I don't know how it happened, but another school year is in it's final weeks!  Once again, I will be faced with the most unpleasant task of sending another group of kids off to the junior high jungle...never to be seen again!  Actually, that is not entirely true.  I keep a candy bucket by my desk to lure them back every so often.  I realize that probably sounds a little creepy, but it works!  This is usually the point where that teeny tiny rational part of my brain says "stop talking", so I'll move on.  The other thing that happens at this point every year is that I look back over the year and think about whether or not I have done all I could do for my students.  The bad news:  I could have done better.  The good news:  I've come a long way baby!  If you don't believe me, sit back while I share one of my first substitute teaching experiences:

Even though I obtained a degree in Music Education and student taught at a junior high in 1993, I spent my post-graduate days at a Sylvan Learning Center tutoring kids a few at a time.  I LOVED working with the kids there but doing so did not keep my teaching certificate from expiring.  Fast forward a decade to when a fantastical man named Principal Broderick pulled me into his office while I was volunteering at my kids school one day and talked me into getting back into education.  One of the things he recommended I do was sign up to be a substitute teacher.  Sure.  Why not?  How hard could it be?  Insert scary and ominous music here - duh, duh, duh.....

My first chance to substitute came when one of the first grade teachers came down with a horrible flu.  She made it through Monday but decided that she needed to be face-first on the floor for Tuesday.  I was 36 years-old, 5'12", and a good 1&% pounds, so I figured a bunch of shrimpy 6 year-olds would be easy peasy!  Right?  I won't bore you with the ugly details, but let's just say...they won!  BIG TIME!!!

Thursday night rolled around, and she called to say that she wasn't doing any better and needed to take Friday off too.  She was either CLEARLY medicated or hadn't heard how Tuesday had gone, because she actually invited me back.  That night I began scheming and plotting.  I would win round 2!  I would be victorious!  The next day I showed up armed with a bag of Pixie Stix (thus the birth of the candy bucket).  While candy can be quite a positive motivator (you wouldn't believe how many of my kids I would sell for a Reeses), I am ashamed to admit that I used it for evil.  I put two Pixie Stix in each of their "pockets" on the discipline chart.  I warned them that if they crossed me, I would NOT scream.  I would NOT yell.  I would NOT make my head spin around like that poor, unfortunate Excorcist girl.  I would simply take one of their candies, rip off the top,and laugh maniacally while I downed it!  Before you call my principal, there are two things you should know.  1. That was the maiden voyage AND the sinking of that tactic. I have not tried to use it again. 2. I didn't end up scarring any little darlings for life because it TOTALLY WORKED!!!  There was a volunteer coming to teach a little business mini-lesson that morning, and had those kids sitting quiet as church mice leafing through books when he walked in.  It was amazing!  I was fairly certain that he would be so impressed that I would be receiving some sort of "Substitute Teacher Medal of Valor" award - that's how good they were being...except for that one kid.  Just as the volunteer walked in, this little boy jumped out of his chair, nailed a three-rotation somersault, stuck the landing, and threw both arms in the air with a loud, "Tada!".  WHAT???????  While the volunteer set up his lesson on a table near the window, I very calmly invited this young man to join me on the ramp - just outside the window.  Once the door was closed, I knelt down next to this young man, got my pointer finger within a quarter-inch of his nose, and basically told him there was a new sheriff in town.  I knew this volunteer could see me, but surely he would understand.  When I thought this child and I had reached an "understanding", we headed back in.  Once inside the door, he turned to the volunteer and said the worst thing imaginable.  Can you guess?  Can you?  Can you??????  He said......., "Sorry dad!". 

So again, as I wrap up another school year with another amazing group of kids, I apologize for my failings.   However, I think I can at least end the year without the need to say sorry to any of my moms and dads!  Merry end of school year to you all, and to all a good night!