Teacha, Teacha!

I started a Brand! New! Job! yesterday.

I’m teaching two mornings a week at the preschool Alison attended, which is also where Blythe will be going.  Not only am I looking forward to the rewarding blah, blah, blah, but I’m also excited about all the blog fodder these kids are going to provide me with.

From my first day:

A 3 year old, putting on his shoes, looks at my feet and says:

Boy: ” Hey Teacha, why you shoes little like mines?”

Me: “That’s just the size of my feet.”

Boy: “Oh, sowwy you feet didn’t growed.”

Me, torn between letting it drop and correcting his grammar: “Uhh…. thanks.” 

I’ll admit, I was a little nervous about my patience level.  I’ve taught preschool before, and I was damn good at it, too, but that was before I became a parent.  I never lost my patience back then, when I got to walk away from children at the end of the day and go do whatever the hell I wanted.

Now that I have been home with my own kids for nearly six years… let’s just say, my bullshit threshold is a lot tad lower.  I was worried I couldn’t hack it.

But teaching was great, awesome, and wonderful in so many ways that each of them deserves their own dedicated and thoughtful post.  Which I don’t have time to share at the moment, because it’s not like I traded in any of my other responsibilities when I donned my new teaching hat.

The one drawback to my new job is that it’s a fairly structured school which means, you guessed it, a dress code.  For me.

So, today Blythe and I took a trip to Target where I pre-spent my first paycheck on pants and shoes, because my closet goes: jeans – flip-flops – fancy.  And you’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting a bunch of preschoolers wipe their snot paint on my fancy pants.