Smile, breathe and go slowly. ~Thich Hhat Hanh
Kindergarten teachers never know what each school year will bring. The children that walk through our doors are little mysteries waiting to be discovered. We don't have the advantage upper grade teachers do, because there is no history with these little ones.
My class this year has an interesting dynamic. They are cute, to be sure, but they are loud, all trying to outdo each other with their voices. They are competitive, and touchy, they like to tell stories, they can out wiggle the wiggliest of worms and they keep me on my toes.
I love them all, each in their own way. They all have their wonderful qualities, and they can all drive a person crazy just like any other five-year-old can.
On Monday I was having a crazy day with my class, perhaps it was the impending snow storm, perhaps it was the pressure of all the assessments that are due, all I know is I didn't breathe for a full 180 minutes.
How do I know this? I brought my kids down to lunch, reminding them along the way to "keep your hands to yourself", "walking feet please," "do not slide down the railing", "talkers off in the hall."
The little ones marched into the cafeteria and I marched myself to the college to grab some lunch.
I opened the door and was hit in the face by the cold. I took a deep breath, my first one in 3 hours. Three hours without oxygen. I am a medical miracle.
That one breath felt good. Really good. So much that I needed more. I took another deep one, and another and still another, I was like an oxygen junkie. I couldn't get enough.
I'm a big fan of breathing.
I soaked up as much of that cold air as I could so I could tackle the remaining 2 1/2 hours of my kindergarten day. I walked back in with my lungs, my heart, my brain teeming with oxygen, I looked at my reflection in the glass and I had a smile on my face.
I was drunk, drunk on air!
Someone should bottle this stuff, they'd make a fortune!
But wait, it's free for the taking!