The Little Destroyer

A child decided while I wasn’t looking to completely cover both his hands with black marker. Luckily it wasn’t one of my permanent Sharpie pens. But you could imagine my reaction when I saw his new black gloves. I almost lost it, but since I knew there were still more hours left in the day therefore more time for more incidents to come I thought I‘d better save some of my mental tension to release at the proper time. Choose your battles.

And yea for me, I was right. My prediction paid off. It took less than an hour for this very same child, also I must add the very child who pulled the security alarm on Tuesday, to manage yet even more destructive behavior.

All the students had just organized the various strewn toys, cleaned up the play center, the train tracks and block shapes were neatly put back into their bins and the room had been swept and disinfected as we sat to have a quiet end of the day let Miss Lori have a moment of peace story time.

At which time the, as I like to call him little destroyer decided since the black marker hand behavior didn’t cause enough of a response from me, he had to do something to top it, of course. The day is not complete until Miss Lori’s blood has curdled into a flaming ulcer with her heart racing at full speed where she is forced to say those magic words ‘What on earth are you thinking?’ Only than can the children at my center feel justified that they have successfully fulfilled their mission and reached the Miss Lori cross the line limit button. And just as with most days, they did. Thanks to the little destroyer.

The room is calm the children are gathering in circle for a story. I take a half a minute to grab a book from my desk area. A half a minute in a child’s world is a long enough time to create disaster. Before I could stop him this little cute, what appears to be sweet looking boy turned into a gremlin. He had fiercely opened sixteen separately labeled zip lock bags that contain different puzzles and dumped them all together into a volcanic mess in the center of the room.

I almost lost it, but decided to let him live. Only because his grandpa showed up to pick him up. If grandpa had not picked up whose to say.

On New Years Eve, I got to stay late after the preschool closed as it took a total of forty minutes to collect and reorganize the large stack of puzzle pieces into their proper bags. Oh joy.

I realize in retrospect it wasn’t that big of a deal. But any teacher can tell you. It’s not the one situation but the collaboration of many mini disrespectful behaviors that build up inside a teacher that over time can no longer be repressed and that’s when finally an explosion occurs-usually near the end of the day. Our defenses are down we are exhausted, we don’t care anymore we just want silence. Kids are exceptionally talented at knowing how to maneuver just the right timing of events to activate a teacher’s adrenal glands. It’s not so much what they do or say but at what point they choose to put their destructive, disrespectful, rude behavior into action that pushes our fire cracker release button. Children thrive on this, they love it. That’s why it puzzles us adults when they stare blankly back with no sense of remorse after we react upset. It is because they are gloating with satisfaction that they won the limit race.

All I wanted to do after that day was have only adult interactions.

Luckily I got just that and went out dancing.

Three days, no kids.

Happy New Year to me