"Get your hand out of your pants."

Yes. I said that today. Aye aye aye. One of those weeks. Today was a loosing battle. More so after lunch. Why? I blame the weather...that seems reasonable. Some days as I teacher I feel like the most important and best person in the world ("I taught you how to do that!!! You'll do that for the REST of your life!") and some days I feel no more than a glorified babysitter ("Okay EVERY table group just lost a table point!"). I try to have more days like the first one...most of the time I do. Not today.

At least they've been especially hilarious this week. That's been somewhat redeeming. Quoting random youtube videos...using vocabulary words in sentences about their future husbands...making up dumb songs...trying to guess how old the librarian is (she's not old at all by the way..)

Even still-

Three day weekend? Yes please.

I saw this on Danielle's blog- she teaches 4th grade at my school. It's from a book called 32 Third Graders and One Class Bunny by Phillip Done. I so get this.

"I take slivers out of fingers and bad sports out of 'steal the bacon.' I know when a child has gum in his mouth even when he is not chewing. I hand over scissors with the handles up. My copies of The Velveteen Rabbit and Treasure Island are falling apart. I can listen to one child talk about his birthday party and another talk about her sleepover and another talk about getting his stomach pumped last night-- all at the same time.
I fix staplers that won't staple and zippers that won't zip. I poke pins in the orange cap of glue bottles that will not pour. I plan lessons while showering, driving, eating, and sleeping. I put on Band-Aids and winter coats and school plays. I know they will not understand the difference between your and you're. I say "cover your mouth," after they have coughed on me.
I am a teacher.
I spend Thanksgiving vacation writing report cards, Christmas vacation cleaning my classroom, and summer vacation taking classes on how to relax. I turn jump ropes and am base in tag.
I am glad you can only get chicken pox once.
I correct pencil grips and spelling mistakes and bad manners. I push in chairs all the way, push swings higher, and push sleeves up while children are painting.
I'm allowed to touch the paper cutter.
I say, "Use two hands!" when they carry their lunch trays. I say, "Accidents happen," after they did not use two hands. I answer to both "Mom" and "Dad."
I am a teacher.
I hope April Fool's Day is on Saturday. I leave "shuger" and "vilets" mispelled on their valentines. I know all my continents and all my oceans. I tape pages back into books. I call on children whose hands are not raised.
I collect milk boxes and coffee cans and egg cartons. I know all my times tables. I can type without looking. I know that two pretzels do not equal one Hershey kiss.
I fix watchbands, repair eyeglasses, and search for lost milk money after freeze tag. I know when their fists will make a rock and when they will make scissors.
I know when a child does not understand. I know when a child is not telling the truth. I know when a child was up too late last night. I know when a child needs help finding a friend.
I am a teacher."

*Sigh. That's the introduction. I think I need to read this book.

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