My husband, Max, tells me I need to write stuff down before I forget it, which is highly possible for an over exerted brain such as mine.... (little children can do such a thing to an old hen).... .  Last night I was telling him about the way of "the first day" in pre-school, and  it always begins with much wailing and gnashing of teeth, - and it doesn't help that the kids are sort of weepy too.  After a peaceful rest off  for the summer, I am usually undecided as to which is worse, -the boredom of too many days of quiet tranquility or the chaos of August through the end of May, a pre-school year. Most of the time, I am ready to return to the busy land of Oz,... until I get there, and remember how it really is.  Gone is the rosy glow of  the memory of happy contented youngsters, waiting quietly in their wee chairs for the knowledge of the universe that "Ms Woach" is ready to impart to them.....no-wait, that is the alternate universe that I travel to occasionally... What really awaits me on the first day of school is more like something from a horror/comedy movie script.  A non- verified accounting of the number of small actors in these so called screen plays that I have staged in the last six years, is approximately  four million twenty two... (that's what it feels like at times), but it is most likely around 35 or 36 uniformed little people.  Each tiny thespian  is unique in his or her own way, except for the fact that they all depend upon me to be their "mom-away-from real-mom" on our pre-school stage.  Oh, the drama that is portrayed on opening day!  Be it the tears that flow silently, or the weeping accompanied by loud wailing and lamenting, or the clinging to retreating parental units, or the "awe and wonder" gaze on tiny faces as they behold the grand display of colorful toys upon shelves- just out of a 3 yr olds reach, every first day of school is an Odyssey in the making for all concerned. Just call me Homer.... or, "I wish I was back at homer"... Anyway, one of the more memorable occurrences happens to be about a certain young lady who actually did not utter a sound on the first day.  No, it was in the middle of  Bible story time, on the second day that she abruptly yells out in a voice that I hadn't thought possible for such a tiny she -midget..... "YOU GO CALL MY MOMMA RIGHT NOW AND TELL HER TO COME AND PICK ME UP!!" She almost startled me enough to go and do it!  Big voices can and do come out of the mouths of babes.  Eventually she calmed down and decided to stay, but it was only after everybody ELSE  had calmed down from the jolt they received from her sudden deafening outburst!  I'm trying to remember if anyone (including me) wet their pants due to mass hysteria.....
Yes, opening day at Pre-school can be a grand adventure worthy of  the big screen.  I won't forget that first day"!

You know, sometimes you just have to get things out of your system.  Before anyone reads any further, they should be aware that that is what I am doing.  Getting stuff out of my system.  I love children, really, down deep I do, but I don't always LIKE them.  Today is one of those days.  I work in a place where there are a lot of children,  A pre-school. Some are huuman, and some I know came from another planet.  They are like little molecules that are heated in the test tube.... the higher the temperature, the more active they become.  Today was a 105 F kind of day, even though the thermometer outside reads 68 degrees I bet every one in my  class today was force fed about half a lb of sugar prior to being brought to school.  They are bouncing off the walls, hanging from the chandeliers, and generally running amok in my 140 sq ft classroom. (OK, today I am embellishing and exagurating a minute bit)  I have one child, my little Asian , the only one who has not been yelling and screaching or crying or wailing and gnashing his miniture teeth... then again, this child has said only four words the entire time since August.....  I love this child. No, quiet but firm  leadership has reaped no results other than a higher degree of "amokness".  Trying to placate a "princling", soothe the imagined boo-boo of lamenting drama queens,  moderating ongoing territorial Lego wars, and redirecting kittens with ADHD has been a loosing battle today.  Just call me Custer and blow my Little Big Horn......
If I were a Catholic, I would be looking up the number of a good exorcist..... sigh

