Subbing in Kindergarten

    I'm standing in the middle of chaos - wondering what the hell I'm doing here. Interviewing physicists and clergy is much easier than what I've just signed up for. Heck, even interviewing chefs is easier than this and they oftentimes possess inflated egos. All I can say about that - is the Food Network has created small hometown chefs who think they are celebrity chefs just because they can grilled a steak properly. To be fair - I can't really grill a steak properly- so I will give them props for that.

    But media jobs are hard to find and I was in need of some income - so I signed up to be a substitute teacher. After all, I homeschooled the girls during their middle school years and we work on assignments during the summers. I also have a background in education, although not formal classroom experience - so why not?

    After a background check and two and half hours of training I'm ready to lead the classroom. Or so the sub coordinator tells me.

    Um, no. I thought I was ready to lead the classroom and then I decided to sub for a kindergarten classroom for my first time.
    It was like 24 Baby Blueberries at the same time. I wasn't a temporary kindergarten teacher - I was a manager of chaos. A director of potty breaks, Band-Aids, and oh, please don't eat the math cubes.

    To be fair the day had no chance not to be a little on the chaotic side- the teacher had gotten ill and went home half way through the day. So the little guys went to lunch and when they came back- there I was to take over - after they had only attended two weeks of school. They don't even have their routine down and their teacher has gone missing.

      It started out calm and managed though. Our first assignment was watching a Leapfrog video on the alphabet. But I couldn't find the video. So we searched the Youtube for it. I found it, but not the entire song.
    "That's not the right one," one little boy told me.
    "I don't know which one it is, guys."
    "It's that one," another student insisted.
    "No, it's not. It's that one."
    "I see Pete the Cat on there- can we watch that?"
    "No," I said, finally finding the correct Leapfrog video.
     All the kids joyfully sang with the song and tried to make their letter sounds. Okay, this sub thing is going to go okay, I think to myself.
     Then we have to work on our All About Me books. Do you know how hard it is to pass out books when you don't know anyone's name and half the class isn't listening for their name? And some of the kids can't even pronounce their names well enough for you to understand them?
    Finally, all the books are passed out and I'm reading a book to them while they color.
    Then total and complete chaos erupts. The noise level has slowly and steadily grown higher and then I turn around to see that two of the little girls have dumped a tub of crayons on the floor and the two boys sitting at their table are running over the crayons with their chairs. OMG
   
    And that's when the parapro walks in to pick up a student.

    I haven't been that embarrassed for a long time - not since I asked a chef how to make peasant soup instead of pheasant soup. (He was wondering if I was seriously asking about cannibal recipes.)

     She instantly goes to the front of the room and threatens to take away recess if they don't quiet down and start listening to the sub.
     A startled hushness falls over the previously noisy kindergartners. Lose recess? The horror.

    And for the rest of the day - when ever the noise level started creeping up- all I had to do was remind them that they wanted to go out for recess, right? Instant quiet.
   And I also kept the two little trouble makers separated for the rest of the day. That helped a lot.

   At the end of the day the counselor came in to do a activity with the children- they kept her on her toes too. She had a photo of her dogs and do you know how much five years old want to talk about all their pets - dead and alive? I'm now aware that there are quite a few cats and hamsters buried in people's backyards throughout town.
       After the children leave she comes up to me and says, do you know how many people won't sub in kindergarten because of how busy they are? Quite a few.
      I nod, still trying to catch my breath. But surprisingly, I found myself thinking I would come back - but with stickers. Definitely stickers and maybe Goldfish crackers.

    
    

Ode to The Dress, the Internet and DC Toy Collector

Or Why I'm going to Start a youtube about wrapping 

Toys Back Up in Their Boxes

 

Yeah.  The big debate. Is it blue and black? Is it white and gold? Why the hell am I even writing about this?? 

What is wrong with me? 

What is wrong with people? 

Never has there been a time in known, recorded history that the entire world could communicate one-on-one with each other in real, actual time. No pony express. No long trips over the ocean. No pigeons delivering messages on their legs. No fire signals. No morse code. No message in a bottle.

Nope, real time. Instant.

And what do we discuss?

The perceived color of an ugly ass dress. 

But atlas, we have more important things to discuss...

like why and how the hell did DC Toy Collector from youtube make $4.9 million dollars last year unwrapping toys! 

Seriously. Have you watched? 

Umm, well... I have, because I have a confession to make...

Baby Blueberry LOVES her. She loves to watch the pretty fingernails unwrap the toys and play with the toys. 

And at first I thought it was weird that I was allowing my baby to watch some grown woman play with toys on the Internet. (Like really, what am I teaching her?) 

But then I realized that this woman was teaching Baby Blueberry her colors. Because as DC Toy Collector plays with the play-dough and makes the creations, she names the colors. 

And pretty soon, Baby Blueberry is saying the colors out loud along with the mysterious millionaire with the ever-changing fingernails. I'm sure she has them done in a salon- she has the money for it. 

And so this week, we find out that some of the highest paid channels on the Internet are of people unwrapping toys...and playing with them.

Mmmm...now, what does that say about us as a society? But who am I to say anything...because when Baby Blueberry is really fussy and demanding and I'm trying to cook dinner...I let her watch someone else play with toys on the Internet. 

