Splat

In another episode of you can't make this stuff up, here's what happened yesterday:

A student who had been gone told me she was gone because she had head lice.  I said, "Do you still have it?"  She said she didn't know.

A BYU professor came to do a demonstration math lesson for the practicum students and third grade teachers.  He taught in my class.  My team and I were wondering 1) how my students would behave and 2) how he would handle it if they behaved "normal" which is anything but.

For the first 20 minutes or so of the lesson, they were angelic and it was weird.  It was also not sustainable for them.

Eventually, a girl lay on the floor under her desk.

A boy started eating paper.  He does that mostly when he's hungry and is trying to make a point.

A boy began removing his fake nails (painted black--I can't explain this) and stacking them on the corner of his desk.

I walked around the room and confiscated an inflated balloon (?), a Pokemon card, two different papers from two different students who were just filling up their pages with scribbling.

I took away the chairs from three students because they were using them in ways both bizarre and dangerous (for example, balancing their feet precariously on a yoga ball and then crouching down and shifting from side to side until you think they are going to crash).

The BYU professor mostly ignored them.  I think he thanked his lucky stars they were my problem and not his.  At one point, he turned to the BYU teachers and said, "The problem with being a teacher is the kids."  It felt kind of mean but kind of true in the moment.

During library, a student had what can only be described as a complete meltdown.  

It was a raucous afternoon.  How is it still so many days until Christmas vacation when they are this amped up?  It didn't help that my classroom was 77 degrees.  I told the custodian and I said, "The thing is that I'm wearing this Christmas sweater."  (And expending a lot of energy trying to survive in there.)

He said, "Maybe you need to dress like it's Christmas on a tropical island."

Maybe.

On the way to P.E., a student had a bloody nose.  An impressive bloody nose.  He was at the end of the line with the BYU teacher and I didn't realize he had dripped drops of blood all down the hall.  I alerted the custodian and took the boy to the nurse's office.

Some days you write about how sweet they are and some days you...don't.