OMG, did I just say that!

Mid week I had a really bad day at school. The night before I had little sleep, the power was off and it was so hot and humid, I just lay on the bed dripping sweat, fanning myself with the air conditioning instruction booklet. I took 3 cold showers trying to cool off. The power did come on for a couple of hours during the night (1 to 4 am) but I felt exhausted in the morning. All day I felt out of sorts and annoyed with the kids. I was so cranky with them. I said all those things that I would cringe when I heard teachers fussing at kids. I had no patience. To add to my stress, I had playground duty that day, so the day felt non stop, no breaks. And my knee was hurting.

Biking home that day, I was thinking, maybe I just can not do this. It has been too long since I was in the classroom, I'm too old, too out of shape. If I was a kindergartner, I would not want me for a teacher!

The next day, one of the girls arrived in tears. She had shown signs of separation anxiety but had been holding it in. A few days before, I had talked with her about her asking to go to the bathroom all the time. I said, "sometimes, if you just want to be by yourself, you can ask to go to the quiet room, you don't have to go to the bathroom all the time. " It didn't surprise me that she finally was letting it out, but my first reaction was--no wonder she doesn't want to come to school with such an ill tempered teacher!

I spent extra time with her, sat on my lap, I talked about how sad she was feeling and how much she missed her mommy. I said, "you know, when you are really, really missing your mommy, it makes your tummy hurt." When other children came over to ask why she was crying, we talked about when they missed their mommies. By mid-morning she got involved in playing--and it was one of her best days. She ate all her snack, did a block building with one of the active boys that she normally avoided, and wanted to read a book to me. When I commented that she seemed to be having fun in school, she said smilingly, "I still miss my mommy." On the playground, she connected with a friend who is in the other kindergarten class. I asked her if she misses her mommy sometimes. "No, never," she replied, "but I know some kids do."

Classically, she got busy drawing a picture and totally ignored her mother when she arrived to pick her up. It felt good to connect with a child--and somewhat amazed at the reaction of the other children. A few other children started sharing about how they missed their mother also.
And then one of the most self-possessed, self-assured, competent girls in the class, begins clinging to me and saying how much she misses her mom. By the next, she was back to her old self again. I thinking making this emotional connection with the children was very therapeutic for me. Friday was a great day, and I felt renewed to forge on.