Mumbling Madly

I’ve traced the root of my sickness to the great possibility it may have been contracted during the All Kindergarten Feast. Last Wednesday 100 Pre-K and K students and their teachers sat down at long, well-decorated, tables and ate Thanksgiving food that was PREPARED BY THE STUDENTS. Each class was assigned a dish, from turkeys to cranberries they had it covered. My class specifically prepared the mashed spuds.
The previous day the Lead Teacher and I opened several large bags of russet and white potatoes, handed the kids dull peelers, and told them to get to work. I actually didn’t realize that kids this young could even handle a peeler much less successfully peel something. I was wrong, some of them were very competent but most of them were slow. Two very eager peelers set the precedent, and pretty soon there was a line of kids waiting for a peeler to open up. First they agreed that each volunteer could peel three potatoes before passing on the tool. This resulted in a lot of waiting around…so they lowered the maximum to two. One girl advised the kids to “peel away from you” which was disputed by a few but well received by others. I watched a band-aid struggle to hang onto a damaged thumb while one boy cheerfully peeled away. “That band-aid better not end up in the mashed potatoes,” I heard myself warn. “This is fun!” Several kids exclaimed, and I noticed the most enthusiastic peelers happened to be the youngest children in their respective families. ( This ties into the whole theory that the youngest tend to be more motivated, more driven to do things like chores and homework because they see older siblings do it and they want to as well…until they realize that neither homework, chores, or excessive potato peeling is fun). By mid-day I had taken over one of the peelers, because I realized we had a mound of potatoes left and minimal–if not passionate–progress had been made by the students.
The next day we prepared the potatoes for boiling. The kids scrubbed the dirt and grime off the naked potatoes. I made trips back and forth to the kitchen, each time bringing another fresh set of spuds to be mashed. The kids who were not interested in peeling became very interested in mashing. They hacked away at bowl after bowl of softened potatoes. We stirred in milk, we stirred in a stick of butter, and we mashed away. Granted their strength was minimal so there were many large chunks left in the mashed potatoes. I watched one boy lick the spoon and continue stirring. We made way too much in hindsight, but the children had a good time. I vowed to avoid the potatoes at all costs because I had no trust they were void of kid cooties. Unlike cranberries where you can boil away the germs, or a turkey where little to no kid contact was had, these potatoes sat at room temperature for hours before they were finally placed on the Turkey Table in the main room.
The feast was pretty good, it almost felt like cheating having so much Thanksgiving food before the actual day. There were a few students who ate sandwiches from home instead, which always surprises me: What the heck is your problem with Thanksgiving chow? It’s the best stuff in the world!
OK, so I don’t know if the feast is what gave me strep throat. I learned that I was only one of many staff and students who came down with the dreaded bug over the holiday. The nasty infection must have been traveling in the air. But I avoided the mashed potatoes, I swear I did!

I never realized the health hazards of my job until suffering from strep throat on Thanksgiving Day. I used to get strep quite a bit when I was in college. But I had forgotten how terrible it is to be unable to swallow, to feel blood in the back of your throat, to have a high fever. I wanted to quit my job. I still want to quit, a little bit, because I used to think that one major illness meant I was spared for a good year. Now, I know that it’s only a matter of time until the next Big Thing comes rolling through my bod. Sure, I got a flu shot last Monday, sure I frequently wash my hands and try not to touch my face. What else can I do? As of last week three teachers had come down with strep, it was only a matter of time I suppose.
The positive was that my parents were awesome and took really great care of me and isn’t it the best to be sick with your Mom hovering around? It makes me sad that my Thanksgiving vacation time became my recovery time but I suppose it secures a healthier outcome. Even now I’m spending an in-service day at home, my rationale was simple: Sit in a conference room debating the school’s cirriculum, or stay at home near the toilet and the antibiotics. This is the first day since getting sick where I haven’t had to sleep four hours in the afternoon to get through the day. Laundry is churning downstairs, Hobbes finally gave up her quest to go outdoors, and my jewelry is freshly drying on my art board. Snow is in the forcast but I don’t believe it for a moment. Ha! Sure, there’s a small part of me that hopes for a snow day, a time to avoid dragging my butt out of bed, but I also want some normality.

I celebrated Thanksgiving by coming down with strep throat on Turkey Day. I haven’t been this sick in years.

