#preschool teacher
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encouraged to talk to babies at work because it helps their brain develop a concept of language and sound so i’ll be damned if i’m not info dumping
you, small child, will know all about the insanely powerful hit dnd podcast jrwi with charlie slimecicle, grizzlyplays, condi condifiction and spittake sideshow-act beebo bizly
#jrwi#jrwi riptide#jrwi show#jrwi pd#jrwi prime defenders#jrwi bitb#charlie slimecicle#slimecicle#bizly#bizly channel#grizzlyplays#condi#condifiction#spittake#preschool teacher#preschool
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OOTD ♥️🕸️
Also dyed my hair blue but it just looks grey 🥲
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One of my preschoolers dragged me across the playground to point out a patch of white fungus and asked me what it was. I told her it was fungus and she didn't know what that meant so I told her mushrooms are fungi also. She stared at the fungus patch for a moment and then cheerfully said, "I can hear them talking to each other! But not how we're talking." LMAO girl what in the fae changeling child 😭😭😭
#she also said later in the convo 'i can hear mushrooms growing in my yard at my house' and then threatened to turn me into ice with her wand#preschool#teacher#preschoolers#kids#preschool teacher
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“Hi! I’m Taylurky and welcome to the Eras Tour!”
@taylorswift @taylornation
#taylor swift#Taylurky Swift#benefits of being a preschool teacher - being expected to participate#turkey in disguise#the eras tour#preschool teacher#this is the greatest thing ive ever done full stop
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I shouldn't be afraid of going back to work every day, because most of the kids in the class are unbearable, the stuff that I have to do while being there are too much and the headmistress as well as the cleaning lady, do my life as hard as they possibly can and they always make me feel as if I'm falling behind on my job, despite being busy all of the time.
#scorpion-flower#we were the kings and the queues#preschool#preschool teacher#text#text post#text posts#work#work life#working#employment#jobs#workplace
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being a preschool teacher is insane because why are u telling me to do 5 million things at once for minimum wage?
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Been feeling cute soo far this week ☺️
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when you tell people you work in early childcare, they always say things like “omg how do you do it? i could NEVER deal with changing diapers for a living!” and the thing is that working in early childcare IS extremely difficult sometimes, but that’s never been because of a dirty diaper or a huge lunch mess or tantrums all day long. the worst blowout diaper in the world has never made me consider a new career. i’ve had days where my ears are genuinely ringing from all the screaming by the time i get home, and not wanted a new career. that stuff can be difficult in the moment, but in terms of things that make these jobs difficult? diapers and tantrums don’t even register. that’s small potatoes.
the truly hard part about working with little ones is this: you grow to love those little monsters with your whole entire heart. those kids are your BEST FRIENDS. they make your life so happy and lovely and meaningful. and yeah, sometimes you spend a decent amount of time wiping up poop, but you spend even more time in awe of how incredible these little humans are and how lucky you are to get to be in their life, to be somebody they trust to care for them.
when you work in early childcare - as a teacher, as a nanny, anybody whose full time job is seeing the same children every day - you spend months, years with these kids. you cry over their struggles, and you text everyone you know when they pee on the toilet for the first time, and you have anxiety nightmares about them getting hurt, and you open amazon to buy a new planter and inevitably find yourself looking through endless pages of toys and activities and books you think they might like. sometimes they’re having a bad day and you want to tear your hair out because nothing you’re doing seems to make any difference, and then sometimes you’re having a bad day and they hug you and tell you they love you and give you a sticker that’s a picture of a wooden barrel, and you go home and put it on your mirror and then you smile when you see it every single day. you and the children develop inside jokes. you have special nap time rituals. you have full conversations with facial expressions alone. you can’t wait until their parents come, because this child just said THE funniest thing and no one else in your life knows them well enough to think it’s as funny as you do. sometimes, you have to translate their speech to their own parents. you LOVE them - and they love you too.
