I'm melting

I know what you're thinking. She is straight out of Oz and her students threw water on her. Not the case. I actually am quite frightened by flying monkeys (or any monkey for that matter). I have been feeling pretty wicked recently (but it is not just because of the incessant chatter that fills a classroom in May).

What it does have to do with is my classroom temperature. The powers that be have decided that heat makes sense when it is lower than 75 degrees outside. HEAT people. I got it to stay off today but it was a "Why did I bother to blow my hair straight, anyway?" sort of day. I needed a little air flow. So I cracked open the windows (makes sense right?). Wrong. I got in trouble for needing fresh air. Apparently, the latches on the windows are for looks only. So, it's muggy and uncomfortable in my classroom and it makes me irritable.

I know what some of you are thinking (Teacher from the Ghetto, I'm looking at you). We don't even have air conditioning in our building and my room was 500 degrees, you say. Ok so at this point, neither do we. Also, in my defense, I am half way through my teaching career. I did my time at a school where the assistant superintendent based his "early out for heat" decision on the thermometer in my classroom. I'm soft now. Before, I could handle 123 degrees (true story). Now, 76 is too, too much.

Oh summer vacay, when will you be here so I can choose what temperature I want to be?

Dear Mr. Janitor,

I am very sorry about the mess left in my classroom today. I know it is more than the usual "remnants of learning fulfilled" that litter my floor every night (random completed worksheets left behind by the one who checks his mail and inadvertantly leaves it on the table/floor/wherever, a few spelling tiles here or there, and my personal favorite...free reading books on the tables).

I know. The confetti is everywhere. I know. It's just, you see, my head exploded (on accident...I try to keep it in check, mostly) and it left pieces of my personality all over the room (I like to imagine I am full of confetti which beats the tar out of anything else).

So, I promise to do my best from here on out to push down the feelings which eventually lead to tickertape parades in my classroom. I think I can make it 15 more days.

Love,
Frau M.

P.S. To make it up to you, I will dust the blinds.

Things that make you go ???????

It takes an awful lot to leave me speechless. I have, after all, been a 911 operator (there's a job that gives you a dark sense of humor). But once, I was rendered without anything to say.

We were writing about a time we had fun with our family. Imagine my surprise when one of my students brought me a story that read something like this, "I went to a party with my family. We played tippy cups, but I played with pop." Did this student really mean he played a drinking game except with pop at a party with his parents?

This is me inside my head, "WHAT!? They played a drinking game at a party?! Maybe there is a chance for me to be Mother of the Year, after all." What I actually said, "That does sound like a fun thing. I bet you enjoyed the cake, too."

The lesson in all this is that children tell everything. There are no secrets (sorry to my Cubscout's teacher because I'm sure she knows more about me than I care to think about).