Behavior Management

Sometimes, I feel like 90% of words that come out of my mouth on any given day fall under the category of "Behavior Management":

"Thank you for asking so politely."

"Please use nice words with your friends."

"It is not okay to hit."

"Second-graders don't throw fits, buddy."

"Let's see who's going to be a first-time listener..."

"I love the way so-and-so is working so quietly."

"I'm proud of you for trying your best!"

"I can't understand you when you use a whiny voice."

"Most people do not like it when you lick them."

Between 31 second-graders two or three days a week, and my own two cubs the other days, I'm in full-on Nurturing Mode almost constantly...and sometimes, as I recently told one of my friends on Facebook (which Ms. Mimi adorably refers to as "Facey-Face"), I suddenly feel compelled to compensate by swearing like a sailor in my Outside Voice while running with scissors.

Disclaimer: I have never actually done this. If the urge ever becomes overwhelming, I will be sure to indulge outside the presence of children.

The nice thing about kids, though, is that you can manage their behavior. Adults? Not so much. They won't crawl over broken glass for a sticker, they don't care whether their behavior or performance earns them a smiley face with a scented marker, and they certainly don't always conform to the standards mentioned above (although, fortunately, most of us seem to have caught on to the whole "licking" thing). I've learned--or, more truthfully, am in the process of learning--that the only adult whose behavior I have any control over is mine. And, as critical as I am of myself most of the time, one thing I can give myself credit for is that I'm always thinking about what I could or should be doing differently. Sometimes this is really overwhelming, and I start getting that old inner-Taz feeling again:

For instance, here's a list of things spinning around in my Taz tornado lately:

1) How can I get Unmotivated Student to put forth even one iota of effort? So far, no amount of encouragement, help, bribery, threats, lost recess, consequences at home, or double-dog daring has made a bit of difference. This week, I had high hopes that my latest scheme--arranging for him to volunteer in a kindergarten classroom twice a day if his work got done--would be some kind of magical solution, but even though he seemed THRILLED to have been chosen, not much changed. Hmmph.

2) How should we celebrate Keira's birthday? Things are complicated this year--we've got two sides of the family, a bunch of conflicting schedules, grandparents who are only in town every few weeks, a few people who aren't on speaking terms with each other, a limited amount of money, a newborn baby who probably shouldn't be dragged to Chuck E. Disease, and a variety of other concerns that made planning a party like one really long game of Jenga. (I hate that game, by the way. I just don't have the patience--build a tower and leave it alone, or grab the block you need, let it all fall down, and be done with it!) Every time I thought I had arranged The Perfect Solution, something else would come up and I'd go back and revise the whole thing. In the end, I decided to put on my big-girl panties and trust everyone else to do the same: we're having a party at our house Saturday, another get-together at a pizza place Sunday (Keira's actual birthday), and cake with Bear's parents after that. We told everyone they're free to attend either or both days, and are letting the chips fall where they may. No more micro-managing for me! As they say, you can't please everyone, but no one can ever accuse us of not having tried, and as long as Keira has a great time, I'll be happy. (Until I look at baby Cassidy and realize Keira was that size, like, five minutes ago and is now an entire half of a decade old...and then I will sob. Because that's what moms do.)

Oh, and by the way? Keira requested an Angry Birds theme for her party this year. Guess how much Angry Birds birthday party merchandise is out there on the market? Not much! There are, fortunately, lots of blogs full of instructions on how to DIY balloons, cupcakes, and even a life-sized slingshot to permanently install (concrete and everything) in your backyard.

Um...no on that last one.

Anyway, I've spent the last several days making balloons into furious feathered friends, and took on the cupcakes tonight for tomorrow's preschool celebration. I found my finished product to be pretty disappointing compared to my own high hopes:


They kind of look like Muppets or something, and not much like Angry Birds at all! Oh, well. I gave myself a big, "Hey, they're just meant to be eaten and preschoolers have low standards--they'll love them!" speech and then presented them to Keira. She looked at them, giggled a little, and then said, "Ehhhh...they don't look so good." And then I went and cried a bit.

Notes to self:
Do not seek validation from preschoolers. Also, quit attempting to be crafty--it almost always ends badly!

3) What can I do about my mischiefy boys who are constantly getting into trouble at recess because they're bored and, well, mischiefy boys? I've finally come up with a temporary (?) solution to this one: I made a Recess Scavenger Hunt and am hoping they'll be all over it, if only for the chance to earn a few class dollars. Here's hoping it's more successful than my efforts with Unmotivated Student.

4) Do I want to take on training 4th-6th graders as reading coaches to listen to struggling younger readers at school every morning during announcements? My friend and I ran this program at my previous school, but starting over from scratch at my new school is gonna require some time...and effort...and planning...and more time. Oh, and willing colleagues. Do I have all of these things? I hope so!

There are, like, a billion other bits of mental shrapnel in my Taz tornado (Are we handling Keira's 4-going-on-14 attitude correctly? When will I get around to potty training Ellie? How can I better differentiate my students' math and homework? Have I totally fallen off the running wagon AGAIN? blahblahblahblahblahblahblah....), but that's a taste of it. If anyone ever figures out how to turn off the human brain with the flip of a switch--I mean, besides watching anything involving the Kardashians--I'm totally signing up!

Until then, I guess I'll give myself an A for effort--or, quit grading myself at all--turn off my own whiny voice, and take a time-out. (Can I move the time-out chair to the day spa??)