Mumbling Madly

SCANDAL ON THE PLAYGROUND: A kid in my class, the one who’s a loner, a quiet, struggling, little boy reacts in anger when kids come up to play with him. He tells them they can’t play with him, to leave, he’s not interested. When they refuse to leave, he flings an ice cream scooper over the fence, hitting a parked car on the other side. (It was a real, metal, ice cream scooper that’s used as a toy on the playground). The kids immediately nark him out–mainly because they want the scooper back. A resident of the nearby apartment complex finds the scooper resting next to his car and hands it back to me over the fence.
The tough part was seeking the kid out after the event, because of course he fled the scene. This is a boy who I want so badly to feel successful, to feel accomplished and liked. The last thing I want to do is discipline him, squash him down. Of course, he refused to come over when I called him, “NO, no!” and than he relented, but wouldn’t look me in the eye during our conversation. Other kids kept coming up to us, and I kept shooing them away–”this is between him and I.” I was floundering, looking for words to use that would make him understand, but being in trouble is exactly what it is: trouble…and no one likes that. I can’t make him like me while I’m explaining how he needs to make safe choices on the playground. He’s very worked up and angry because he’s in trouble. “That’s what I do when I’m mad! I throw things!” He tells me. He sits in the tall grasses, by himself, hiding from the world for the rest of recess. Later he and I talk again, and he admits that maybe he could have just dropped the scooper instead of chucking it over the fence. For the next week he has to tell me how he’s going to be safe on the playground before he goes outside.

Someone give this girl some clearisil! (I think I was sixteen in this picture):

I’m still reflecting on my reunion. Probably one of the neatest things is realizing how special the whole event was. There is no way to recreate the evening, no way to truly continue communicating with people I only passed by in the hallways, no way to really sum up ten years of life experience in one conversation. People I barely new came up and hugged me. Girls that said vicious things about me at one point in my life embraced me. We were truly invested. The few who were weird (like this random guy I vaguely remember, he oozed all over everyone, yuck) were easy to avoid. I was so impressed by the people who already had several kids, and I admired them in an odd way. There’s no way I could have done what they’ve done, raising children, maintaining a household…I still think of myself as too young for kids and WOW here are people I grew up with giving it a try.
I walk into social situations all the time, random parties where I don’t know anyone, and it was nice to be able to walk into a room with people I used to have to be around all the time. It was nice to be able to stand tall, know I’ve been successful, and have people say: “I expected you to become a performer, a teacher; I’m glad that is the case.” Was the reunion just a way to validate myself? Well…yeah, sure…I had a pretty big grudge going for a while. I felt misunderstood, picked on, ugly…right? Didn’t we all feel that way? I don’t know very many people that had a glowing experience during their entire high school run.
I also forgot random things, like the way Gina R. used to laugh–kind of like an inhaled guffaw, or how funny Casey was and still is, or the way I used to compete so badly with Jessica. So there we all were: Eating hor’dorves, drinking beer, and laughing over how we used to chase after each other on the playground.

(Top Row, L-R: Brad (Cool kid), Angie (Crazy girl, made comments on her nursing boobs, popular girl who’s still married to Brad), Casey (went to Ben Franklin with me, funny kid, class clown), Joel (Good as gold, I once lent him my favorite pencil in 2nd grade and he made every effort to give it back) Amy (loud, funny, lives in Ft. Collins surprisingly, was in all my honors classes), Kelly (once warned me about the guy who was going to ask me to homecoming and than stand me up the night before), Ryan (my five year long crush), I-Totally-Forgot-His-Name (looks like he likes wine).
Bottom Row, L-R: Jessica (former dance rival), Mara (looking a lot better), Matt (former art rival).

