Girl Terror accompanied me to school one day last week. We had plans to go to the "Kindergarten Fair" in the afternoon, and due to daycare requests (it's not fair to pick up one child at lunch, and leave the second child to wail into his sandwich) I had to find a spot for her for the morning. I am very fortunate in that my principal also has a small girl in his home, and he understands that sometimes being a parent collides with being a teacher. So long as Girl Terror was being supervised at all times, and did not distract from my teaching, it would not be a problem for her to come to school.
I might be biased here, but Girl Terror is not normal. She loved school. She did not mind sitting quietly for the entire day at all. There was no whining, no pulling at my arm, no need for me to try and be both Mummy and Mrs. F at the same time. We pulled a desk up next to mine, and she sat (cuter than anything alive, I tell you) and did her own thing. During General English 9, she did a giraffe puzzle. I admit, I helped a bit while the students were writing their journals, but it was a 50+ piece puzzle, and she wasn't sure where to begin. During morning break, we went to the cafeteria to get "snack time" and she was very helpful. Big kids in the hall who usually need to be gently elbowed out of the way parted like the Red Sea for this tiny student.
Back in the class for English 10, she got out her playdough, and created all manner of interesting things while the students wrote their Romeo and Juliet test. I was worried she wouldn't be able to stay quiet, but I really should have focused on reminding her that am the teacher. So when one of the first students to finish his test started whispering, it should actually have been me who shushed him. Not her.
Lunch time was fun. She sat on the couch with me in the staff room, eating her cottage cheese (her choice) while I ate my fries (my choice). One of the other teachers offered her a cookie, and she charmed the pants off them when she said "I'll have to ask my Mummy first. Mummy, do you think there might be no peanut butter in that cookie?" We went off to do cafeteria duty, where she finally acted like a little kid, and skipped around the tables full of big kids finishing their lunches. (Teenage girls all say "Awww! How cute! I want one!" and teenage boys all say "A kid? Where? Huh." I worry more about the girls than I do the boys.)
In the afternoon class, she came into her own. We are studying poetry, and during this class we listened to music. Read the lyrics, discuss the poetic devices used, listen to the song. The kids love it. Anyway. Girl Terror got wiggly, and decided to dance. Every song that came on, she said "Oooh! I love this song!" and hopped out of her desk to do a little dance. Then when the song ended, she climbed back onto her seat and continued with her drawing. The students eventually danced with her. Just before class ended, she taught them the Girl Twist "First you point your fingers. Then you kick your legs. Then you turn around, and wiggle your bum, and that's the Girl Twist!" and the Boy Twist "Just like the Girl Twist, but for boys. Of course."
We went to the kindergarten fair. It was okay. She didn't need to get a shot, which was the highlight of the event for her (the not part, not the shot part). I know that next year, she will leave me and go off to school on her own. I worry about her, but I know I shouldn't. I've been to school with her now, and I know that she will be fine. I won't be, but that's another story altogether.