Okay, there's GOT to be a better way to do Show and Tell on Fridays. I mean, my kid wants to grab the first thing available and throw it in his backpack just so he has something to share. He hates to be there empty-handed. He wants a turn. This morning he grabbed a naked "hospital buddy" - a cloth doll he was given a year and a half ago when he had an MRI done. The doll comes with a hospital gown, but I have no idea where that is. Jackson would have taken it for Show and Tell, but I stopped him. I was encouraging him to take something meaningful or different.
Teachers usually use Show and Tell for the kids to get their oral reports in for the curriculum. Kids love Show and Tell because they get to show off their stuff. I know this. I mean, my kid is counting down the days to Show and Tell at the beginning of the week, and he's not one to say, "Oh, I don't have anything" or "I don't need a turn this week." He has to have a turn.
Personally, Show and Tell is boring for the kids as they watch their peers show the same toys they had last year and the year before. I've been there. . .it's not that fantastic. However, I think teachers could make it more meaningful. Jackson has
been taking items for Show and Tell for 3 years now, and none of the
teachers had guidelines. While most parents are happy that there isn't some assignment, I need some guidelines for my son who feels he has to take something every week.
When I was in first grade, Mrs. Louchard had a shoebox that was our "secret item." Each student had a turn to take it home and bring it back on Friday. We couldn't show anyone in the class what was in there, but we got to choose. The kids would then ask questions to discover what was in there. I remember the day it was my turn. I chose a striped dish towel (exciting, I know). The second kid asked if it was a dish towel. I was so bummed that he got it right. I'm now wondering if he peeked. . .hmm. . .
A friend's preschool son had Show and Tell, too, but there were themes. Something green, or something that starts with the letter "A." I also think that maybe if the teacher could give a theme, but said, "If your student was to bring something for Show and Tell, our theme is. . ." It could go right along with whatever they're learning in school. It doesn't have to be an assignment, but just a requirement if the kids are going to bring something. Just give some direction. I've tried. It doesn't work for me because I'm the mom, not the teacher.
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Friday, August 24, 2012
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
It Has Begun; They Have Grown
It's that time of year again, and did my boy look sharp or what on the first day of school?! I personally think he's a stud.
And this our back fence now. We love it.
And this our back fence now. We love it.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Be The Teacher
Everything I'm relearning about being a teacher, I'm learning from Jackson.
1. A teacher always has his hands on his hips when he saying something important or talking to his students.
2. A teacher is nothing without a good whistle. (Thank goodness his mother owns one.)
3. The whistle must be blown before the teacher tells the students to do anything.
4. Apparently, the teacher knows Spanish and the kids must know it, too, because he reviews body parts (brazos, boca, ojos) every time they line up to go anywhere.
5. When a child is in trouble, it could mean that a child is hurt (i.e., a skinned knee) or that a child is playing in the window well when he shouldn't be.
6. When said child in the window well is reprimanded, the teacher must place his hands on his hips, lean forward sticking his rear in the air, wag a finger, and make a stern face with pursed lips while doing so.
7. The teacher controls time or owns a time machine. Following 2:00 recess, the children do their phonics and then line up for 12:00 recess and lunch time.
8. The teacher tells you where to play during recess ("up in my fort") and declines going up there with you because he has to "watch all the kids and can't play right now."
9. Apparently there is no separation between church and state in school now. When I asked what song we were singing for music time, he declared, "Valiant Servants song because it is my favorite." ("I Will Be Valiant" is a song I taught the children in church.)
10. The teacher eats his lunch outside while the students eat at the table inside.
I love that he loves to play "school" and can do it so well.
1. A teacher always has his hands on his hips when he saying something important or talking to his students.
2. A teacher is nothing without a good whistle. (Thank goodness his mother owns one.)
3. The whistle must be blown before the teacher tells the students to do anything.
4. Apparently, the teacher knows Spanish and the kids must know it, too, because he reviews body parts (brazos, boca, ojos) every time they line up to go anywhere.
5. When a child is in trouble, it could mean that a child is hurt (i.e., a skinned knee) or that a child is playing in the window well when he shouldn't be.
6. When said child in the window well is reprimanded, the teacher must place his hands on his hips, lean forward sticking his rear in the air, wag a finger, and make a stern face with pursed lips while doing so.
7. The teacher controls time or owns a time machine. Following 2:00 recess, the children do their phonics and then line up for 12:00 recess and lunch time.
8. The teacher tells you where to play during recess ("up in my fort") and declines going up there with you because he has to "watch all the kids and can't play right now."
9. Apparently there is no separation between church and state in school now. When I asked what song we were singing for music time, he declared, "Valiant Servants song because it is my favorite." ("I Will Be Valiant" is a song I taught the children in church.)
10. The teacher eats his lunch outside while the students eat at the table inside.
I love that he loves to play "school" and can do it so well.