I was scared all day while waiting for the eve of my reunion. I seriously contemplated not going because I couldn’t bear the idea of going alone into a room of former peers. I was supposed to speak at the event, but I didn’t want to, and I was afraid I might throw up. It didn’t help that it took me over an hour to find the Water Resource Center where the event was being held. Google maps gave faulty directions and Mapquest didn’t even have directions available so I had to call my Mom and back track until I finally found it. When I rolled up into the parking lot a bunch of ‘bad kids’ from back in the day were smoking and lounging around their parked car. It was like dejavu. I was so nervous I stayed inside the car until they wandered away.
Our class president, Jessica, was nursing her son when I walked by her car in the parking lot. And than Claire from my Traffic Safety class showed up and we agreed to walk into the joint together. We made a beeline for the open bar but were intersected by two guys I went to elementary school with, Matt and Joel. Matt and I had actually been artistic rivals in grade school. We both could draw and we both gained recognition from it, and even though we had very different drawing styles we competed for top art awards, best artist titles, and to be chosen to represent our grade level in the main hallway. It really thrilled me that Matt has become a graphic artist.
I met up with my long time crush, Ryan, who also went to the same elementary school as I did. In fact he made quite a splash that night, pregnant wife at his side, all of us oohing and ahhing over him. Still really nice, still good looking, very humble, I’m sure it got tiring having all of us throw ourselves at him throughout the night.
I realized that many of the girls in attendance had spent the entire ten years being a parent. I asked Hilary why she looked so damn good after having three kids. She said, “Well, I had twins so technically I only had two pregnancies.” Good point. Some people looked exactly the same, as if they had been preserved in amber like a mosquito. It was actually a little shocking. Most of us looked older, wiser, holding down good jobs. I found out that my senior homecoming date, Andy, the cute guy we all passed around for dances decided NOT to come at the last minute. Jeff told me he wanted to see me, specifically, but opted out. I was flattered.
The place was so loud and so drunken by the time Jessica and I tried to speak, we almost didn’t bother. I had about half the crowd’s attention and I skimmed through my speech quickly, touching on funny points, and occasionally improvising. It was pretty terrible. I even had a guy, Brad, come up and yell at people to be quiet and listen to me. But, you know, whatever, it was cool. I had people come up afterward and say they enjoyed what I had to say.

Old drama friends, Genevieve, Kay, and Damion.

Lippman (who looks exactly the same), Jeff (who doesn’t look the same), and someone’s random wife. I was impressed that Jeff has five daughters, including one who is age twelve.

Darby, who reminded me that we were once in a Missoula Children’s Theater production of “Beauty Lou And The Country Beast” together.

Out and Proud.

I was actually surprised that there were fewer gay attendees, although as one old friend, Sandy, said, “In ten years you’ll all be divorced and out.” He might be right, but many of my class was not there. Physically speaking, the women fared better than the men for the most part. Many of us looked pretty good in our designer jeans and black tops. The guys haven’t aged quite as well, and many of them openly admitted it. Although, I’m sure that the most confident, the best dressed, and the secure showed up to this event. There was only about a quarter of the class in attendance. It takes a lot of courage to walk into a room filled with people who knew you at your most awkward.
Several women looked as if they were going to pop they were so pregnant. One of them was two days passed her due date. I was impressed by how many couples there were who met in high school and have remained married. Does that really work? I thought statistically you had the cards stacked against you if you wed a high school romance but apparently my class is the exception.
Jessica did a great job covering the room with pictures, pinning up posters and old class photos, and passing around an enormous cardboard eagle for us to pose next to and have our picture taken. The open bar may have been a little problematic, although it did prove to me that some of the really, truly, big assholes in my class were still the big dicks they were in high school. I’m assuming some of this might go away when old age, responsibility, or alcohol related disease sets in. Hence, our twenty year reunion should be mighty interesting.

1) My student with the loud pipes shows up to school in a dress with no underpants on. I know this because she accidentally moons me while playing in the classroom. I pull her aside and into the bathroom and mention that she might have forgotten something this morning. She realizes, but instead of being embarrassed she informs me that she’ll make sure to sit with her dress over her knees and why can’t she not wear underwear…I tell her about privacy. I hand her a pair of panties from her spare clothes bin and say,” I’m going to leave these panties with you.” She screams at me: “They’re not called PANTIES!” “Uh…Underwear?” “YES! Yes! They’re UNDERWEAR.” Got it, kid.
2) It’s never too early to start witnessing catty, petty, name calling between little girls. And little girls hold grudges…they really, really do.
3) It’s still really hard for some kids to figure out going how to effectively go to the bathroom. One little three year old boy in particular tends to disappear during lunch. When pressed to find him, one will discover that he is in the boy’s room, on the floor, writhing around with his pants tangled up around his ankles.
4) A scandal is overheard during journaling: one of the boys wants to draw a “sexy lady.” What does sexy mean? The students at his table decide that “sexy” is another word for cute…and hot.
5) One of my students has two daddies. They are referred to as “papa” and “daddy.” Hands down, they are one of my absolute favorite parents. Unlike folks who actually spawn their own young these guys have a great sense of humor about the parenting thing. Their approach is completely equal and united and it shows.