and then - then, one day, the job ends. the kids move away, or the family’s needs change, or you get fired, or you have to leave the job for any number of reasons - and the job ends. and then, suddenly, these little people who have your whole heart, who you genuinely wake up every morning excited to see, who you would absolutely die for with no hesitation??? they’re just… gone. they’re not in your life any more. you don’t get to see them. you don’t get to talk to them. if you’re lucky, maybe their parents have social media and post pics every few months. maybe if you have their parent’s number you can text periodically and they’ll let you know they’re doing well. but unless you’re one of the very few lucky, lucky people who end up developing relationships with the parents that are close enough to last a lifetime, AND having your schedules and communication and lifestyle habits sync up enough so that you can continue to see them a couple times a year??? that relationship is just… over.
and sometimes… sometimes, you don’t even get to say goodbye. you don’t get a chance to tell the children that you’re not gonna be around anymore, to give them a last hug, to remind them one last time how loved they are, how happy you are to know them. sometimes you have no clue that the last day is the last day. sometimes there’s no heads up. sometimes you have to leave suddenly, and you have no way to contact or keep in touch with their family. sometimes a parent tells you they’re switching schools on their way out the door. sometimes you go into work one day, and at lunch time your boss pulls you into her office and tells you to pack your things and go. sometimes you’re on the way home on friday and you get a text from the dad saying that your contract has been terminated effective immediately and your final payment has just been sent over venmo. sometimes the last time you see the children, you told them you’d see them tomorrow, and you didn’t know you were lying.
that’s the thing about childcare - it’s quite literally your job to care. and when the job ends, all that caring you did? the care you hold for those kids? it doesn’t just go away. it never goes away.
and then, what makes it so much more painful: those kids you leave? the ones you’ve spent days and months and years caring about, loving? that little boy whose first steps you watched, that little girl who ran to hug you every morning, that toddler who turned you into a person who becomes excited over another person’s toileting habits? you are going to remember that child - every single one of those children - for the rest of your life. you’re gonna miss them every day. you will never stop loving them. and you will know that they loved you - that they trusted you, cared for you, felt at home with you the same way you felt at home with them. but you will also know this: they’re going to forget you.
sometime very soon - maybe in a few months, maybe in a year, certainly in the next few years - that child’s last memory of you will fade. they’re not gonna remember the time you spent together, or the special nickname they had for you. they’ll be out there living their life, growing and changing and becoming the amazing human being you knew they were, and you’re not gonna get to know who they grow up to be. they’re not gonna know that somewhere in the world, there’s somebody who misses changing their diapers and wiping their noses and listening to them sing baby shark under their breath while they work on a puzzle. they won’t know you. they won’t think about you. they won’t miss you at all.
when you tell people you work with young children, 9 out of 10 times, they say something about how difficult it must be - because of the diapers, or the tantrums, or the mess. they say things like, “wow, you must have a lot of patience,” and “i could never deal with that level of chaos,” and “you’re a saint; if they weren’t my child, i’d never be able to handle the constant screaming.” and, like, yeah, sometimes it can be stressful when you’ve had a kid screaming for eight straight hours, or when a preschooler vomits directly into your lap. those things certainly aren’t fun, but they’re also not what makes the job hard. they’re drops in the ocean. they don’t make you reconsider your entire career path.
the hard part about working in early childcare, honestly, is the same thing that makes the job so great: the love. your job - as a teacher, or a nanny, or a night nurse, or a paraprofessional - is to love. to love these children, to care for them, to share their pain and their joy and their struggles and their triumphs - that’s what we do every day. and, to be fair, i’ve known people who work in this field who don’t form loving connections with the children in their care, who do leave their work at work and don’t bond with the kids and, yea, often, those people will say that the worst part of the job was the diaper changes or the tantrums. nothing against those people - the work is not for everyone, and i don’t begrudge anyone who is in their job simply because they needed a job. but those people, from what i’ve seen, are the vast minority. for the most part, the people who do this work do it with love. they do it because they love the children they care for, they love getting to watch humanity grow, they love those tiny people they spend their days with.
that same love is the hardest part of the job - knowing that you’ll be giving these children your whole heart, even though tomorrow could be the last time you ever see them, even though you won’t get to see them grow or know the amazing people they’ll become. knowing that you’re gonna give that child all the love and care they deserve, whether or not you’ll get the privilege of being in their life long-term. when people say to me, “oh goodness, that must be so hard - dealing with crying babies all day long!” most of the time all i can do is chuckle, because, yeah, they’re right, it certainly is hard - but not at all for the reasons they’re thinking.
