MrsDoF's Dear Ones

The phone ringing at 6:09^am woke us up.
Definitely the computerized voice saying there was a job available.

At the junior high school within walking distance.

As I pressed all the buttons giving my employee ID, the bedside clock’s alarm sounded.

Um, SubFinder, I really coulda used that extra minute of sleep.

Last night’s storms zapped out the traffic control signals, making it a 4-way Stop, so crossing Main Street on foot took much courage.  I was wearing my bright orange U of I jacket, and I think it helped drivers to see me.

I got across one pair of lanes, then waited on the center island for several minutes to be able to cross the other pair.
Thank goodness the lights at the next intersection were working properly, so I got a WALK signal.

This job position is one when I have to use all my brain power.  TA in two different 7^th grade Math classes, one with an assignment handout about Probability, and the other assigned the definition of a function and equation and problems to solve.
One class for 6^th grade Science, about Simple Machines (today was wheel-and-axle), tutoring a 6^th grade Spelling Group (courteous was on the list), and a mixed age/grades ESL class (two kids from countries in Africa, two from countries in Asia, and five from countries Central America—talk about diversity).

8^th Hour was supposed to be a TA in a Study Hall, but I was asked to collate and staple stacks of papers into Spelling packets.  Getting ready for next year already.
I got set up at a big table in the back corner of the closed and nicely quiet IMC (Instructional Media Center. Back in my school days, it woulda been called the Library).
I worked my way through almost two tubes of staples.  The Resource Teacher was impressed at the quantity done, about 2/3 of the pile.

Walking home, I found a small wooden table in a trash pile in front of a college student apartment building.

I set my bookbag on top and carried ‘em on home.  I had to put it down every so often to rest my wrists.

As soon as son Chris saw it, he asked if he could have it for his apartment.
Since it is not tall enough to do the job in the corner I had expected for it, I will give it to him.

The old canning jars from the storeroom in the basement have found a new home in response to my e-mail.
A lady who runs a small organic farm and has a booth at an outdoor market seemed really appreciative.
She came by with a pick-up truck to take them away, on her way to fetch her daughter.

E-mail is a really handy method of communication.

Meanwhile, a buddy from church has given us a very large television, and a sturdy stand to hold it up.  My guys have the measuring tape out and the living room is a jumbled mess.  It’s a good thing I don’t read anything worthwhile on the tv schedule, because evening viewing pleasure is out of the question.

What with all the stapling and table carrying, I can’t ask my poor tired wrists to do any hook holding.

For me, a day without crochet is a rare occurrence.

Maybe that’s why I’m typing instead.

Even this may have proved to be motion too much.

I’ll take some pain reliever, load the dishwasher, feed the cats, then hit the sheets early tonight.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Well, my goodness.

I just got home from a day in Kindergarten.
The lead teacher was also a substitute, so the class teacher left us 5 pages of detailed notes.

We must first admit that Kindergartners are very smart little people.
Although name plates were clearly affixed to the tops of desks, the little darlings tried to sit in the wrong seat, then cover the name with a paper, then answer with a different name when I took Attendance.

Lunch count was several minutes of arguing amongst themselves, what with which kind of milk and who might maybe be allowed a second sandwich.
It seemed to go downhill from then, even though I have often been in rooms when playtime has Activity Centers and the groups rotate.

I’m just glad I’ve had previous experience.  Early on, I can usually spot the tattlers, the twitchers, the watchers.

When one wee one told us that the caseworker would be picking her up, I asked her where was her written note.
She said I should call the office. I mentioned that the office would call Me if she was needed to leave, and meanwhile, she has these three other pages to complete.

She was there all.day.long.

During movie time, one girl kept dropping a coin.  It was not real money, just a souvenir from a tourist destination.
There had already been trouble with that coin from someone else in the morning, and I made sure it had been returned to the locker.

Apparently, the coin came back out after lunch.

So I asked why this one had the coin.

Well, she gave it to me.

The movie ended, and I got distracted with making sure everybody had all the proper papers and parent notes.

Next thing I know, there’s a touch on my elbow, and so-an-so has been looking all over for her coin, which she left on her desk.

I go over to Little Miss last seen holding the coin.

her answer “Well, I dropped it and it rolled and I don’t know where it went”

Three gallant young men immediately begin looking here and there and under and climbing on top to find the coin.

Not a one is tending to stuffing backpack and getting ready for the bus lane.

So I put out my hand and asked for her backpack.  I’ll just make sure all your stuff is where it is supposed to be.

Property Search and Seizure laws are null and void between adults and students in Kindergarten.

Well, did her tone change then.
She unzips the smaller pocket, takes out a wad of tissues, maybe 4 thick.

In the very middle is the fingerprint covered piece of brass.

I declare that all searchers should return to the task of getting ready to be leaving.

When a teacher says the word Searchers and they don’t seem to know what it means, this is another distraction.

While I am writing “the thief’s” name on the board, I get peppered with questions about what I said.

One girl says I was showing off, saying words nobody else ever heard of.  My lip is almost bleeding while I tried to keep a straight face.

Another girl said I shouldn’t write the name because the coin did get back to the one who owns it.

That should have been a real high up “teachable moment” but there was a big yellow bus outside the window and no time to do much else but line up.

I wrote a rather lengthy note for the class teacher to find tomorrow.

Out of old habits from years at the daycare center, I went around the room and opened and closed every cabinet door and checked the bathroom.  I’ll never forget the time I found a kid hiding under the sink at the end of lunch.

The other Sub said we had a good day,
so I suppose we did.

But why in the world does a 5 year old think it might be fine to claim something as her own just because it was on the next desk?  and then lie about where it might have gone?

~~love and Huggs, Diane

ps I’m in a different school building and grade tomorrow