Yesterday we went to the Bean Museum at BYU. I had a plan that I would be with my hardest student and I had the rest of the students divided between the parent volunteers. One of the parents was sick and couldn't make it so I had the hardest student and her group.
It was hard.
Before we left, he told me he felt like throwing up. A glimmer of hope! Maybe my day wouldn't be as hard! His mom was at work and he insisted he couldn't call her and he insisted he was feeling better. I didn't really believe him, but I didn't know what else to do.
He rallied health wise, because keeping up with him was the challenge of the day. I had a sweet boy who wanted to look at everything, another boy who just wandered off at every juncture, a climber and then that hardest boy who just ran around and touched everything he wasn't supposed to touch.
It was exhausting.
We finally left the museum and went to a park for lunch and to let them play. It was hot--near 90. A lot of my students were spinning and spinning on the playground equipment and then they lay on the grass moaning because they were so dizzy. We walked back to the school and the students were sort of wilting in the hotter day than they've been used to. My hardest student pulled away from me the entire way back to the school. I had an iron grip on his arm and he seriously would have fallen over if I'd let go because he was pulling so much against me.
Sometimes I wonder why he isn't ever absent, but then I realize that if I were his mother, he would never be absent.
I read to them with the lights dim when we got back to the school. They got a lot of drinks and several of them told me they were going to throw up so I placed the garbage next to them. No one threw up. We survived the day.
We only have one more Monday.
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