Teacher Tidbits

Before I developed a long-term illness, I was a teacher and lecturer.  During term time I worked as a primary school teacher, and in the school holidays I lectured at a local university on how to teach English as a Foreign Language. I taught a whole range of age groups during my 12 years as a full-time teacher, finally finding the age group that made my heart sing when I was given a reception class of 4 and 5 year olds.  They creased me up.

I've never spent so much time counting heads.  Small children are fast on their feet, and frankly, pretty slippery.  I was determined to have the same number of heads at the end of the day as at the beginning.

The children made me smile, were playful, fun-loving, and unendingly curious about life, why they were here, and what the world was all about.  What's not to love about being around little people like that?  (OK, there was an inordinate amount of vomit and more than enough toilet accidents to go around, and a very unfortunate incident with a child who released the most enormously gassy emission on the OFSTED inspector and apologised to her with "I'm awfully sorry, I'm just a bit windy today", but hey, you get the rough with the smooth.)

One of the funniest things that I ever experienced as a teacher was with a little guy we'll call Roger. Not his real name.  One afternoon, as the school day was winding down, we were all sitting on the story carpet as I read to the children.  Roger politely put up his hand and told me he needed the toilet.  Off he went to the boys toilets, at the other end of the corridor from our classroom.  He was cool, calm and collected, and wasn't particularly in a hurry to get to the loo.

I carried on reading to the children, and after a good few minutes became aware that Roger hadn't come back. He was perfectly safe as there was no way he could get out of the building, but I wanted to be sure he was OK.  Just as I was getting up to go and seek him out, the classroom door was flung open and Roger nonchalantly sauntered in.  He smiled broadly and walked in a bit of a wonky manner onto the carpet where he'd been sitting.  He didn't sit down.

Instead he put all his weight on one leg, lifted up his other leg and gave it a really good shake.

With a lovely little thump, a perfectly formed lump of poop dropped out of the leg of his trousers and landed on the story carpet.

Roger smiled and uttered words that will stay with me forever...

"Oh, there it is!  I wondered where that had gone cos it wasn't in the toilet when I flushed it."

Frankly, you would think that carpet cleared of children pretty quickly wouldn't you?

Nope.

Every kid wanted to take a better look at what Roger had left for us.  One child even started building a little castle of books around it.  Creativity is a wonderful thing.

How Roger walked back up the long corridor with that gift rattling around in his trouser leg is beyond me.

The reason for his delay?  "I spent quite a long time looking for my poo Miss cos I couldn't find it nowhere and it wasn't in the toilet."

Very fond memories.

In honour of Roger's fantastic nonchalance, and the unending enthusiasm of the children I taught, to be fascinated with everything, I've painted a picture of butterflies and birds.  Not poop.


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Do you have any "funny children" stories?


There's Someone I'd Like You To Meet...

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting drinking a cup of tea, when I got a quiet but excited feeling telling me I needed to pick up my art journal and drawing pens.  I did as I was told (!) and my pen started to move across the paper.  The date was Tuesday 17th July 2012.                      .

 When I'd finished, this little treasure was on the page.  Do you remember me posting her picture a couple of weeks ago?


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Well, ever since then, every couple of days or so, I get that excited, itchy feeling, telling me she's wanting to come out onto the page again.  I know this sounds daft, but that's what happens.  Each appearance she makes leaves me smiling.   So far, she's shown up a few times with messages telling me how to enjoy the glitter of each day.  How to make sparkly moments.  How to see the little things that shine brightly.  And how to shine myself.  I've decided not to keep her to myself, as she seems to have a lot to say and wants to say it to more people than just me.  So here she is.

 She's very twinkly, so I named her Twinkly Matilda.  I'll post about her as and when she shows up on the pages of my art journal.  And as I have a feeling she's going to be around for a while, I've added a button to my sidebar so that you can go directly to her whenever you need to find a little nugget of sparkle and glitter to add to your day.

I hope Twinkly Matilda brings you as many smiles as she brings me.

Under The Sea

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I love the sea.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've been fascinated by life under the waves.  I also love aquariums, fish tanks, and any programmes, books or films about sea life. "Splash" and "The Big Blue" are on my list of favourite things to watch.  "Flipper" and "Free Willy" are not.  I'm not good with films about wildlife in peril. They stress me out.
 
Strangely enough, I'm not so fascinated by life under the water in lakes.  It's something about the bottom of lakes being muddy and sticky.  The sea seems full of life and motion to me.  Lakes seem a bit stagnant.  With one exception.  If it's something to do with Nessie, I'm all over it.

One of my favourite things to do if I'm feeling stressed out, is to close my eyes and imagine I'm diving into the sea and can swim and breathe underwater.  I imagine the water flowing over me, cool and fresh. The sunlight filtered in rays through the water.  I especially imagine the water flowing over my head and washing away all my worries.  When I come up from the water, all my stresses are gone.

When I was little I wanted to be a mermaid so I could swim like this for real.  I was forever getting told off by the lifeguards at the swimming baths, for putting my armbands on my legs so my head would go under.  I couldn't swim at the time so it was a tad risky.

When I sleep, I do sometimes dream of mermaids.

Do you love the sea?
     


P.S. Thank you for all your lovely comments about my hair.  I'm loving it.

A New Do

I pulled a book off my friend's bookcase this week, and inside there was a photo of a girl with the most gorgeous do.  The book was full of knitting patterns for scarves (lush) and so the model had her hair styled differently in each picture.  I fell in hair lust.

As is my wont, I phoned my hairdresser friend and asked her if she could fit me in as I'd decided to have all my hair cut off like the model in the book, and was hoping to get it done before I talked myself out of it.  She came over to my house today, smiling and up for the challenge (she is a total star and never fails to style my limp locks into something gorgeous).  Here is the result...


I feel as cute as a button!

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