Show me the teacher, Jackson!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
First Day of Kindergarten - in his words
I know it's long and possibly boring, but if you really want to know about school yesterday, here's what Jackson had to say:
In our house, we call that day a SUCCESS. The only casualites were
In our house, we call that day a SUCCESS. The only casualites were
- One lost pack of Smarties, left on the playground;
- One lost plastic container with ranch, left in the lunchroom; and
- One lost tooth. ("I can't find it on the playground, Mom.") He wanted it to fall out by itself, and it did. Even his teacher asked me if he really did lose a tooth yesterday. Ha! He did indeed, and now I have a hillbilly son!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Shh! Don't Tell Him. . .
This morning, I have to go into his room three different times to get him moving. All summer long he was up at 6:30 a.m., but now, he's sluggishly rubbing his eyes and turning over in his bed. Yes, it's the first day of school. He's been anxiously counting down to this day, the day he does not want to go back to school. Knowing my answer, but hoping for a new one, he asks nervously, "Mom, are you gonna be there?"
Only a week ago, I was panicking, trying to wrap my mind around the idea of my son going to school all day without me, in a sea of 24 kids in his class with ONE teacher: twice the size of his class last year and minus two teachers. This morning, I'm calm, excited, ready for him to go. He'll be taken care of, safe. We start the routine, and I try to explain a few things along the way, especially about his lunch and his snack. I make a list of things I'm going to do when he's gone, that I need and want to get done.
For the first time in three and a half years of school, I drive him to his first day; no bus this year. I think it's going to be easier. We pull into the parking lot and see other parents taking a zillion pictures of their Kindergartners in front of the school. "What a great idea!" I think, but I really am glad I didn't bring my camera and that I took pictures at home. Someone announces in the hallway, "First day of Kindergarten!" My heart leaps, Jackson clings to my hand, not daring to let go.
Jackson remembers where everything is. I remind him what to do first and then to find his seat. He sits, and finally, he looks at me. His eyes are turning pink, fighting back tears. He wipes his eyes, trying to be brave.
"It'll be all right. I'll pick you up at three o'clock by the playground," I say.
Looking and pointing up at the clock, he returns, "I'll watch the clock until three o'clock when you come get me."
Suddenly, I feel the panic rising in my chest.
The room is full, and I only feel twinges of the peace and security I felt last Friday. So many kids, one teacher! A mother starts weeping in the room, "This is my baby." Why did she have to say those words? I look back to my "baby." His eyes plead for me to stay, and I realize I don't want to leave him there. I think, "It's time to leave. I've done everything I can." I force a brave face and even smile. I give him another hug and begin to walk out. I look back, through a couple of parents and wave at my little boy, taking a picture in my mind. I turn the corner so he thinks I'm gone. I pause and then immediately turn back around to peek around the corner at him again, not sure if I want him to see me or not. He doesn't, I'm relieved. The brimming tears threaten to fall, and I know I have to get out of there. Jackson's not crying, I don't need to either. It's a straight shot to the door; as I push it open, I push back the tears and the emotions. "He's going to be fine. He'll be all right."
The one thing I do know, I'd better not be late for my 3:00 appointment, or there will be tears.
Only a week ago, I was panicking, trying to wrap my mind around the idea of my son going to school all day without me, in a sea of 24 kids in his class with ONE teacher: twice the size of his class last year and minus two teachers. This morning, I'm calm, excited, ready for him to go. He'll be taken care of, safe. We start the routine, and I try to explain a few things along the way, especially about his lunch and his snack. I make a list of things I'm going to do when he's gone, that I need and want to get done.
For the first time in three and a half years of school, I drive him to his first day; no bus this year. I think it's going to be easier. We pull into the parking lot and see other parents taking a zillion pictures of their Kindergartners in front of the school. "What a great idea!" I think, but I really am glad I didn't bring my camera and that I took pictures at home. Someone announces in the hallway, "First day of Kindergarten!" My heart leaps, Jackson clings to my hand, not daring to let go.
Jackson remembers where everything is. I remind him what to do first and then to find his seat. He sits, and finally, he looks at me. His eyes are turning pink, fighting back tears. He wipes his eyes, trying to be brave.
"It'll be all right. I'll pick you up at three o'clock by the playground," I say.
Looking and pointing up at the clock, he returns, "I'll watch the clock until three o'clock when you come get me."
Suddenly, I feel the panic rising in my chest.
The room is full, and I only feel twinges of the peace and security I felt last Friday. So many kids, one teacher! A mother starts weeping in the room, "This is my baby." Why did she have to say those words? I look back to my "baby." His eyes plead for me to stay, and I realize I don't want to leave him there. I think, "It's time to leave. I've done everything I can." I force a brave face and even smile. I give him another hug and begin to walk out. I look back, through a couple of parents and wave at my little boy, taking a picture in my mind. I turn the corner so he thinks I'm gone. I pause and then immediately turn back around to peek around the corner at him again, not sure if I want him to see me or not. He doesn't, I'm relieved. The brimming tears threaten to fall, and I know I have to get out of there. Jackson's not crying, I don't need to either. It's a straight shot to the door; as I push it open, I push back the tears and the emotions. "He's going to be fine. He'll be all right."