(Photo courtesy of my brother, Sam)

I always thought green tea tasted like barf…in fact I was never all that crazy about tea in general. I remember being really, really, disappointed with tea as a child. The boxes were always labeled with really tasty sounding names: “Strawberry Fields” or “Lemon Zest.” I think I expected the tea to taste like Kool-Aid. Tea would always show up when I was sick so I developed an association, (other foods that remind me of illness are apple juice, honey, and Campbell’s chicken and noodle soup).
Since embarking on becoming a teacher of small children, I’ve faced new levels of illness. For weeks at a time I’ve experienced agonizing sore throats and runny noses. I won’t go into the level of disgustingness I’ve viewed with my students picking and digging away at blood crusted nostrils, let’s just say we’re all sick. The little ones are dropping like flies left and right. A new health notice goes out every time an illness circulates, last week was strep throat…this week: pinworm.
When I’m not sick, I’m furiously exercising, sleeping, or eating apples. All of these steps will help combat the barrage of germs I face daily. And I’ve found tea…yes, the green tea craze has finally reached me. Ever since a doc on Oprah bragged about how one could lose 10 pounds in 6 weeks by replacing coffee with green tea I’ve been intrigued. I tried green tea at an Asian restaurant and thought it tasted like dirt. I’ve had friends (specifically other teachers) tell me, “I’ve recently discovered tea” and secretly thought they were frou-frou. My father goes through periods were he forgoes coffee for tea to remedy a heart condition and I’ve pitied him. My love for coffee has only blossomed and become snooty: I prefer to make cappuccinos with Peet’s Espresso Forte only. Yes, I waste time every morning around 6:45am steaming soy milk into my coffee mug. I appreciate regular coffee, but I have an internal fear of my teeth becoming yellow and my addiction reaching to preposterous heights.
Recent health problems have led me away from coffee on a regular basis. Several months ago, when I was just starting to come down with something, another Resident Teacher slipped me a little green tea packet. I initially rejected it but realized the time had come to try something other than orange juice and vitamins. To my surprise, the green tea made me feel amazing and I was able to finish out my school day. Lately, I’ve been drinking green chai in the morning and decaf green tea in the afternoon. It still tastes a little like moss but I’m getting used to it. The health benefits are hard to ignore:
1) Green tea has high levels of polyphenols. Polyphenols prevent the oxidation of cholesterol, thereby reducing blood vessel damage. This makes green tea a potent weapon against stroke and other cardiovascular ailments.
2) Green tea stimulates the immune system and helps defend against dental plaque–and it gives you great breath!
3) Green tea protects against liver damage. New research shows that it may help decrease liver transplant failure in patients.
4) It has a thermogenic effect that aids in weight loss.
5) It helps hormone activity and decreases acne.
6) Green tea has been proven to prevent certain types of cancer including colon, pancreatic, and stomach cancer.
7) Green tea also acts as a mild diuretic, ridding the body of excess water.
Regular consumption of green tea can reduce overall cholesterol levels as well as levels of LDL (harmful) cholesterol.
9) A reduction of overall blood pressure and heart disease is one of the most important benefits of green tea consumption and studies have proven that, for those who consume several cups daily, the risk for stroke and heart disease may be reduced by one-half.
Supposedly, the above list has all been backed up with recent scientific research. I’m a bit of a health nut, and despite sounding frou-frou myself, I can’t resist: Green tea here I come!

I sit here, with a glass of excellent red wine from Chile, and Hobbes precariously sitting on my crossed legs. Tomorrow the entire school is attending the Suessical musical…yes, they made a musical, and the day after that I’ll be at school from 7:30am until 8:30pm for an activity night. (Hobbes must have sensed my exhaustion and just took off). I just spent an hour cutting owl footprints out of neon yellow paper that had been freshly laminated by a 50 year old laminating machine the size of a fridge.
Today has been the day of False Alarms: A girl cries her heart out because she has lost her lunch box…it was on the floor under her chair. A little boy is filled with angst when he realizes he’s ‘lost’ his basketball pillow…it’s sitting in his cubby. Today, the Screecher held up a tiny little Sesame Street book about Grover after I read aloud Horton Hears a Who and bemoans, “It’s SO SAD we can’t read this book!” and burst into tears. As adults, can we even remember a time when life was this tragic? Is it really possible that all of us were such enormous cry-babies? And don’t tell me you never were, I’ve seen the toughest little boys and girls shed fresh tears over a broken pipe cleaner hat.
Josh’s mother told me Josh was an incredibly laid back child…as a baby he lay sound asleep while his Mom vacuumed under his crib. I, on the other hand, was a mess of hysteria, a bossy, creative, emotional child…my parents were not spared a minutes peace. Even now there are times when I want to join a child and cry…
I had a mother tell us she grabbed her toddler’s wrist to help her up the stairs and she pulled the kid’s arm out of its socket. The mother was so embarrassed admitting this to us, but I could tell it made her feel better to reveal it to someone. How tough would that be as a mom? Take your kid to the doctor and he says, “Go to the ER, you’ve dislocated your kid’s shoulder.”
True to our desire to maintain healthier bodies, Josh and I tried out our new DVD: Pilates for Dummies. Ouch, dude, it is harder than you would think! We struggled and rolled around on our living room floor like beached whales trying to hold some of these poses.
I’m hungry…I’m going to make tortellini for dinner.

