I have just finished the last of my students’ progress reports. That’s what they call report cards for Hebrew School these days.
I am done with my paperwork obligations. Finished. Completed.
All I have to do is get through two hours of class tomorrow, one hour of awards assembly, give each of the students an hour of rock climbing at the rock climbing gym, give H. her Jeep ride, and my obligations for the 2006-2007 Religious School year are done.
I’m actually much happier that the progress reports are finished than anything else. The rest of the stuff is a snap. I’ll snag half the parents tomorrow and arrange a rock climbing day, then get the rest of them. Two groups of four kids each. As for Hannah and the Jeep ride, I already let her father know he messed me up by having the nerve to have a family obligation tomorrow instead of going to the picnic, where I would have given his daughter the Jeep ride. So he feels guilty and will meet me somewhere on the next free, sunny day.
Yup. School year is almost finished. As soon as b’nai mitzvah season is over (third week in June), I’ll also have my weekends back. But at least I can start sleeping in again on Sundays. Aaah. I can feel the relaxation setting in already. Free until next September. Then it starts all over again, with the class that is currently terrorizing the school. (It’s the largest and the most, shall we say, enthusiastic.) ((Okay, when they leave, I say, “Third grade stampede!” and my students wait until it subsides before they exit our classroom. And may I say, NFW will that be happening next year.)) (((And when I say “NFW,” I mean, “N.F.W.” I have already made my presence known to the third graders on the subject of their behavior.)))
Well, I have all summer to recharge for that challenge. When all is said and done, they’re still only nine years old. And I have Authority Voice down pat. Last week, I spent the afternoon with Sarah and Larry and the kids watching Max’s T-Ball game. Game’s over, we’re getting ready to leave, and Nate wants me to watch him do this neat thing, which turns out to be swinging around a pole on the edge of a hill and leaping downward. “Ah, Nate—that’s a really dangerous thing to do and you can’t be doing that again,” I said. Sarah backed me up on that, and Nate was chagrined. Max had seen all this, but had not heard Sarah and me tell Nate what a dumb idea that was, and because he idolizes Nate and wants to do everything Nate does, Max grabbed the pole and started to swing. “Max, NO!” I said loudly, basically in unison with Sarah. Then I turned to her and said, “Sorry. Instinct.” She was fine with it.
Mommy Voice. You don’t have to be a mom to have one.
“… students’ progress reports. That’s what they call report cards …”
I hope no one received a “deferred success” report as they are wont to phrase it in some schools in Britain :-)
If I were to have received a “deferred success” report, I would have received “negative gratification” ranging from “deferred dating and/or car privileges” to (when I was younger) “leather reinforcement.”
chsw
Nah. My kids all pass. I don’t think my synagogue knows the meaning of the word “fail.”
But the kids don’t know that, so when they’re being particularly unruly, I tell them that if they don’t learn their mastery skills, they’ll have to repeat fourth grade.
Works every time.
How many of them follow your site and will have seen this comment.
None of them. They’re fourth graders. It’s possible some of their parents read this blog, but I don’t think many of my fellow congregants read my blog at all.