#d speaks#this got. SO long#childcare#early childhood education#early childcare#nannying#preschool teacher#this started off as a vent post because i’m missing my old kids and turned into a full blown essay lmao#tldr it sucks when u love toddlers and infants and then they disappear from ur life because!!! the love doesn’t disappear !!!!#and they don’t have phones you can’t just text them and be like hey bitch wassup i miss you!!! they can’t read!!!!#editing because ofc i had typos and also i left out a sentence that i like lol
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Teachers deserve more.
[ID: a tweet from Noah Kahan that reads "Pay our damn teachers more."]
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Me who has always hated teaching, never imagined there would be a day in which she would feel sad on the weekends because she misses her students terribly.
(in the first pictures there's Adam who owns my heart and every bit of my soul❤️)
#new experiences#preschool teacher#dz#algérienne#algerian#algérie#algeria#dzair#teaching#random pics#mine#annaba
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me when that one two year old will NOT go down for nap and will be as LOUD AS POSSIBLE to try to make my life as difficult as possible
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Had a category 5 preschool teacher moment yesterday
#yes a child was gnawing on chalk like a popsicle 😭#preschool teacher#teacher#teaching memes#teacher memes#preschool
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‘TIS THE SEASON TO BE OVERSTIMULATED
FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA
MY PATIENCE WITH MY STUDENTS
IS COMPLETELY SHOT
THEY DON’T WANT TO FOLLOW DIRECTIONS
FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA
I AM GOING TO RIP MY HAIR OUT
FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA
#teachers of tumblr#daycare teacher#preschool teacher#pre-k teacher#teaching right before the holidays is not fun thanks for asking#im overstimulated#adhd#nuerodivergent#ya girl is struggling
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I'm mad.
I'm frustrated.
I'm sad.
I'm feeling guilty, selfish, and like the bad guy.
I don't get summers off. I might be a preschool teacher, but my school has a summer program. If I don't work in the summer, I don't get paid in the summer. I have bills to pay, and I need to eat.
My weekends were already sacred, and already encroached upon by my family and their extroverted need to be in each other's business constantly. I already had to turn down an out of town party and a cookout for Friday. (My mother tried to guilt trip me into going to the party with her, and only let up when I said I had to work late. In her words, "I don't like to go to things alone") Yesterday, I slept in (yay), but got roped into helping cook and eating family dinner at my aunt's (not yay).
Today was going to be all for me. I have summer lesson plans to write up. I have a classroom to start planning out for the school year. I have fics I want to write and work on. I just want to get a chai and find a cool, shady place outside of my house to write.
Instead...my dad has called me six times since 8:00am. All to do with his refrigerator.
*He wanted to come up and bring me his frozen chicken
*He wanted me to check my refrigerator to see if it has a temperature gage
*He called again to ask if my refrigerator had a temperature gage, what it was set up as, and how he should set his up
*He called me because he couldn't get ahold of my mother
*He called to see if I was awake and would be home when he brought the frozen chicken over (but did not tell me when he planned to bring the chicken over)
*He "accidentally" called me when he tried to call my cousin, but also wanted to talk about his refrigerator and how my mother was not answering her phone (they are divorced)
What this tells me is that my dad, once again, is not taking his anxiety medication like he should. He gets fixated on small things, like his refrigerator being "too cold". If you don't engage with him or go against what he is saying, he gets extremely agitated and yells.
So, I went over to my mother to tell her about his mood...only to find out that her phone was ringing.
Something you, my lovely people reading this, shoukd know is that mother is progressively becoming more and more HoH every day. It is one of the reasons she constantly wants me to be around. She does not know ASL, or plans to learn it. Her job has offered to pay for her to get an hearing aid, but her pride won't let her do it.