I ended up getting smooched multiple times by a little heartbreaker on Friday. “Kyle” visits my classroom for Literature Talks and Language Laboratory. Both of those terms are fancy for small group work with different students. Lit. Talk is actually like a mini Book Club for kids. We get together and talk about whatever book we sent home the previous week and than they reflect in their journals.
Yesterday this little girl totally fell out of her chair. We laughed it off initially, but than she started bawling. She approached me with these big crocodile tears while Kyle and I were going over his journal. “What’s wrong?” Kyle asked, in her face, because this kid has no concept of personal space. She continued to cry and couldn’t even catch her breath to tell me where she was hurt. So Kyle took matters into his own hands and planted a big wet one on her cheek. The girl started giggling through her tears. Kyle yelled, “I did it!” and kissed her again. The little girl cracked up. Kyle was ecstatic, “I DID it!” and he demonstrated using me. Now I have to tell you that Kyle was a little crusty that day, he’s recovered from an oozing ear infection recently but I believe he’s coming down with pink eye and a wicked cold. I almost died inside when he kissed me. Than Kyle pretended to trip over his chair and started fake crying: “Now kiss me, Mara!” I had to put a stop to this: “Kyle, some people might not be comfortable with kissing, we need to discuss options.” I blew him a kiss but Kyle was adamant, “No, no, KISS me.” How could I explain this: “Kyle, do you think that maybe kissing passes germs? Is this maybe not a healthy thing to do?” The other kids nodded in agreement and started blowing kisses. Kyle was impatient, “No, I need to be kissed.” I said, “Well, we’re discussing options now.” Kyle looked me square in the eye and commanded, “DO it!” Wow, I’ve never been ordered to kiss a five-year 0ld before, but I opted for a hug. (We also talked about how you need to ask permission before hugging someone).

Laying out the Letter Of The Week to the kiddies.

I unexpectedly ended up doing second recess yesterday. Typically I do first recess on Wednesday. Second recess is usually pretty terrible because the kids aren’t fresh…usually they eat for fifteen minutes and than go tearing back outside. Some terrible fiascos:
1) There is a group of boys we privately refer to as “The Frat.” Do I need to expound? Anyway, this gang of guys really likes throwing the old rubber ball around. They organize long, detailed games involving one kid throwing the ball in the air and the other kids clamor and scrape to catch it before it lands on the ground. The Frat is led by two boys, let’s call them Tony and Ahmed, who are generally well liked, older (meaning five going on six), leaders of the school. Their biggest threat is not another competitor, but actually a younger boy who insists on tagging along regardless of The Frat’s genuine dislike of him. This boy is socially and mentally a little behind his peers. Even though he just turned five his mentality still borders on two. He bitterly cries whenever he catches on that he is the butt of The Frat’s jokes. He’s not as fast or as quick as the others and typically the ball sails over his head. Today he bawled his eyes out when the leaders of The Frat told him he couldn’t be a coach. When I approached Tony and Ahmed they took off running to the lower playground. Ok, now what goes through a kid’s head when they choose to flee? Their flight totally busted them. Luckily, I turned them over to their teacher and resumed my playground duty.
2) One of my students brought to my attention several large wagons that were precariously hanging inside the play structure. Seriously, it was a huge hazard. Two boys had dragged the li’l red flyers up the slide and somehow managed to stuff them in the jungle gym. It was so dangerous that I had difficulty dragging the wagons out of the play equipment and had to clear the whole structure of small children. The worst part was that the two culprits took off in different directions and hid in the tall bamboo. I gave them an out: “Whoever is hiding from me, come out right now.” The bamboo giggled. It wasn’t hard to sus them out. I turned them in and today they gave me detailed apology notes about how they respected me “keeping them safe.”
3) One boy tripped over one of our tiniest students and hit his head on the pavement. He lay on the ground, crying, and refused to get up. I thought: “Oh my God, just watch it be a concussion, and during my recess duty of all times!” Think I was overreacting? His nose started flippin’ bleeding! I was certain he was hemorrhaging from the brain. Of course he was fine, but it still scared the shit out of me.
4) It was the Recess of The Multiple Narks and I was Tattletale Central. Every squabble, every itch, was reported to me by several overzealous students. Do I need to hear about every hurt feeling when I have a kid bleeding on the pavement? I had to explain to one little boy that physical pain comes first in my book, emotional pain comes second and could he wait while I hauled off another student to First Aid?
5) I was hit in the head by a jumprope. The best part was that the kid acted as if it was my fault.

