternoons. i am praying that the 'swine flu' threat will cease hugs. but i doubt it.

what else happened today?

victoria suddenly remembers, "when i said all those things to that hugger, i looked at her hard, i stared right through her almost". my head screamed at her: "my forehead reads 'stupidass' and my finger's pointing at 'you', how come you can't see them"?"

then with her giant kindergarten heart and mind, victoria explains, "don't worry mommy, it was just my head talking. i didn't say that out loud so i never really even said that bad word at all."