where i spend my days
i usually get to school around 7:20 most mornings. the coffee pots are all full and fresh. there are only a handful of the early kiddos there, still sleepy and easing into their days. my classroom is cold and dark. i can turn up the heat, or just enjoy my sweater. i turn on the track lights instead of the cold fluorescents. i check the plan for the day. i gather important supplies, like tin foil, shaving cream, big cardboard boxes, bubble wrap, and rubber gloves. i check my email. i set up the tables and chairs for breakfast. i might vacuum. i might hang some new photos on the wall. i might re-arrange the dress-up area. i might straighten the bookshelf. mostly i revel in the quiet calmness of the space, imagining what 8 small bodies will bring to the day. how many times they will poop. how they slept last night. if anyone is cutting a tooth. i caffeinate and hydrate at the same time. i pee at least twice. i make sure that the toys that got slobbered yesterday (most of them) are now clean and back where they belong.
this is what the room looks like when it’s still dark and quiet and clean:
[the reading nook, curtains i made, chairs i stole from the waiting room, and our front door]
[looking in from the front door, where we eat, wash hands, build with blocks, etc]
[the kitchen area, with sensory bottles, artwork, and portraits]
[the loft. they climb and cuddle and sled down the slide on pillows.]
observations about my work:
- current job hazard(s) are extreme dry hands. i probably wash my hands every 5-10 minutes. at least. skin food is my new best friend. i don’t even care that is is 6 dollars/oz. my hands are red, rashy, cracked, and old looking. i am obsessed with moisturizing. i use boo boo goo like lotion. i need some gloves to sleep in.
- daily i am struck by how much you can see of a person at 13-23 months.
we are ourselves so soon.
- so much of what we say to babies we are really saying to ourselves.
- i sing songs all day long. i can’t sing. i don’t know many songs. i make them up and i have eight groupies who think that i am the bomb. it’s pretty great. when i stop singing, they scream MORE (at the top of their lungs). i mean, really.