Ok. So. I've only been half bad about keeping up to date on my blogging and since nobody is holding me accountable I blame you all. :) Just kidding. It's my fault but like I said I have a lot of other New Years resolutions I've been working on and this one has fallen behind. In related news my "drink more water" resolution has been going swimmingly...literally. Do you know how difficult it is to drink 64 oz. of water (8 8 oz. glasses) in a day?! I literally spend most of my time peeing. I'm sure you all needed to know that but that's important information right now in my life.
Another reason I've been blogging less is just basically sheer exhaustion. It's been like this all year. My social lie has been more active (thankfully) and that means going out more...which also means recovering more from going out. On top of that school has been a shit show since the first day...you wanna know why? PRESCHOOL. I FREAKING HATE PRESCHOOL.
There I said it. Actually I say that every day. Every damned day. My teachers ask "how's it going?" and all I have to answer is "preschool" and they know I'm pissed.
Why? Let me break it down. First of all my assumption about the absurdity of preschool was spot on. Kids who are 2, 3, and 4 years old should be shitting their pants at home, not at school. Not to mention the fact that I am not a teacher, nor your babysitter, I am a "language assistant" and I personally don't feel like helping small children not soil themselves is part of that description....and yet here I am. They are little savage beasts. Best birth control you could ever imagine. I'm not going to have kids until I'm retired, or I'm going to raise them a lot better than these kids (which shouldn't be hard...they are savage little terrorists).
Anyways the first months were frightening to say the least. We'd have to take group potty breaks to the bathrooms where it's one big fornication hole. Not really, it just bugs me. I would tell anybody that I'm extraordinarily mature for my age and beyond my years with wisdom....but not with small children. And their bodily functions. When I went to preschool the girls would go to the bathrooms all at once and then the boys would come in afterwards by themselves. Maybe I'm overly sensitive but everyone goes at the same time here (which is just poor planning and laziness because you know what comes next? The awkward questions...they may not be able to pull their own pants down but they sure are observant. "Chelsea why does Marta not have a pito? Where is your pito? Chelsea do you have a pito?" If the kids don't know the basic colors in English trust you me they sure as hell won't understand "stop asking why Marta has a pito and just pee in the hole".
That wasn't the only scarring bathroom incident. I went with this little boy and he just stood there. He looks up at me with his little doe eyes and says "I have to pee." So I rubbed his back and said okay, go pee! He just kept staring at me and repeating "I have to pee..." and I kept urging him "come on! You can! You can go pee!" I was like a bathroom cheerleader for small people. He eventually started crying and I tried to calm him down, in Spanish even, and nothing. So I called for backup and apparently the problem was that he can't pull down his own pants. My first thought was, "oh hell no...". NO. I'm not undressing children, especially male ones. Who are 4 years old! Gives me the heebie jeebies. Plus I don't exactly think he was telling the truth about not being able to pull down his pants. We have this one kid named Hansiel that undresses himself all the damned time and throws his shoes at the other kids. And he's 3. He's a whole other terror.
The part that's shitty about all of this situation is the fact that I really am good with small kids...it's just the atmosphere. In this teaching setting I'm dying a slow painful death and I sleep most of the weekend to recover. When I see my preschool kids on the street it's wonderful. They love me, they hug me until I have to tap out for oxygen. I'm patient, I'm kind, I'm loving, I'm caring (contrary to what the above might lead you to believe.) They adore me. And they thing I'm magic. I heard them talking about me once and they said that because I "come from a far away land like England [eye roll] and speak English I've got magical powers. Plus I'm probably a princess because I have yellow [eye roll] hair." Quote unquote! They worship me and I really love it. The bad part is the other teachers. The person in charge of preschool, the principal, is the same principal in primary school...so she's got her hands full in 1st-6th grade (and trust me there's plenty of other shit [literally] going on there that she has to deal with. Not to mention preschool is in an entire other building so none of them ever cross paths. They do whatever the hell they want to do and get away with murder. Whenever I go down there they're watching YouTube videos of songs or children shows. That wouldn't bother me, except for the fact that once they get to 1st grade they're supposed to have a set of skills that they don't have. Some of those basic skills they lack are reading, writing, being able to sit properly in a chair for more than 2 minutes, paying attention to the teachers, following class rules, basic hygiene and cleanliness...I could go on. I only have 15 minutes with each class...on Monday I have an hour with the 3 year olds, Wednesday and hour with the 4 year olds, and Friday an hour with the 5 year olds. The 5 year olds I actually like, because they're the closest thing to normal students. They understand quite a bit of English, enough to let me give the entire class in English without the teacher's help. That's the problem. They say "Chelsea, don't speak any Spanish! You only have 15 minutes and we want them to hear as much English as possible." But then the teachers leave me alone (which is illegal by the way...). And the kids start running around the classroom. And hitting the other kids. And eating crayons (one day one kid ate 3 crayons before I caught him and I only knew that because of the different shades of remnants in his mouth...that is why it's illegal to leave me alone with them haha). The times I've asked them to stay they get huffy with me and act like I'm a complete waste of space. Thanks. I also don't like to keep asking them because I shouldn't have to be like, "hey, can you do actually do your job? Okay thanks."
So anyways. That was one big rant of why I've been stressed lately. I'm excited though because I'm going to start teaching the 4 and 5 year olds the alphabet so that will take up 26 weeks :D If I end up staying next year I'm going to have to get up the cojones to tell them politely that I refuse to be in preschool, because I just can't handle it. It's so unfortunate too because I am so awesome with the primary kids. I've finally hit a groove.
This is getting lengthy so I'll cut this off now. Tune in shortly for an update I'm going to title called "Red-Headed Horrors and Profane Utensils". It's gonna be a great one, the crazy nun is back at it again!