1) Poor little guy in my class has a really hard time handling a full day of school. (And come to think of it, isn’t a full day in a pre-kindergarten class at age four kind of a lot?) On Monday he turns himself into the sick room during second lunch, lying still as a corpse when I visit him. He confesses that he’s just not ready for full day and wants to go back to half day. After forty minutes of resting up, he grows bored and returns to the classroom for a rousing visit with the Spanish teacher. Today we realize that he has inadvertently been skipping lunch…he doesn’t know that when the bell rings after first recess he has to go inside for lunch. This apparently has attributed to his occasional melt down.
2) I finally crack. The high pitched cadence emitted from this tiny girl broke my last nerve. This is the child who cries over melting beads falling on the floor, who screams at other kids on the playground to ‘get out of her house,’ who loses it when she realizes she wrote the number four backwards. While helping another student she continues to interrupt me with the loudest whining I’ve ever heard in my life. I call her on it. I say I can’t understand anything she’s saying with her whiny voice. She actually shushes up and approaches me differently. The other instructors learn of this during a meeting and I am admonished. It is decided that I need to be more positive.
3) I continue to be a success with my well balanced puppet shows. My puppets rock the house with their upbeat messages about sharing and getting along well with others.
4) I spend a huge chunk of the afternoon in the classroom with the kids by myself. This always terrifies me because I know what these kids are capable of–good and bad. One meltdown and I’m a goner. I begin Free Play with a friendly puppet show on being a good listener. The kids are entranced…the puppets excuse them one by one and they play well and quietly.
5) I have several kids who occasionally get so involved in their activities that they wet their pants. This is really embarrassing for some, and just business as usual for others.
6) Little girl in neighboring class breaks her arm on the playground. She snaps her arm in three places. She misses one day of school and when she returns she’s wearing a terrific cast that goes up past her elbow. I applaud her bravery. She is surrounded by a female entourage that helps support her through this perilous time.
7) I make a little headway with my most challenging student…the loner, the socially-inept, very sweet but very nervous kid who the children have pretty much abandoned. He and I read a few stories, even though I can tell he is really uncomfortable with how close we have to sit next to each other. I beg him to graph out his pattern blocks by gluing paper shapes to the paper with the rest of the kids. He informs me that he does not like glue. He also does not like tape, staples, or any other adhesives. I get him with velcro; he just might consider velcro…
I endure my very first parent night. The worst part about it is that I am at work from 7:45am to 8:45pm. I almost lose my mind. The following day I write on the board: “And The Elephant Ant” instead of “The Ant And The Elephant.” I don’t even notice, and actually get defensive when my lead teacher corrects me.
9) I receive my first love note from a four year old boy in another classroom. He covers it with oo’s and xx’s and reads it aloud as ‘hugs’ and ‘kisses.’ I’m deeply flattered. Last week he had proposed marriage to a fellow Resident Teacher. I walk over to her class and smear my love note in her face.
10) Someone has taught these little kids to use the slang term ‘rocks.’ They’re clustered around a table screeching: “This glitter glue totally rocks!”

Despite recovering from The Plague this weekend, I had a great time on Saturday when Johnny P. came to town. Halfway through the night I lost my voice, but that didn’t stop me from being highly entertained.

My 10 Year Reunion is in a week and somehow I ended up speaking at the event. Now I’m jotting down ideas and getting really nervous. I do not want to blah blah about pride in our school, how much has happened in 10 years, etc. I want my speech to be FUNNY, different, and somewhat engaging. Some tidbits I’ve been collecting:
Top Songs From The Early 90’s (that meant a lot to me at the time and now I don’t know what I was thinking):
Because I love you, Stevie B
More Than Words, Extreme
Save The Best For Last, Vanessa Williams
I Will Always Love You, Whitney Houston
Everything I Do, Bryan Adams
Ok, so I eventually ditched the pop for Nirvana, really I wasn’t a total poof ball. I started listening to some of these tunes and I remember being so DISTRAUGHT as a teenager listening to them. Whitney Houston? My best friend at the time sang that song over the phone to me in 9th grade as an apology for a fight we had. C’mon, everyone has to admit: You slow danced to “Everything I Do.” My first slow dance was a pity dance, a more popular friend in 9th grade got her older, 11th grade, male friend to dance with me because no one else would. That Robin Hood inspired ballad became very meaningful to me.
Anyway, I was trying to think of fashions that were popular during my early high school years and suddenly I remembered Hypercolor t-shirts and big Esprit bags. Dang.
Any ideas on how to write an engaging 10 year reunion speech?

I’ve taken to reading The Illustrated Dictionary Of Math before bed…I know, can you believe it? This book is such a great resource, and I’m being very diligent: If I don’t understand what I’m reading I read it repeatedly until I feel like I have it absorbed. Hobbes is very blasé about the whole thing, as you can see…

