Aaaand, it's official. School is back in session. Now that I have had 1.5 days of the third grade under my belt, I felt that it was time to compose a blog entry of the events from the past day and a half.
As most of you know, I have taught the 4th grade for the past three years. (That's ages 9 and 10). But this year, I am teaching third grade. (Change of scenery, if you will). These kids are 8 going on 9-- and some of them (the ones with those late birthdays) are still 7! Can you remember what it felt like to be seven? So while seven and eight year olds may not seem like a big age difference from the 4th grade-- believe you me--developmentally it is--and my students seem like tiny little peanuts. Adorable, but tiny little peanuts none the less.
I have eleven students. Eight boys and three girls. Eight of my students (thus far) are adorable, precious and sweet. The other three students range from mild-freak-a-zoid, to severe freak-a-zoid lacking any and all social skills. Also this year, I will be using faux names my students. ( For I greatly fear being fired).
One of my students-- let's just call him Chucky, had an eventful summer. He visited his aunt and uncle on their farm in the mid-west. His uncle brought Chucky outside to milk one of their cows. Chucky milked him alright--using his mouth. That's right, Chucky sucked the udders dry on some poor cow. How do I know this? Chucky's mom decided that this was noteworthy information, and e-mailed me with this news the day before school started. So, if I didn't already think he was a freak ( after talking to his teachers from last year) I fucking do now.
An aside: All of this cow milking got me to thinking about my 7th grade Halloween costume. I came dressed to middle school as cow. Not your average cute cow costume, but I came dressed in a cow costume, that had rubber udders covering my entire abdomen. I spent the entire day avoiding the 8th grade boys who shouted,"can I suck your udders?" at me. What was Little Mimi Girl thinking letting me leave the house in such a vile costume?
Another one of my students, Chris--asked me where the president lived. I told him that the president lives in Washington DC.
NO, he said, his face turning into a scowl. I could see from his expression that I wasn't quite understanding his question. Just then the principal breezed past our room. His face lit up. He pointed at her--The president! Where does she live?
Oh. The Principal? Yes, her office is located on the second floor.
I overheard Jimmy calling someone a "bozo." Anyone who uses the word bozo in 2009, is a-okay in my book.
While completing a drawing assignment on the first day of school, a group of students broke into "We will rock you" complete with desk banging. I told them that they had to lower their voices. "Do we have to stop singing," they asked? I struggled with answering this question. While I felt that their singing may have been distracting to some of my other students, I thought who doesn't like to hear a good Queen ballad at nine am? And, thus--I told them they could sing as long as they did it quietly. While walking around the room, I heard soft whispers of "We Will Rock You."
And lastly, a berage (is that a word?) of the random, funny and interesting things that I have overheard in the past day and a half.
..."I don't have a dad, I have two moms, because my moms hate boys!"
...Said to me..."Did you have red hair when you were seven?"
...My mommy told me that being tired isn't a reason to go to the nurse."
...and lastly, when reading out loud the directions for the classroom scavenger hunt that I had created for the kids to do, one of my students who has a lisp, shouted out--"Thith ith lame!"
Shot down. By a seven year old with a bad speech impediment.
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