random thoughts on a typical sunday

so today. . . is sunday. that means we go to church in the morning.

my sunday starts with band rehearsal at 9:00 a.m. i say we start at 9:00, but we never start at 9:00 . . . i have tried everything short of paying the band members to be on time, but they just can't seem to make it happen. and on those rare occasions when everyone is there on time, we inevitably have sound issues . . .

actually, we have sound issues almost every week. it is probably amazing that we don't have more problems than we do. fortunately, we have james--yes, james my computer wizard! he also does sound for me at church, and he is also amazing at that! but as amazing as he is, we can't seem to avoid having sound problems--james is just excellent at fixing them.

the sound problems aren't always his fault. one morning we spent 10 minutes trying to track down why we couldn't hear the guitar through the sound system, only to finally discover that the cable wasn't pushed all the way into the guitar! and this morning, the drummer lost my vocals in his monitor, and we discovered his cable had been kicked loose. cables and connections--the bane of my musical existence!

today, the drummer was on drugs. not the bad kind--the kind you take when you don't feel very good. and they made him a little bit loopy. it was pretty funny. he came to church wearing a bandana around his head, and with his dark hair and big eyes and the vacant stare that was a result of his cold medicine, he looked a little like a deranged ninja--and it didn't help that he kept popping up unexpectedly from behind things . . .

church starts in the main sanctuary at 10:15 a.m. promptly. church starts for us between 10:20 and 10:30ish, depending on how long it takes us to locate the whole band and get them on stage. there are only three musicians and two vocalists, but some days it is like herding cats to get everyone ready to go! we have to look outside, and in the bathrooms, and in the kitchen . . . they are all there, we just have to find them.

then after the music, diandra and i sat together on the floor in the back during the sermon, as we do every week (remember, our service is in the church gym, and it is dark . . . ) the deranged drummer sat with us this week, because his cold medicine was making it hard for him to focus and he didn't want to distract his friends--at least, that is the motive i am giving him--maybe he just got lost on his way to the bathroom . . . so the three of us were sitting there listening to rollie preach. he was preaching about loneliness today and was talking about how people try to fill the emptiness in their lives with all kinds of things, but nothing works, because as he said, "it is like there is a God-shaped hole in each of us that can only be filled by God." and i leaned over to diandra and said, "i think i also have a brownie shaped hole . . . "

this was a mistake. she started laughing--quietly, of course, and thank goodness we were in the back, but still . . . then javvy (the drummer) looked at her with his vacant eyes, so she told him what i had said and then he started laughing, and that made me laugh too . . .

it reminded me of a time when diandra was about six years old. we were sitting in church, again in the back (because that is where i like to sit,) and rollie was preaching, and she was playing with my hand. she was being quiet and just sort of absently holding my hand and tracing along the blood vessels on the back of it. i have very prominent blood vessels on the back of my hand, and at one point she kind of pushed on one. i don't know what possessed me, but when she did that, i abruptly stiffened up my hand into a "claw" position. it startled her so badly that she jumped. it was so funny! so i laughed--i couldn't help myself. and then she laughed. and neither one of us could stop. and we were trying to be quiet, and again, thank goodness we were in the back . . . but that is still one of my favorite memories of her childhood.

(lest you think we are being disrespectful when we talk in church, rollie told me today that it doesn't bother him when he sees people whisper to each other during the sermon. he says that just means that he has said something that has made them think, and they want to tell someone what they are thinking, so they whisper to the person next to them. that is usually what happens with diandra and me--although usually it is when he says something that makes us think of something funny to say. and so we do. and then we laugh. but we are still listening!)

i wore my new gray ankle boots to church today. it was the first time i had worn them out of the house. maybe sunday morning church was not the best choice for their first outing, as i am on my feet from 9:00 until the music is over at about 11:00. and standing in brand new shoes for two hours has it's drawbacks . . . so my feet were not happy by the time church was over. rollie and i went to subway for lunch, and when we pulled into the parking lot (i was following him,) i kept thinking "leave the closest parking space for ME! my feet hurt!!" of course, since we were in separate cars, he couldn't hear me. and he had sore toes from an injury yesterday. so he pulled into the close space and i drove around the parking lot. then i sat in my car for a few minutes working up my courage to hobble into the restaurant.

the rest of my afternoon consisted of a nap, followed by a meeting at the church, which was followed by dinner at rubio's! and still, rollie and i were in separate cars--we just could not get our timetables synced today! and as i was slowly and carefully walking toward rubio's, rollie said, "you are still wearing those shoes?!?!" and i said, "yes, they go with my outfit! and they are so cute!!" and he said, "but they hurt your feet!" and i said, "yes, but i planned my whole outfit around these boots today. i love them!!" he just looked at me like maybe aliens had invaded my body . . .

maybe they have. but if they have, they certainly have good taste in footwear!

this blog does not even deserve a title. or a label.

so today . . . is saturday. nothing blogworthy happened. so sad . . .

but, as scarlett o'hara would say, "tomorrow is another day . . . !"

but isn't indigo blue?

so today . . . my fuse was short. luckily i have good self control . . .

when you work with small children, some days you either laugh or scream. or put your head down on your desk and picture white, sandy beaches . . . i try to choose to laugh when i can, but today, screaming almost won out.