Oh, and one of the other highest paid channels on youtube....stampylonghead  ----which for a while Abu couldn't get enough of. Damn you Minecraft and your league of minions. Now I know how to mine diamonds and avoid creepers. 

I also watched the episode where stampy met Amy- sorry, I can't recall her gamer name. It was a touching video. 

Of course, you have to be proud of stampy- with the money he made- he's definitely not living in his parents' basement- which I always wondered. 

And just to be fair--I'm not putting any youtube channel host down. I'm actually pretty jealous of them. Making that kind of money with their creativity and fearlessness to be different. 

In fact, I think I should start a youtube channel. Bean thinks I should make a channel titled, "crazy middle-aged woman does stupid shit" - So like all teenagers she doesn't mind the parents humiliating themselves- she just rather we filmed it and got rich off it. 

I was leaning towards the channel where I do my nails and wrap toys back up into their packaging. Cool idea, huh? 

But I distract you from what's important...what's the color this puppy?

She might not be the most articulate person in the room but when she is- it's because she blogged.

Or how referring to one self's in the third person either makes you 

look crazy or super cool.

 

         The ball of fire was lodged in my throat- not a real fire mind you, with my history of clumsy- should I take up knife throwing or fire eating- I would probably be mortally injured. But anyway, back to my tale...

          The ball of fire was lodged in my throat, settled against my vocal cords and I couldn't speak. My chest was tight, like a vise...no, too cliché... like a boa was slowly wrapping around me, squeezing tighter with every breath I took.

I've definitely been watching too many episodes of 'Naked and Afraid.' For people that hate snakes, this is probably not your type of show.

        My anger was thick like molasses. Umm, this is why I shouldn't write in metaphors. Does anyone ever cook with molasses anymore? My grandparents had a bottle of it in their cupboard, it was like over twenty years old. They never used it but they insisted it was still safe to eat.

        So lets try this again....my anger was thick like when you're on Facebook and the news feed won't load. How am I suppose to stay updated with everyone's coffee drinks and meals out if I can't see their pictures? Or worst yet, I might miss a funny cat video!!!

       (Disclaimer: I actually enjoy connecting with family and since I have a big interest in food, seeing what people are eating or cooking does not bother me. When my family or friends go on vacation, I will beg them for details about every meal they ate. They get annoyed, I just want to know if the butter had fresh garlic in it.)

      (Second disclaimer: I love funny cat videos. Or puppies video. I always have been enjoying YouTube channels, List 25 and Danger Dorian. I've learned the craziest things watching their videos. Check it out.)

     So where was I...It was a dark and stormy night... No, no, no. That's not right. It was a bright and sunny day and I was rolling my eyes because it was better than the harsh and unforgiving words heavy on my tongue.

      Of course, rolling one's eyes is probably not the best method of communication a grown woman in her thirties can use. But in this case it was the most respectful thing I had to say to this person. (And no, we're not talking about Hero Hottie. With his new work schedule we don't even get to see each other at this point, but that's another story.)

      So where does this blog leave us, my loyal readers? I won't go into details of the situation because it would be disrespectful of me. And maybe just a little passive aggressive. But the incident did remind me that it's hard for me to communicate when I'm upset.

       That's how I ended up swallowing fire instead of standing my ground. But out of respect for where the situation happened I wasn't going to unleash like a dragon blowing fire either. Mmm, I like that metaphor.

      I think everyone in the world can agree that communication is one of the hardest skills to learn, to use, to apply, yet if you think about it, it is the foundation of our entire lives.

      If we don't learn to communicate our feelings, than we turn around and blog about it.

      But communication is difficult, just ask Blueberry who is in the stage of throwing herself on the floor, belly down, performing the typical stereotype tantrum as if she read it in a baby manual.

-How to Perform the Perfect Tantrum-

Step #1: Always wait until Mommy is tired and in the middle of the store. Preferably, near the candy aisle.

Step #2: Gently placed yourself on the ground and start kicking your legs and pounding your fists.

Step #3: Scream. Look up, make sure Mommy is watching. Should you make eye contact with her, continue with the tantrum. Should Mommy be ignoring you, than give it one more good scream but realize Mommy might just keep ignoring you.

Step #4: It only has to work once, after that Mommy will be ready to hand you some candy as soon as you look like you're going to scream.

But onto a slightly more serious note.

The best advice I can give doesn't come from me, but I'm sure this lovely woman won't mind me sharing. –-After all, she wanted Bean and Abu to fully take these words to heart. --

Do not let the small-mindedness of people hold you back. Do not allow their insecurities to ruin your sense of self worth. Because in the big picture, the world is a wonderful place full of things to learn, people that will like you for who you are, and things to experience.

If you allow small-minded attitudes to hold you back, you won't go exploring. You won't live.

And she also said, give something back. Find a way, because not everyone has the same way of showing kindness, and give back.

Heck, I could use that advice. It's taken me too long, probably because I have a touch of people-pleaser in me, to realize that there are people that like to dwell in the miserable, and they will drag you down to the murky depths with them.

To those people I say: for the words I should have spoken, no longer need said, I have found my sense of self and it is not in your hate.