It’s been a fairly smooth opening to the school year. Watch, tomorrow will be a horrible meltdown now that I’ve put that out in the universe.
I have a lot of feisty munchkins, but so far, no major meltdowns. Much to my relief, I actually like my homeroom quite a lot. There are way more boys than girls, which changes the atmosphere considerably. The boys are super “little boy”-ish this year – a welcome change from the “tough guy” crap of years past. They are also bright and quick and actually have some skills. Most of them seem to already realize that Texas is not a continent, and I’ll just call that a small miracle.
There’s a new favorite already… He’s another tiny little boy, (remember Twitch? Goofball? Speedy G?) and he’s super naughty. The Almighty Administration actually warned me about him and I believe they used the words “spawned from the devil”. I’ve always been drawn to the bad boys, and this one is a squirrelly, slippery, sneaky little weasel who has already learned to charm people but has tantrums when it doesn’t work. He is also a master-distracter in training. In the middle of a writing mini-lesson he pipes up with “Miss! What do you know about the Bermuda Triangle?” as if he expects me to drop my overhead marker and exclaim, “My! What an amazing question! I know quite a bit about the Bermuda Triangle, let me tell you all about it!” thus rescuing him from having to actually write something. Much to his dismay I refused to skip a beat, and he did indeed produce some writing.
These little attempts at distraction happen 15-20 times in a 90 minute class, and I’m sure he’s wondering when he’s going to wear me down. The thing is, he’s a button pusher, and he knows it, but so do I. He is trying to find my breaking point and I am simply going to remain as calm as possible until HE breaks. Ok, that and I am going to just be stranger than he is. That’s the plan anyways in my current zen-like state. That, and I am going to love the hell out of him (in totally appropriate ways obviously) because he seems to have no actual parents. If he does, nobody can find them. If I have melted down completely by mid-October I’m going to need somebody to please remind me to re-read this post and stay strong. For now though, the strategy is working quite well. He tried a different mode of attack today and told me I was an illegal alien and that I should be sent to prison. I’m sure he was expecting a lecture of some sort about rudeness and accusation and not being judgemental but instead, again much to his dismay, I simply winked, held out my wrists and told him he was welcome to make a citizens arrest. He was totally confused.
When he’s not attempting to be a pest, he’s actually really darling. He came leaping into the room the other day after lunch, bounced right up to me, stretched out his armed and crowed “Honey! I’m hooooome!”. Like I said, he’s my new favorite. It gets better. I truly wish I could tell you his real name because it’s HYSTERICAL. It’s an adjective. A fantastically amusing adjective because it is the antithesis of his personality. From here on out I am going to call him…Glorious.