In reference to my post Hello? , a friend texted me the following:
Tag Archives: children
The Problem
The problem with having three young children playing in one small apartment space for 2 hours is that inevitably someone is going to throw the ball too hard and very carelessly, and come thisclose to knocking over an entire shelf of expensive glass picture frames.
So I’m sorry to my friend Jodi. I just wanted your kids to think I was cool.
Next time I won’t play.
Field Trips!
Parent chaperone (to me, once we returned back to school after our field trip): “I always feel like teachers need a good, stiff drink after a field trip day.”
Me (laughing): “Aw, nah, we love field trips! It’s great to see the kids so excited!”
I am 3 drinks deep.
Honesty
Me (to student): “Did you do your homework on a calculator?”
Kid: “No!!!”
Me: “Well, I find it hard to believe that you randomly came up with that super long number as your answer. Which would technically be the correct answer to 40 divided by 3, had you used a decimal point after the first 3. But that would be strange, since we never taught you decimal points. Only remainders.”
Kid: (Blank stare)
Me: “Also, I see NO work.”
Kid: (Blanker stare)
Me: “So again, I will ask you– did you use a calculator?”
Kid (wide-eyed): “NO. I did NOT.”
Me: “Unfortunately I don’t believe you.”
Kid: “I swear! I used an iPhone!!!!!”
Yes
Here are some conversations my marathon medal elicited from the children at school today:
Kid: “What’s that for?”
Me: “I ran a marathon!”
Kid: “Did you win?”
Me: “Yes.”
Kid: “Really?!”
Me: “Yes.”
——-
Kid: “Did you win the Nobel Prize!?”
Me: “Yes.”
——-
Kid: “Is that a necklace?”
Me: “Yes.”
——–
Kid: “Did you know you have a bell stuck to your neck?”
Me: “Yes.”
———
Kid: “Did you know your necklace has a crack on the bell part?”
Me: “Yes.”
———
Every single other kid in the school besides the 5 above: < Stare at medal. Stare at my face. Say nothing. Go about their day. >
———
Coworker: “Did any kids even congratulate you today?”
Me: “No.”
———
Conclusion: In general, kids, unlike adults, don’t give a fuck don’t know how to PRETEND to give a fuck that you ran a marathon.
My Students Will Know I Have a Mental Illness
The other day some teachers in my school were discussing how the 5th graders have been very into googling their teachers to see what kind of dirt they can dig up.
I’m sure this trend will catch on with the 4th graders soon enough, so just to prepare myself for what my students might find, I googled my name. The very first thing to pop up (besides my LinkedIn page) was an essay my father wrote about why he supports mental health organization Active Minds.
It goes into detail about my battle with Depression and Anxiety, focusing specifically on a time when I was deeply, deeply depressed, to the point where I had to quit my job and move home. It talks about how I couldn’t function. How my brain essentially lost the ability to comprehend the simplest of information. How I was terrified all the time, and couldn’t stop crying. How I was completely dependent on those around me. How I took, and continue to take, medication for mental illness. How I saw, and continue to see, a psychiatrist.
And you know what? Good.
Sure, I could worry about the general stigma and misunderstanding. I could worry about judgement from the students’ parents. I could worry that the children, families, or administration would look at or treat me differently.
But I don’t. At all. The old me would have.
Here’s how I see it now:
Your teacher was really sick and she got better, kids. And she works extremely hard to stay better, even though some days can be pretty tough. But she keeps going. And she has wonderful, strong relationships with caring, amazing people who are there to support her through the darkness and celebrate with her in the light. She stumbles, and sometimes it takes weeks or months to get back up. But she does. And she’s stronger and wiser for it.
I think that’s a pretty great lesson for a 10 year old.
Don’t you?
Now let’s just hope to god they never find my blog. 
Sometimes I regret encouraging the children to participate more
Kid: <raises hand during group discussion>
Me: “Yes? Do you have something you’d like to add?”
Kid: “No I’m just raising my hand to say that I forgot what I wanted to say.”
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
My Vow
When I have kids one day, I am never going to yell at them, punish them, set rules/curfews, or prevent them from doing the things they want to do because I’m going to be the cool parent who understands that children are people too, and they should be allowed to do as they please and make their own decisions.
Said my 12 year old self.
What a fucking idiot.
So THIS is why babies are stupid!
Look where they’re getting their information!
Here’s a book my baby nephew is currently “reading” (Sucking on. Licking. Trying to put inside my nose. Then losing interest and trying to put his fist inside my nose.)
No wonder he stares at me blankly, line of drool slowly zig-zagging down his chin, whenever I ask him to hand me my phone. The kid is so fucking confused!
Shame on you, American children’s book publishers.
It’s like you WANT China to win.
Truths Teachers Know
It is becoming increasingly apparent (based on the shocked, disapproving reactions of my non-teacher friends when I use the term) that you have to actually work with children all day every day to be able to appreciate the fact that some of them are, in fact, dicks.
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