The one thing I do know, I'd better not be late for my 3:00 appointment, or there will be tears.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
TK Bowling - May 7, 2010
This year I've been able to go to on all but one of Jackson's field trips. (I was sick in December and just couldn't do it.) The culmination of them all was the bowling trip. Jackson was very excited because he loves to bowl. The bowling alley requested that the kids use the ramps to get the ball down the lane, and they put up bumpers. In all honesty, I needed the bumpers more than Jackson.
Jackson was not a good sport with the pictures either. He didn't have time to stop and smile at me when there was as screen full of scores and numbers to watch after each attempt. In the first picture, he's pointing at the screen behind me because he was mad that I made him stop so I could get a picture.
I had issues with my camera that day; the lighting in the bowling alley confused it, I think. (C'mon, I'm not going to admit that it was "User Error.")
Here's an example Jackson bowling. Of course, he wanted to use the 10-pound ball rather than wait for the lighter one to return, and you get to see how he reacts to his obviously interfering Mother.
The entire time we bowled he did not want to use the ramp. He wanted to bowl himself without that thing, so on his last turn, I let him push the ball down the lane.
We had a good time, and Jackson beat my score. I don't remember what we got, but yes, he beat me. Did I mention that I'm not a good bowler? Below is the best picture I could get of Jackson that day. Like I said, he was being a stinker and would not pose.
Jackson was not a good sport with the pictures either. He didn't have time to stop and smile at me when there was as screen full of scores and numbers to watch after each attempt. In the first picture, he's pointing at the screen behind me because he was mad that I made him stop so I could get a picture.
Here's an example Jackson bowling. Of course, he wanted to use the 10-pound ball rather than wait for the lighter one to return, and you get to see how he reacts to his obviously interfering Mother.
The entire time we bowled he did not want to use the ramp. He wanted to bowl himself without that thing, so on his last turn, I let him push the ball down the lane.
We had a good time, and Jackson beat my score. I don't remember what we got, but yes, he beat me. Did I mention that I'm not a good bowler? Below is the best picture I could get of Jackson that day. Like I said, he was being a stinker and would not pose.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
It's All Academic
Ready or not, Kindergarten, here he comes!
One of my friends recently wrote that she wondered why parents are so excited to send their kids off to school. Well, here are my reasons:
1. He needs more than just me for socialization and academia.
2. It really is academic -- he is ready for more reading and math skills.
3. It helps to break up his day and give him more to do instead of craving the TV, swing, or listen to his music. I'm really hoping that it makes those things more exciting instead of mundane.
4. Seriously, my kid needs some friends his age. It's hard that he doesn't have any siblings. Really, truly is.
5. Oh, and of course, I get sick of sharing my Bon-bons and Oprah time with him. . .just kidding!
Moving on . . .
What advice do you give your kids before school? I mean, Jackson is still working on his social skills and boundaries. Do you tell them this? (Please ignore the fact that Mulan's voice is dubbed out -- I really only wanted Mushu's advice anyway.)
Luckily we've met the teacher, and she is NOT this:
or this:
I was sort of hoping that Jackson would be as excited as Nemo on his first day of school, and then I could get great exciting pictures of Jackson on the bus. I mean, he really is excited to move on from preschool and to Kindergarten. However, sadly, as soon as the bus pulled up (an hour before school, mind you -- because he has to go to a school 15 minutes away), my son was in tears. He struggles with change and being away from Mommy. He's had babysitters, and so it's not that he's not used to this, but either way, it broke my heart. Thus, no pictures of him getting on the bus. My hands were full hugging and comforting him and trying not to break down myself. In this last picture, you really can see the hidden worry in his eyes as he waits for the bus.
I love my kid, and I still can't believe that time has come and gone so quickly!
One of my friends recently wrote that she wondered why parents are so excited to send their kids off to school. Well, here are my reasons:
1. He needs more than just me for socialization and academia.
2. It really is academic -- he is ready for more reading and math skills.
3. It helps to break up his day and give him more to do instead of craving the TV, swing, or listen to his music. I'm really hoping that it makes those things more exciting instead of mundane.
4. Seriously, my kid needs some friends his age. It's hard that he doesn't have any siblings. Really, truly is.
5. Oh, and of course, I get sick of sharing my Bon-bons and Oprah time with him. . .just kidding!
Moving on . . .
What advice do you give your kids before school? I mean, Jackson is still working on his social skills and boundaries. Do you tell them this? (Please ignore the fact that Mulan's voice is dubbed out -- I really only wanted Mushu's advice anyway.)
Luckily we've met the teacher, and she is NOT this:
or this:
I was sort of hoping that Jackson would be as excited as Nemo on his first day of school, and then I could get great exciting pictures of Jackson on the bus. I mean, he really is excited to move on from preschool and to Kindergarten. However, sadly, as soon as the bus pulled up (an hour before school, mind you -- because he has to go to a school 15 minutes away), my son was in tears. He struggles with change and being away from Mommy. He's had babysitters, and so it's not that he's not used to this, but either way, it broke my heart. Thus, no pictures of him getting on the bus. My hands were full hugging and comforting him and trying not to break down myself. In this last picture, you really can see the hidden worry in his eyes as he waits for the bus.
I love my kid, and I still can't believe that time has come and gone so quickly!
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