i bought some BUBBLE GUM
BAZOOKA ZOOKA BUBBLEGUM
|Jason:||Hey, can I tell you a poem?|
|Me:||Of course! I love poems!|
|Jason:||Well...it's not really a poem, it's just a kind of a rhythm thing, but it's hilarious.|
|Me:||Let's hear it.|
|Jason:||There once was...um...there was an old man from Peru, who dreamed he was eating his shoes, he woke up in the...no...he woke up with a fright in the middle of the night, to see if his dream had come true!|
We’re making a giant rocket, glittery stars, a sun with shaving cream/food coloring/glue, and aliens for our classroom. We’re reading all about the solar system.
Prepare for trouble, and make it double.
|Me:||It's rest time, please lie down on your mats and listen to the music.|
|Phoebe:||Snails don't like music.|
|Phoebe:||No, they don't.|
|Ramona:||It's because they're small and slow and they don't like the sounds.|
|Phoebe:||Yeah, it makes them go crazy. And we don't like to go crazy. We're gonna curl up in our shells now.|
"My throat is so scratchy, what should I do?" She asks me. I tell her she should drink some tea. She gives me a dirty look. I explain that, even though it’s hot outside, tea is very helpful (also, we happened to be inside and in an air-conditioned room).
She meanders around the room after I tell her, “Something hot or something cold. Or Tylenol.”
"Do you think pretzels will help?" She opens the snack cabinet.
Um…no. No I don’t think pretzels will help.
The next day, she comes in and tells me, “My mom gave me tea the other day, I feel so much better now!”
Now she’s all healthy again and ready to tell kids who look like boys that they can’t use pink crayons.
…tell me how she is allowed to work with children
also it was wacky tacky day at camp and i got paid to wear purple skirt, orange tights, pipe cleaners on my glasses, and my shirt backwards.
Once upon a time there was a camper named Mateo who sometimes says he’s a boy and sometimes says, “I’m not a little boy, I’m a girl!”
Today, he got up in the middle of a game of Candy Land and went to the dress-up section. He came to me with the only princess dress there and asked if I could help him put it on. ”Of course!” I replied, as we tried together to figure out whether it was inside out (this was difficult since the puffy skirt had so many layers). When he finally slid his arms through the lacey, flowery sleeves, one of the boys said, “You’re a princess!”
"Are you a princess, Mateo?" I asked. He nodded his head. "Princess Mateo!"
I put a pretend crown on his head. ”Why is he wearing that dress?” A girl asked me.
"Because he wants to," I explained while I watched him playing with the toy dinosaurs, yellow crinoline piling around his knees.
Soon, boys were taking turns clap-clapping around the classroom in plastic princess heels and sparkly dress-up skirts. Later, I heard Mateo scrambling towards the dress-up shoes. He almost got in a fight with a boy over a pair of plastic Cinderella slippers, but he was fine when he realized that there was a pair of Snow White shoes.
One girl went up to Princess Mateo and scolded, “You’re wearing a Belle dress and Belle is for girls!” I had taught them that everything in our classroom - stories about princesses, trains, cars, baby dolls, even the androgynous little Duplo people - were for boys and girls and everybody. So anyone who heard her admonishment said, “No, Belle is for everybody!”
My new co-counselor even whispered to me about Princess Mateo. I told her that Mateo sometimes says he’s not a boy, but whatever, Mateo can be anything. I don’t know why she cared so much.
But I hope that boys and girls and everybody everywhere can live happily ever after.
|Ellie (yawning and rolling on her mat at rest time):||I didn't sleep so good last night.|
|Me:||Oh no, why's that?|
|Ellie:||I had a lot of bad dreams.|
|Me:||I'm so sorry. I don't like those kinds of dreams, either.|
|Ellie:||One of them was about a big rock about to fall on me at any second. And in the other I was being chased by a cow. A mean cow. And then some flowers tried to wrap around me.|