No children in the classroom today... an "in-service" day for the teachers, therefore nothing new to report.  But, I was thinking of some of the "best of" incidents that have flashed before my eyes over the past 5 years, wondering if I should write them down. One of the best things I ever heard a child say  (in the middle of the story of Moses) was... "Hey Ms Woach! My momma's a hottie!"  That took my attention off the basket in the river for a moment, and I had to ask "Do you know what that means?"... "no" says little mister.  "Where did you hear that?" says I... "my daddy says it".. "Do you know what that means?" .. I mean, inquiring minds want to know..."Nope" says little mister.  "It means your daddy thinks your momma is pretty"  Little mister just grins.  Next day he returns and informs me (once again in the middle of the Moses story).  I recall getting as far as the princess of Egypt looking into the basket this time.."my momma is still a hottie!!!  You can just ask my dad!!"  He was so proud of himself.  Dad did look a little sheepish when I reported the whole hottie history.  He grins a lot like his 3 yr old.  Personally, I think it's a good thing for a little guy to know his dad appreciates his momma. 
  Same little guy a few weeks later comes running into the classroom and says (all in one excited breath)..."hey, Ms Woach!!"...now imagine the text all in one sentence, without benefit of any breathing between phrases.."my mommy dwopped hew (her) keys in da potty at chic-a lay and she cewden (couldn't) get dem out so she called the chick-a- lay man into da potty but he couldn't get dem out eeder so she called my daddy to come to chic-a-lay and come onto da potty, but daddy cewden get dem out eeder even when he sick his awm way down into da potty.!" " He just had to go buy a new key!"   Little mister by now is blue in the face from vernacular exertion and takes a huge gulping breath..now is just standing there shaking his head sadly and nearly whispers... " my daddy was mad." End of story.   I am laughing and thinking to  myself... "good thing Mom is still a hottie".....
One of the few perks of my job is cheap entertainment.... lots of it.

After about 27 attempts and some unkind words and thoughts (toward technology in general) and with the help of my co-worker Candace and my son Jerrod, I finally figured out how to do this thing.... If it works again????? Who knows... and who cares? I'm still not convinced about this blog thing, but Candace thinks I should do it.  I can't figure out why anyone would want to read the nonsense I come up with!  Maybe it will just be a stress reliever for me...but a stress producer for anyone who ventures a peek at my blathering....continue at your own risk.
  I guess I  will concentrate on the various happening of my day at work... pre-school shenanigans!  I will attempt to be truthful, not too prone to embellishment (I don't have to... those knee-knockers are entertaining without any fictionalization of comments and activities.)
  This is my sixth year of zoo-keeping..uhm, teaching the little ones.  I began this quest out of a necessity to further our youngest son's education.  I felt he needed to be at Macon Road, and since we live approx. 27 miles from the school, I sought employment....It made no sense to drive him all that way unless I was going too. I had been a stay at home mom for 12 years... hadn't worked full time in over 20 yrs ( for monetary compensation ... I worked all right.... being a full time mom is not for sissies. Anyway, back to my story.  As I began this odyssey, I mantra'd to myself.... "I'm outta here the second Andy gets that diploma in his hand"...(May, 2012) Well, that was last Spring, and I am still collecting a payroll slip every two weeks.  (another story)...I realized that this job is probably perfect for me.  It is not hard, just aggravating...I do not feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, or the balance of some poor souls' life is my responsibility, as I did when I was working as an RN in a large hospital years ago.  The balance of some poor child's educational career may be in my hands, but usually it is just their wet underwear in a plastic bag.... If I mess them up, I figure there are 14 years of better teachers who can straighten them out.  K3 (Three year old kindergarten), may be the building block for an educational career, but when you work with Lego's it pretty simple to change out the red block for the yellow... If you're gonna cry about it.....
  I can not promise correct sentence structure or punctuation ( English was not my major in school), I usually tell a story just the way I see it or think it.  some thought process are pretty garbled, especially when I am talking to myself.  This is what I meant by stress producing on the receiving end of this deal... But, the children.. or midgits, or pygmy's ... or whatever term of endearment I happen to choose make my job interesting.....yeah, that's a good word... interesting.  I will attempt to convey just what actually happens in my little world to anyone who wishes to peek in on us.
  One more addendum.  I am a believer in the Lordship of Jesus, a redeemed sinner because of His grace, and I need that grace every single day.  God surely has a sense of humor..... dropping me in the middle of a bunch of mini me's.. I see myself in so much of what goes on in room #6.  Thank you Mom for not locking me in a box and shipping me off to Timbuktu in 1963 .....sigh.   Just how long is a blog supposed to be , anyway???