My class of two year olds did just great this morning--at the end of our morning, all 8 of them were sitting and watching as I did a finger-puppet story. As psyched as I was over the success, my confidence took a beating during the second half of my day. The twos left at 11:30 and I straightened up my classroom before heading to lunch with mostly 4 year olds (1 girl age 3). Lunch was fine. Playground time was almost fine--one boy was angry at the other 5 kids and was very melodramatic and kept screaming at them to leave him alone. Harmony prevailed when I suggested something they could all play together. Naptime was a disaster, though. Everyone finally stopped wiggling and giggling (and Dennis stopped inventing reasons to get up and tell me things), and then the youngest one started wailing loudly for her mommy. This set off Grace (who is old enough to know better) to start doing the same, and then the boys complained "all that crying is keeping us awake." The wailing continued for 20 minutes until I gave up and read them stories. David picked Dennis and me up after the others left, and we went home to survey the effects of the second major flea bombing. The air was toxic, so we spent a lovely night at the lake. Dennis and I were so exhausted that we spent our entire evening crashed in front of the televisions. We were so fried, in fact, that we forgot all about going to Taekwondo! I think we're almost over our colds, thank goodness.
Dennis picked out a pizza (sausage and pepperoni, of course) for supper, and laid himself out on the couch for hours! It was a nice, low key way to conclude a tiring day!
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