Another thing you might need to know is that I have had multiple talks with my family about how I am not the family answering service. I am not their GPS. If you can't find or get ahold of someone...try them again. Don't call me to find them or give them a message, unless it is an emergency.
I have wondered why lately I have been getting more calls dot those reasons.
...
My mother had her phone in her purse, in the other room. Far away in the other room.
On purpose.
I could tell when I brought it to her. She looked like a child that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. She knows she can't hear her phone when it is a couple of feet away. It is *impossible* when it is in her purse. And my mother is a smoker. She always keeps her cigarettes in her purse, and said purse near her to go outside to smoke.
"Oh Luna, nobody ever calls me."
I had to stress, again, that Yes. They. Do! And when they can't get her, they call me! So stop *hiding* your phone, please.
She answered, and it was my dad. Talking about his refrigerator. I said to her that he was having an episode and not taking his anxiety medication again. She blew me off and told me I needed to be more sympathetic. I said that it isn't about sympathy. I take the calls. I walk him through things. I am patient. I am kind. But something is wrong, and I don't want to be responsible for his anxiety all day. She says that I'm not responsible for him and...
Let's think, folks.
If I left to go do the things that I needed/wanted to do...both of my parents would try and blow up my phone, angry.
Why did I leave? Why didn't I act as a buffer for them? Why didn't I act as my mother's interpreter? Why didn't I help my dad figure out what to do with his refrigerator? While didn't I keep everyone calm and redirected?
Why didn't I sit there, silent, until I was needed?
And in all of this...I feel responsible. I feel guilty. I feel like a bad daughter.
But, like, fuck. Why can't my parents take care of themselves? Why am I expected to be my mother's hearing aid? Why am I expected to be my father's anxiety medication?
Is that all I am?
EDIT:
An update of sorts. My dad came up and gave me the frozen chicken. He said he was going to go home and take a nap. I told him that I would probably go work on lesson plans, then maybe go by the school to organize things for the upcoming week.
I left the house.
I went to Starbucks to work on my lesson plans (*cough*andwritefic*cough*)
And...my dad called. Asked me what I was doing. Remember, I *told* him what I planned to do today.
I said I was at Starbucks.
"You're at Starbucks? Well, nobody wants to do anything with *me* anymore."
I know it is his anxiety talking. I know he is going to go into a yelling fit about how people (me) don't love him or want him around unless he is paying for something.
Let's make it clear. I make it a point that he doesn't pay for anything for me, purely for the reason that I can say, "I love you and never ask you to pay for anything. I even paid for your coffee when we went out yesterday. Are you doing okay? Are you taking your medicine?"
I wasn't coddling or soft with him today. I didn't give him any reassurances. I didn't give him a chance to to drag me into an anxiety fueled blame-match. Instead, I flatly said, "I am working on my lesson plans. I don't have time to work on my lesson plans anymore. I need to work on them right now." and left it at that.
He paused, then said that he would talk to me later.
I wish it was that he realized that I wasn't purposely trying to not spend time with him (even though I saw him earlier, and he said he was go home to take a nap). But...no. That is the sad part of having parents with mental illness. When he isn't taking his medication like he should, he gets so paranoid. It won't matter that I am doing work. I didn't tell him where I was going. I went alone. I didn't invite him to go with me.
#luna says#luna's family sucks#mental health#mentally tired#preschool teacher#hard of hearing#anxiety
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My kids today at preschool are being a nightmare to put it lightly. Luckily I married literally the sweetest man alive 🥺😭
#also LMAO at Siri correcting Ember to Emma ☠️#personal#me#Alyssa and Levi#couple#preschool teacher#like#Rosie legit shut her pants. AGAIN#shit not shut#I’m not editing the tag
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End of the school year is hitting me hard. Then one of my kiddos asked for more Pooh bear read aloud time . . . How could I say no?
#bookstagram#books and libraries#leah’s library#teacher life#preschool teacher#winnie the pooh#read aloud#books and literature#childhood favorites
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