Hit the ground cart-wheeling

Monday - new school, new class. Deep breath, and we're off . . .

Teaching is still amazing, even when the kids are 5 years older. In fact, teaching is even more amazing when the kids are 5 years older.

In what other job would you find yourself up to your armpits in lemonade, fishing raisins out of a sink?

The kids still say top quality stuff; except it's older, like "MISS! MISS!! I know why you can't breathe in space!!" (Miss gets quite excited cos we're doing about gases, and child is about to break new ground into unchartered territory)
"Yes, Ryan, why can't people breathe in space?"
"Cos there's no GRAVITY, Miss!"

This week has had it's share of ups and downs; the new class has been given lots of P.C. adjectives like "lively" and "challenging".
Meaning: they have the minds of a collective organised criminal genius. Within seconds of our second lesson, they had created a complex trading web and not one child was wearing their own name badge. Phil was now Steve, Steve was Greg, Greg was Dan, Dan was Tom, and Tom was . . . THEY'RE 9!!! What are they going to be like when they're 14!!?? By the hammer of Thor; Lord have mercy on their future supply teachers.

We have wrestled with each other, established boundaries (and done a lot of waiting. "I will stand here and WAIT until TWENTY PAST THREE if I have to!" - and I meant it as well) and it was the most amazing feeling this afternoon when our home-time announcement was met with groans, the "liveliest" of the class begging us to be able to stay on after school to carry on working. Ahh. Bless. The beast has been tamed. (For now).

If only I could do the same to my hair.