Because I can scarcely keep track of my own stuff, I do not expect you to. So before I launch into this post, I remind you, dear reader, that on Tuesdays I teach elementary-school kids a "theatre class" consisting of acting, singing, and dancing.
So despite the godawful timing and logistics of the class (it's 3:30-5pm on Tuesdays in Mahtomedi, and Daycare Dee can only keep the kids until, like, 4:45 and we only have one set of car seats so Joel has to scramble out of work to get the kids and then hang out at Target for half an hour until I can pick the three of them up and really I need to find a better solution because Joel is getting peeved), I do love teaching it.
Except for the talking.
The class is right after school, so the kids have a LOT of energy to expend and a LOT to catch up on. Understandable. And some activities we do do seem to hold their attention enough. But during some of the other stuff, there is nonstop chattering going on. Waiting in line to take a turn speaking? Chattering.
Or this one kid is doing handstands instead of watching his peers take their turns performing. I ask him to stop. I joke -- handstands are awesome, I love doing them myself, I'm all for tumbling but this is not tumbling class! And the next time I turn around, there's Tyler, doing another handstand.
It drives me insaaaaane and as someone with no education training, I feel desperately ill-equipped to deal with it. I want to just scream at them, but that's totally not the right thing to do -- not to mention I am still trying to get my voice back 100% after my brave battle with the double dose of chest cold/marathon cheering. The only thing I really know how to do is give time-outs, so I don't call them that but I did send 2 kids to go sit out and not participate in whatever activity we were doing at the time. The girl took it well (despite the fact that "Sheila was talking to me FIRST!") and came back at the end of the activity to take her turn. But poor Tyler the Handstand Boy sat out the entire rest of the class, refusing to rejoin even when I went over and asked him nicely to please come back, we're all having fun, and maybe if your mother would cut your hair I could actually see your face to talk to you.
So I guess next week they get a little talk about respecting each other's performances by paying attention, blah bah... I wish I knew what to do.
Oh rats I have to get up at the crack of dawn and make apple cake for ECFE tomorrow. But I really want to see how the Red Sox-Indians game ends. Blast it!!