Oh My God.
A few of the highlights from the first week of Kindergarten:
1) During a puppet show where I played Mrs. Bear, a certain child whispered into the puppet’s ear: “I hate you Mrs. Bear! I’m going to take permanent marker and write all over your fur!
2) The big scandal of the week: One of my students and a fellow accomplice peed in the bamboo garden during recess. Their defense? “We were HIDING, why would we ask a teacher to go to the bathroom inside when we were HIDING?!”
3) I had to pull, drag, and pry a kid apart from the group because he wouldn’t stop picking another boy’s nose. “Look, I’m sure Brandon can pick his own nose,” I rationalized.
4) This poor little girl’s father forgot to put her lunch in her backpack. When she realized she didn’t have a lunch she cried for an hour…and not just a little boo hoo but a full-bodied, nose dripping, bawling that lasted despite our attempts to comfort her. When you’re four, not having a lunch is a very big deal. Even though we provided her with options she refused to eat. I even performed (yet another) puppet show involving Mr. Apple and Mrs. Granola Bar which enthralled the kids around her but did not console my little absent lunch friend.
5) I had a very brief but serious conversation with a five-year-old girl about how her father is back in the hospital so he can fight cancer. “He’s very, very strong,” She told me.
6) I have the biggest crybaby I’ve ever met in my class. She starts with a whimper and escalates to a full on screaming, screeching, tantrum in less than 20 seconds. What does she cry about? The story wasn’t long enough, the lights turned off in the classroom bother her, a single solitary melting bead fell out of its tray, another girl wants to play with her but she’s tired of playing and wants to be alone.
7) I found so much joy in helping one of my secret favorite kids sound out words and learn how to spell out the titles of his drawings. It’s tough though; like who the hell thought it was a good idea to spell “castle” with two silent letters instead of simply spelling it “casl”?
Once a loner always a loner? This is something I can’t figure it out. We’re supposed to help these kids foster new friendships and help improve their social skills. Some of these little kids really have no interest in playing with a group, or maybe they’re just consumed with fear or invested in their own private play. A lot of times their games and stories revolve around one isolated character (a mad scientist, a doctor, etc) that they play and no one else is invited.
9) Despite repeated handwashing I am still suffering from a wicked cold. Shit. I thought I had built up my immunity over the past couple of years teaching this sticky, snotty, gooey age group. Now I’m not so sure. Unlike my past teaching gigs however, I actually have sick time. However I can tell it is discouraged, and even my recent ear appointments have thrown a kink in the tightly wound network of this school.
10) I was sitting on the floor with two kids leaning on me listening to the other teacher read a picture book aloud and I thought: Wow, look at me. I have a great job.

Yesterday was one of those super productive days that ended in a crash-and-burn-I’ve-been-doing-too-much sort of days. We went all the way to Bellevue to have the oil changed in our car…boring trip to electronic store ensued, but at least I bought three frames for four dollars. Than we went to the Farmer’s Market singing praises of homemade salsa to our new Farmer Friend…he, in kind, hooked us up with slightly dented tomatoes and additional produce to make more roasted salsa. Awesome! I bought peaches and donated to the hurricane relief all at one produce stand. While Josh read AIDS walk literature, I was haggling over blueberries and raspberry cobbler. I bought flowers. We went to Trader Joe’s…than Safeway. Hours of laundry followed and than Josh decided to rearrange the entire living room.
This involved taking everything out of the entertainment center, moving the couch, configuring all the plants. All of this was sparked when I mentioned we needed to hang artwork. Josh came out with: “I want a change! I hate the entertainment center, I want a new one.” After finally merging our finances after six years of going dutch and financing separately I was not about to buy a joint entertainment center. So, moving things around was the answer to finding a way to accept the old furniture. But, it took a long time.
Than we rounded up Kris to go to Costco but they were closed! It broke my heart; I had actually been really excited about buying bulk quantities of Mochi. Ikea was a tough consolation prize but Kris needed a dresser and we needed an end table to cover up the back of our stereo speaker; (it now faces the front door in our new living room configuration). Ikea came up short–although Kris did score with a table found in the seconds area.
I spent all day with a feeling of dread creeping up on me. Perhaps it’s the realization that the kids will be in the building tomorrow, throwing everything off with their four-year-old lisps and brightly colored overalls. Sure, they’ll be serving us free (!) lattes in the morning, but can that really make up for the barrage of children and their families that will descend upon us? Well, maybe…
You know what I was remembering: First Day Of School Outfit. What a big deal. I’d carefully look over my recently purchased school clothes and select the finest choice. I vaguely remember showing up to 9th grade in a polka dot crop shirt with a matching polka dot flared skirt that had a huge elastic waist band…oh and white keds. In 8th grade I wore a vest…remember when wearing a vest over a blouse was popular? Yikes. I remember squeezing into a pair of zipper jeans and than folding in the bottoms to make a perfect cuff. 10th grade was a big year: braces off and make-up was allowed. YES! All the guys are going to like me! It didn’t pan out that way, but I had really hoped for an 80’s movie style, rag to riches, nerd turns popular, scenario.
Anyway, all of this seems pathetic and small compared to the humongous disaster our country is enduring right now in the South. Josh and I were trying to remember if things were as traumatizing ten years ago. I certainly don’t remember anything comparable…sure there were the LA riots and the occasional earthquake, but I don’t remember anything as disturbing as the events that have gone down in the last five years.