The spoken word

                                                                                
I'm beside myself, simple elated. I had no idea when this incredible transformation would occur, but it did......a year later.

We had a shy little Hispanic boy come to us last year who was clearly, lost in translation. He knew no English and spoke very little Spanish. With his gentle disposition he attracted the other children and didn't have any problem playing and interacting.  His problem and what qualified him for our program was his speech and language delays. The entire first year I hardly ever heard his voice. If he spoke it was in a quite whisper with his head hung down. When I say spoke I'm talking about a word here and a word there, never a complete sentence.

A year later and older our quite little boy has emerged into a happy, confident, energetic preschooler.

I sat next to him during circle. Part of our circle time activities include singing and dancing and on this particular day, I could hear him singing the words of a song. Never had I ever heard his voice so clear, I was simply astonished. It didn't stop with one song, he kept it up with each song we sang.  The adults in the room all exchanged glances as we heard his little voice sing out, each with a baffled look on our face.

After the song and dance, well a few songs and some dancing later, we gathered around the snack table. Our Hispanic friend sang the snack poem and participated with the hand gestures. Granted we've been singing these songs for a year but I'm overjoyed that they have finally sunk in and he's understanding the words.

Oranges were part of the menu and this little guy loved the oranges. I took the opportunity to teach him the word 'orange' since he kept pointing at them and wanting more. Then I tried, once again, to speak his native language. Orange in Spanish is la naranja. Yeah, I felt like I had a ball of cotton in my mouth, la na raun ha. Something of that nature.

Me asking the boy: You want more orange?

Child nods his head yes.

 Handing him the fruit I said: Orange, la na rah ah.

Speech Therapist correcting my mutilation of the word: It's la naranja

I turn and look at the little guy and repeat: Orange, la naun rah.

Child smiling shaking his head no at my lame attempt.

Speech Therapist exaggerating the inflection of the word: la na raun ha.

After many tries I finally get it right and proudly say to our Spanish student: la naranja!

Again he smiles flashing his cute dimples, and shakes his head no.

 Insulted: "What? You're a hard one to please," I tell my young friend.

Not wanting to disappoint. Again I try: La naranja.

Child shakes his head no.

Baffled I said it in English: Orange?

Child smiles even bigger and shakes his head yes and repeats: Orange!

I finally got it, he wanted me to say it in English.

After picking my jaw up off the table, I handed him another orange.

Snakes, snails and puppy dog tails......

                                                                    
We have this boy. I love this boy. I want this boy. This boy is all boy.  He's tough, he's sweet, he's stubborn, and he's too dang cute. I asked his mom once if I could  keep him. She declined.

Every day this little guy comes to school with shirts that match his personality. They'll have sayings like, "My favorite color is dirt.""Country Kid" "I did it"

Today was no different, as I was unbuckling his seat belt and helping him off the bus,I noticed another darling shirt.

I had to ask, although I'm not sure what I was expecting to hear but I asked anyway, "Where does your mom get all your cute shirts?"

He simply replied, "At home."

Of course.

The eye of the storm?

                                                               
I keep waiting for the bomb to drop, the honeymoon to be over, the tornado to roll in, some kind of indication that the kids we have this year aren't the perfect little angles they are appearing to be. Seriously, we have never had such a quiet, mellow, calm class before. Oh it may start out that way in the beginning, but usually after a week or two they start to show their true colors.

There's no rainbow here, only the pot of gold. Both our morning class and afternoon class have the sweetest children. I'm not sure what to make of it. I mean really, we have never had a class without having some kind of kid that packs his own dynamite. The one that explodes at a drop of a hat. Personally speaking, I actually like and gravitate towards the t n t. I like the ones that have a bit of sparkle, a touch of stubbornness, ok I'll be honest, a lot of stubbornness and explosive behavior. I really do.

Those types of behaviors are my favorite to deal with and with the classes this year, I'm not seeing it.

I should count my blessings and enjoy the calm. It's still early in the game and since we screen kids all year there's still a chance we could pick one up. For now, there's nothing on the schedule but in this type of profession, anything can happen...... anything.

I've made the mistake before thinking I've seen it all, so I'll just hold on, indulge in the sweetness and see what happens.

Potty Trained!

                                                               
Yay! Good job, you did it!! His baby blue eyes lit up and his smile reached both ears. No treats necessary, he's happy knowing he accomplished something I never thought possible. A year ago his parents tried, without success, to potty train him. He wasn't ready. They had a plan that frustrated him as well as the staff and eventually realized it wasn't going to happen.

Over the summer the parents tried again and apparently had success, so they said. When he came to school he seemed the same as he did last year, not ready.  None of us truly believed he was capable nor trained, until his mom brought her little autistic boy in for a demonstration.

There's a devise which has a little clip that attaches to the front of the underpants and plugs into a battery pack by a small cord. The battery pack is small enough to fit into his pocket. When he starts to tinkle it makes the battery pack vibrate, similar to a phone vibrating, at the same time triggers an alarm. This seems to stop him from urinating in his pants. When he is taken to the bathroom, he will potty in the toilet.

It's the most amazing devise I have ever seen. It's called a Malem toileting alarm.

He successfully demonstrated his new skill with pride. Can you blame him, he had his mom, and about three teachers crammed in a small bathroom for an audience. As everybody dropped their jaw in amazement he hopped off the toilet as if saying, "What's the big deal anyway?"

Our little guy doesn't talk and his signing is limited which makes this alarm thing all the more brilliant. It went off only once as he was exiting the bus. The rest of the day he independently showed us, on three different occasions, when he needed to use the toilet by, signing, pulling down his pants, and grabbing my hand while dragging me towards the door.