Several things occur around the beginning of the holidays. For years this was around the time that I would become desperately homesick. I can see this in a few of my co-workers who are operating far from home. They start talking a lot about their folks back in Wisconsin, how much they miss them, what they usually have for Thanksgiving. This is the first year since 1999 that I am located closely to my family. No more holiday flights, airport jams, or travel exhaustion. When I lived in Colorado I always had a low nagging that I was simply too far away from home. Holiday season just increased the feeling. There were times when I would return to F.C. after two weeks in Portland and I would boo hoo the moment I walked into my front door.
Another thing that occurs is an overwhelming desire to shop. I’d like to say I’m shopping for others for the holiday but nay, I’m thinking solely of myself. Sure, I take inventory of a few items that friends and family might enjoy. But, largely, the shopping is done with my own personal needs in mind. Take yesterday for example: Kris and I wandered all over Seattle and I probably picked up a small item at every mall shop and department store we perused. OK, perhaps that’s an exaggeration; there was no way I could afford anything in the Diesel store. Everything I bought was on sale: 3 pack of socks for six bucks at Hot Topic, three dollar t-shirt from Urban Outfitters, discounted sweater from Express, and well, it was pouring rain, so I had to buy an umbrella at Nordstrom’s Rack. Than I bought a down comforter off overstock and threw in a Pilates DVD with it, (c’mon it’s 1 dollar shipping all weekend!) I have to say that in retrospect my shopping is really pretty practical. Did I buy the tempting pair of $100 jeans? Or the $75 Sanita boots? No, and they were on sale too!

We did a level switch today, so all the Resident Teacher’s from Lower Elementary went to the Upper Elementary today. I ended up in a first/second grade class. Unfortunately I was experiencing the opposite of yesterday: Too much sleep. You know when you’ve slept so much you have a headache? Granted, I needed to go to bed at 8:30pm last night, I hadn’t slept a wink the night before. We had a total of three trick or treaters. The last one was a teenager with no costume, just a backpack and a starter jacket. Kris asked him, “Hey, where’s your costume?” The kid shrugged and said, “I don’t have one.” We gave him candy for his honesty. Josh insisted we watch horror movies all night. That’s fine when it’s something goofy like Nightmare On Elm Street. It’s not cool when it’s Resurrection of Halloween, or whatever one has Michael roaming around in his white mask. When I left Josh he was deeply involved with Scream 2.
So anyway, I showed up to school in a daze. It rained passionately all day and all night, the winter slowly invaded the day with premature darkness at night and eerie light in the morning. I observed a few things about the first and second grade:
1) The Math is a little harder and the expectation is much higher. Gone are the days when you could just write down the numbers and call it good. These kids are required to map out the entire equation using base ten rods, single units, and hundreds cubes. They have to draw these components on the paper along with the numbers. Granted, many of them are still remembering to put the day’s date and their name on the paper. I was impressed…and relieved that much of the math was not over my head.
2) The weird kids get even weirder…one girl is dead set on the Goth Path. It’s like she was made for black make-up and fishnet gloves. Never have I met a gloomier seven-year-old. Another girl, who reeked of cat urine, told me I would make a good vampire for Halloween.
3) Teacher worship is fading with first graders. They’re quicker to judge, defy, and ignore you. I’m used to the four-year-olds flinging themselves at me for hugs and reassurance that they’re fabulous.
4) I came out of class significantly less sticky.
5) Gone are the toys…no lincoln logs, legos, constructobots, and other fun stuff. First grade contained only the bare essentials, like books, plants, and a fish tank.