Today, I volunteered in the children's kindergarten class for their Valentine's Day party. My job was to help the little ones put together a craft that consisted of gluing two hearts together, adding smaller heart hands and heart feet, a little heart nose and googley eyes. There were a total of five "craft" stations. My station was established at one of the tables, so the children would "rotate" through to me.
Various parent volunteers were set up at the other tables. The first table consisted of making Valentine's Day cookies. The second and third tables consisted of making Valentine's Day magnets and bookmarks, respectively. The fourth table consisted of playing "Valentine's Day Bingo!"
Me and my pile of little hearts, googley eyes, and paper cups full of glue with Q-tips for dipping, were at the fifth table.
My first round of children required a moderate amount of instruction and supervision. My second, third and fourth round of children required only a brief tutorial on what they were making, and then absolutely no additional supervision. By the time I had finished handing out the googley eyes, everyone was done.
I was breezing right along when the fifth round of children reached me. When I had to stop not one ... not two ... but three separate kids from eating glue directly off the Q-tips, it dawned on me that the sugar and red dye they had consumed four tables prior had probably kicked in and they were now crawling out of their skin. When I looked over at the women who were coordinating tables two, three and four, my theory was confirmed. They all had googley eyes and looked liked they'd been hit with silly sticks.
Lesson learned: next year I want to work the cookie decorating station. Or, I want to be at the absolute end of the line - like I was this year - so I'm only exposed to one "rotation" worth of sugar-crazed children. Add to that chaos, the kindergarten teacher, who had previously been elsewhere in the room, decided to come over and sit down and watch what was happening at my table and the kids turned absolutely INSIDE OUT. I'm not exactly sure why the pandemonium suddenly exploded but sweet mercy. Whatever preconceived notions I'd help about how EASY a kindergarten teacher's role was, were completely shattered.
I'm not sure what William was talking about.
There is absolutely NO time to sit at the front of the room and drink beer.
In our children's class there are three teachers. The primary teacher and two full-time assistants. At the beginning of the school year, I thought that seemed like a lot, but after today, I could easily see an additional ten assistants.
The next 30 minutes of the class were a blur. I was running around, cleaning up, helping to hand out Valentine's Day cards, settling children down with a snack, organizing back packs for the trip home, putting on coats - zipping up coats - tying shoes - loading up back packs - and shuffling the children out the door for their buses. I typically volunteer in the children's class at least once every couple of weeks. But lending a hand in their class today was the most aerobic exercise I've had in a month.
Although ... getting our children to sit down and write 75+ Valentine's Day cards for their classmates coupled with our efforts to get out 120+ Valentine's Day cards in the mail on Thursday, so that they would (hopefully) be received by today was quite an aerobic feat, too.
While I thought I had counted correctly, I was running a high fever when I ordered the cards and realized after they arrived that we were a whopping 30 cards short. So if you didn't happen to receive a card this year (which was in place of our annual Christmas card that I neglected to send) ... this was the outside...
... and this was on the inside,
My favorite part, and my wish to you, whomever you are, was in our signature block. It read, "As the sun shines upon us, and the moon rises above ... we hope that your 2011 is full of good health, peace and LOVE!"
Love, Love, Love.
Happy Valentine's Day!