I tell ya, I was flabbergasted and amazed. This little five year old who is delayed developmentally as well as physically blew my socks off.

I guess we're never beyond learning even when the task seems impossible. Don't go thinking it's the preschooler I'm talking about, it's this seasoned teacher who THOUGHT she knew it all.

Starting new

                                                                        
After two weeks of setting up a new classroom, meeting new parents, getting to know new staff and new IEP's we will officially start kids tomorrow. Working with the children is where it's at for me. I love the shy ones and helping them feel loved and welcomed, I love the stubborn ones who challenge me and my tactics. I love finding ways to help the ones that struggle with their health, to be more comfortable. I love teaching the ones that can't talk find a way to communicate. I love the busy, chaotic,whirlwind days we have, but most of all, I love the kids.

Last year we said our goodbye's and tomorrow we'll be saying hello.  I'm ready and excited for a new year so, "Bring it on!"

Going out with a BANG!

  

                                                                 
Wow, what can I say. We have one more day of preschool and after today, I know we're not headed into summer quietly. The last two days have been really nice. There was no noise level, every thing was so calm and quiet. I'd like to take the credit that we finally taught the children to use their words, talk nicely, don't scream, boss your friends or tattle, but in all honesty the calm of the classroom was because half the children were missing in both sessions.

As we prepared for class today, my prediction was, we were going to have everybody back in full motion. I felt it like an animal senses danger. The little prickles of hair at the nap of my neck were telling me a storm was brewing and sure enough, my instincts were right.

I was counting heads while the children were exiting the bus. One, two, three, four.....I continued counting until every last preschooler stepped off. Yep, they're all a counted for. One of our autistic boys, who was absent the previous two days due to feeling sick, getting his four year shots and sporting a new hair cut, was back and not happy about it.
A few children were out of sorts because our room is in chaos with boxes and packing going on.
(We have to move our class, the whole school is playing musical rooms) The poor little things don't handle change very well.
A couple of the other students were just full of Vin and vigor.

Then the afternoon class rolled around and again, as they were coming off the bus I counted heads and again, they were all there. This group of preschoolers has a different set of dynamics going on. The loud were much louder, the bossy one was at the top of her game bossing everyone like they were her servants, the tattle tails couldn't stop tattling, and the whiners were even whiner.

I know most of it was because our room is turned upside down and things just aren't the same.

Since there was a break in the weather, we decided the best place for their active little bodies would be better spent outside.

With all the whining, crying, screaming, and tattling going on, we pulled out the ol' positive reinforcement plan, in layman's terms it's called bribery. Oh what they won't do for a special treat.

"If you don't cry or scream at your friends, you can have a treat." This is very effective for our little lion because although he is very explosive, he's also very smart. I seriously don't know how a four year old can pack so much dynamite in such a little body, but he can hold it together if he thinks about it. Then we had a little guy who I believe was really not feeling well or was just tired and in need of a nap. He took his seat on the whiners cart.

The little lion blew his chance at gaining a treat. I let his screaming slide when he was yelling at himself, but when he started in screaming at the other children, I informed him he was "Done" and he would not be getting a special treat.

For our second recess I decided to give those who didn't receive a treat the first time a second chance at earning one. This meant the little lion had another opportunity. He really is a very smart boy and this usually works for him but for some reason, he just couldn't hold it together. He kept losing it, mostly at himself. He is by far his own worst enemy, and the whiner started screaming at his friends when things weren't going his way. Sad to say, their last chance came and went and there was no 'positive reinforcement' given for either of them.The little lion handled it well, because he's smart like that, but the whiner had a complete melt down and wanted his treat. He kept crying and crying, "I want my treat, I want my treat."

Sympathetically little lion consoled him and said, "Next time if you don't cry you can have a special treat."

I did mention he was smart didn't I?  My prediction, next week they'll both be well rewarded.

The Lost Boy

                                                               
"You've got to be kidding me?" The principal says with a hint of disgust in his voice. No, I'm not kidding, as I stood in his office holding the hand of a small barefooted child, with dirt and grime covering his face. "I found him running around and playing with our preschoolers as we were out in the courtyard riding bikes." I replied to the man in charge.

Throughout the day we are continually counting heads, especially when we are outside. Fortunately the schools playground is completely surrounded by a chain link fence so if a child decides to go MIA on us, at least he'll be inside the school grounds.

This particular child was not one of ours, although he fit right in. As I was watching the children running around, playing in the wagon and riding bikes, I noticed a unfamiliar yellow shirt, but the boy's back was turned towards me so I' couldn't make out who he was. I said to one of the other teachers, "Who's the kid in the yellow shirt?" Then I walked up to the child who had just jumped in the wagon being pulled by one of our preschoolers. I looked at his dirt covered face, nope not one of ours. I asked him what his name was, and to my surprise, he actually knew it. He told me he was four years old and that his mommy is at home. "Where do you live." I continued to ask, and he points in some direction that indicated he crossed the street to get where he was. OK, let's go for a walk. I took his hand and informed the other teachers I'll be in the office.

 After explaining to the Principal how we came across this runaway, I left the child in his care and returned to the group. As we continued to play outside, I caught a glimpse of the principal and his secretary walking along the outside of the fence with the little boy. They eventually found the child's house and delivered the boy.

Later in the day I was able to talk with the Principal about the child. He said once he saw the mom, he recognized her as a parent of a 5th grader they had enrolled. She had no idea her son was missing. The door to the house was not locked and who knows what she was doing while her adventurous barefoot boy left home to play on the playground. He must have either crawled under or climbed over the fence to sneak his way in.

I don't want to place judgment on the mother because given a chance, you never know what a kid will do when you turn your back. I 've been working with children and families way too long to know these things can happen.

Scary, but true.