...except for me and my monkey! "Everything we see hides another thing. We always want to see what is hidden by what we see." -Rene Magritte

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Taking your work home with you

I have very vivid dreams and I often talk in my sleep. Daniel told me that the other day while we were sleeping, I said, "ETHAN, TAKE THAT TOY OUT OF YOUR MOUTH." Daniel asked, "Ethan, my brother?" and said that I responded--still sleeping--"No, Ethan my co-worker." Which is funny to me, because my co-worker's name is Eduardo, and preschool Ethan isn't one to put toys in his mouth.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Like head lice, but much, much worse

(Warning: Do not read while eating. Or after eating. Or before eating.)

Guess what a kid in my class has? Oh, just a nice case of Enterobius vermicularis. You might know it by its more common names: pinworm, or the grossest fucking thing ever. You know, the little half-inch long worm that lives in your ass and POKES ITS HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS AT NIGHT AND LAYS THOUSANDS OF EGGS.

Wikipedia says, "Except for itching, pinworm infestation does not usually cause any damage to the body. Sleep disturbance may arise from the itching or crawling sensations."

Ewww! Ewwww! EWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!

And according to the information sheet the school director printed out and tacked up next to our sign-in sheet, in some cases, 50% of children in the group become infected. I feel like bathing in acid right now.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

All of my recent pursuits converge in one weird dream

Last night I had a dream that Ron and Hermione (but not Harry) were in my preschool class, and we took a fieldtrip to the recently-opened Creation Museum in Cincinnati--you know, the one that features animatronic cave children frolicking with baby dinosaurs. Eduardo and I had to wait in the lobby because it wasn't free admission for adults. After all the kids finished in the museum, one of the dads who was chaperoning the trip asked to pop into the conference room, where a UN Summit was going on, to speak with the museum's chef. Only it turns out that the dad was passing on a message from the mafia and the chef was really a mob boss, and soon we had to run for our lives.

I like how transparent the origin of each element of the dream is: longs hours at the preschool, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Mafia Princess: Growing Up in the Family of Sam Giancama, and hours spent perusing the Answers in Genesis website.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

"Tricks are what whores do for money. Or cocaine!"

The energy in the classroom was out of control this morning, and Whiplash was having an especially difficult time, so to calm the kids down I announced that there would be a magic show on the carpet after snack. All thirteen preschools gathered around in a squirmy circle as I made up some very simple I-pulled-this-toy-from-your-ear-oh-look-it-disappeared-into-your-belly-button-type tricks, using these half-dollar-sized multicolored felt discs and plastic sea creature toys. Everyone had a turn to be my assistant and have a toy disappear into their ear, eye, mouth, or hair, then reappear somewhere else. Every time a little octopus wiggled out of a child's ear, the kids screamed with delight. They spontaneously broke into applause. "It's really magic!" they yelled.

They were so into it, and it was so easy to convince them that it was really magic, that I actually felt a little guilty for tricking them. I mentioned it to my co-teacher Eduardo later that day, and we talked about how easy it is to forget how young the kids really are. Since my class is the oldest group at the school, I always view them in relation to the infants, or the toddlers; in comparison, they seem mature, sophisticated, worldly. They're such smart, autonomous, strong, authentic beings; it's a reality check to see them strapped into their car seats for a field trip and realize just how vulnerable, young, and innocent they can be.