On to more wholesome topics (a day in the life of a preschool teacher)

I LOVE teaching preschool. I like to say that teaching preschool is the only occupation I know where you can actually get paid to sing and dance all day regardless of whether or not you have any talent.

And, as if umpteen preschoolers weren’t enough to keep one in stitches, I am lucky enough to have a co-teacher who keeps me laughing all day long.

Some days can be tough. 

Take school picture day for instance. We had one child who spent the entire session alternating between trying to remove his shirt and poking the child in front of him in the shoulder. Another kept busy throughout by slapping himself in the face. Meanwhile a girl in the front (when she wasn’t attempting escape from the picture) sat in her pretty pink skirt with her legs as wide open as she could manage. 

And that’s not to mention the everyday hyperactive energy of the other 12 children.

The photographers freely admitted that we got the gold star for most difficult class in the school and asked us at least twice if we drank heavily after class. (As a matter of fact...oh no wait! I already did that post...).

It’s hard to process much of anything while fifteen three and four year olds run every which way but loose through the classroom. 

For example, my co-teacher and I had this conversation just after a teacher we’ll call Amanda left our room, having checked with us on some scheduling changes for that day:

Me – Did I hear you just tell Amanda that we both understood why we weren’t having snack in our classroom today?
Her – Yeah. I totally don’t get that.
Me – Me neither. I don’t understand at all.

I find spending more time living on this planet tends to make humans MORE confusing rather than less, as the adults involved in preschool seem to be even more perplexing than the kids.

My co-teacher and I had this conversation about a week ago. Keep in mind that the original story told by the parent was done so in a room full of preschoolers:

Co-teacher – I didn’t understand that story Jimmy’s mom told us at all.
Me – Yeah, I didn’t get that story either.
Her – All I know is she said the word f*ck a lot.
Me – Yeah, that’s what I got from that story too.

The parents can be quite baffling even one on one without any children in the room. 

You know you’re in trouble when a parent spends 20 minutes graphing his concerns about his child, with the X and Y axis flip flopping throughout the conversation and with no discernible reason for a line on the graph whatsoever.

I do love it though. Where else can you do the chicken dance and call it work?!?!