four year old brains do not function like adult brains. duh! but when you spend way more of your time with four year olds than you do with adults, it is easy to forget that. you kind of start to think that they think like you do. they do not.

it is sad to say that my "peeps" are mostly four or five years old! and most days i enjoy being with them, but i admit there are some days when i just want to throw paperwork at them, and sit at my desk until they bring it to me all neatly and correctly completed. because there are days when it is really hard to embrace all that being a four year old means. like choosing just the right crayon. even if it takes FOREVER!

today i was working with the pre-k kids on number concepts--you know, how much is the number "two," really . . . and what does the number "three" look like, in terms of quantity . . . and why is "one" a lonely number . . . ? these are the burning questions four year olds need the answers to. my solution, before handing them the requisite paper to complete, was to work with their crayons.

crayons seemed like such a good choice. they use them all the time, so it wouldn't be like a new toy that they would want to explore. they each already had crayons within arm's reach. and they had more than three--perfect, i naively thought . . .

so i said, "ok, today we are going to use our crayons to show how many," and then proceeded with the lesson. they seemed to be with me. they were listening (at least, they were looking at me which i took to mean that they were listening--but maybe they were thinking about white, sandy beaches . . . or legos) and then i said, "show me two crayons."

you would think i had asked them to build a nuclear reactor.

two crayons! that is all i was asking for. take two crayons out of your pencil box and lay them on the table so i know that you know how many two is. but apparently they couldn't pick up just any two crayons. apparently there were two crayons that would result in the right answer, while all others would be wrong. ok, i can wait. and wait. and wait.

finally the chosen crayons are presented, and thankfully they have all chosen the right number. i would love to just call it a day right here, but i still have the numbers one and three left. it's a toss up, but i ask for one crayon. that goes pretty quickly--they put their little hands in and pull out a crayon. now THAT's what i am looking for! ok, let's move on to the number three. and let's do it quickly, because it is almost snack time . . .

"quickly" is not even in the building. they paw through their crayons. they make as much noise as possible pawing through their crayons. they choose one. but that isn't enough, so they look some more. "is this crayon blue?"

WHO CARES!!! JUST PICK THREE CRAYONS AND LAY THEM ON THE TABLE!!!!!!!! THE COLOR IS IRRELEVANT!! I JUST NEED TO SEE THREE! THREE!!! ANY COLOR WILL DO!!! JUST PICK THREE!!!

i don't actually scream these words. oh yes, they are careening around in my head, but i have enough self control to keep them in there. all that escapes my lips is, "no, that is indigo. did you want the blue crayon?"

no wonder some days my head feels like it is going to explode. all those upper case letters and exclamation points are trapped inside . . .

usually "because i hit someone" is the right answer

so today . . . the relative ineffectiveness of "time out" was demonstrated once again . . .

i spend the first hour of my day at school monitoring pre-k kids who are mostly not in my class. since our facility is open for 12 hours a day, teachers' hours must be staggered to adequately cover it all. so i end up with a mix of kids until their regular teachers arrive.

i am a good teacher, but i am firm. i have clear boundaries in my classroom, and i expect the kids to stay within those boundaries whether they are in my room for an hour in the morning or all day long. most children adapt really well to this structure, but there are always those who think the rules don't apply to them--even at four years old. one of those children is janelle . . .

janelle and i have issues, the main one being i think she should listen to my words and do them; she thinks she will do them if she feels like it. which she never does. this creates a problem.

today, i had just had it! she has been ignoring my words all week. i have tried in many different ways to communicate to her that it is important for her to listen to my words and then do them, but nothing seems to be getting through to her four year old brain. so i finally put her in time out.

i am not a big fan of time out--i think it is highly misunderstood and generally used incorrectly, but i was out of ideas. when i took her over to sit in a chair i said, "janelle, you are going to time out now because you are not listening to my words. i will be back to talk to you about it in four minutes."

as i walked away, she was looking at me like, "what did i do?"

when i went back four minutes later (because to her credit, she did a good job of sitting there quietly,) i gave her the speech.

"janelle, why did you have to go to time out?"

"because i hit someone?" she did not hit someone--this time. but the kids have learned that if they hit, there is no warning--they go straight to time out. and since hitting is really the only offense that usually results in a time out, this was a reasonable guess--it was just wrong. this time.

"no," i said, "you are in time out because you did not listen to my words and do them. when i say stop, you need to STOP. when i say come, you need to COME." i was trying to keep it very simple, because my goal really was to help her understand something she clearly did not. to check her understanding i said, "so, janelle, the next time i say stop, what are you going to do?" and she replied, "stop."

"yes, that's right," i said. "and when i say come, what are you going to do?

"come," she said.

ok, i was on a roll. i know i had just told her that, but she was responding appropriately, so i decided to go for broke and throw in something we had talked about the day before. "yes," i said, "good for you! and when i call your name, what are you going to do?"

she thought for a moment, tapping her little index finger on her chin, and then said, "that's a tough one!"

i couldn't help myself. i laughed. and she smiled. so i agreed with her that, yes, that was a tough one. and then i reminded her of what she should do when she heard her name called, gave her a hug, and told her to go play.

i have no doubt that tomorrow when i tell her to stop, or come, or call her name, she will once again ignore me. because stopping and thinking about the appropriate response is not what four year olds do best . . . what four year olds do best is smile.