Finishing Strong

Things have been hectic at the daycare.

A sudden influx of students causes an uproar anyway. But, weirdly, most of our new recruits are very, very young. Our "preferred" age-range is 3-6, but we recently began accepting kids as young as two. And parents are taking advantage of this early, early childhood care like crazy.

The only problem is, two-year-olds present a whole new set of complications in an already-diverse classroom. They're just learning to follow directions, potty training, and sometimes adjusting to being away from mom for the first time. Two-year-olds are babies in many ways...and what do babies do best?

They cry.

And cry.

Babies cry especially when they're really, really tired and fighting sleep. But, if one of them starts the fussing, it keeps the others awake. And this leads to a horrid cycle of call-and-response crying from overtired, overstimulated two-year olds.

This, naturally, keeps the older ones awake, too. But overtired 3-and-4-year-olds don't cry as much as they misbehave: jumping on their cots and yelling "no" when told to stop. Basically, the daycare lately has resembled what most people picture when I say I teach ten or so students in an inclusive, special education setting: that must be madness, they think.

I assure these individuals that, most of the time, routine and consistant expectations can keep even large groups of kids working well together. Big kids teach the little kids, everybody has a job to do, and teachers/parents who can manage this system are considered "miracle-workers," when it's not very complicated in practice. Large familes were the norm much longer than small familes have been, and that's how parents coped "back in the day."

However, I don't know too many parents who get "surprised" with a new two-year-old every other week and are expected to incorporate them into the family. I can testify, even with my incredible, miracle-working powers over children (har!), that our current situation DOES produce madness. And each of my shifts lately has tested my patience to the limit.

(I'd just like to reiterate how terribly awful some of these cry sounds are. Mommies know the difference between a sad, "I'm-hurt" cry, and a whiney "I'm slightly annoyed" cry. But, many of these kids whip out their ear-splitting "I'm angry!" cries, and it drills right through your head! Kind of stresses me out just thinking about it.)

Anyway, I'm mentioning this because I'm scheduled to begin my maternity leave next month. My permanent maternity leave, that is. Yet, more than once lately I've wondered, "Am I going to make it?"

It's VERY easy to wonder whether my services are making a difference in the classroom right now. In fact, I'm still struggling to figure out how, exactly, this form of selflessness is advancing the Kingdom. I mean, just about anybody can march into a room and listen to toddlers scream for a few hours. But can anybody carry a banner that reads "Break your Eardrums for Jesus"? Who is benefitting from this "ministry," which feels more like endurance than proactive service these days?...

I want to finish strong. But, part of me wonders if God isn't allowing the last few weeks of work to be rough just so I'll welcome the new phase of my life more gladly....I just wish He would give me a glimpse of the fruits of my labor before I move from this battlefield to another.

----
Anyway, I haven't been stressed enough not to catch a couple quotables from my older kids. For those who have missed those darn things they say, I'll share.

Me: Those water toys are dripping on the floor, and that's dangerous! What does dangerous mean?
4-year-old: It means somebody could fall!
Me: That's what it means this time. What can we do to fix the problem?
4-year-old: I'll need a towel! I can put it on the floor and drip the toys across this towel and then the water gets soaked on the towel.
Me: Good plan
4-year-old: Yep, then the floor doesn't get no danger.

4-year-old: I'm going to take the lima beans out of my vegetables, because I don't like them.
Me: That sounds logical...
4-year-old: Yes, it's logical.
Me: What does logical mean?
4-year-old: Uhh...I don't know.
Me: It means it makes sense.
4-year-old: Yes, makes sense.

-a few minutes later-
4-year-old: I'm going to leave my cup here and throw away my plate first, so I don't spill.
Me: Very logical....what does logical mean, again?
4-year-old: Um...I don't remember things good!

3-year-old: I dropped my spoon!
Me: Try asking for another one.
3-year-old: That's a good plan, Miss Amanda.