Would you look at this? My two children are sitting quietly, amidst other children, listening to a story, in a public setting.
Be still my heart.
I'm a stickler for a good story time. It calls for a careful recipe of finger plays, books, songs, and chances to dance and wiggle. A shortage of any of the above is a preschool disaster waiting to happen. (I've seen it. It's not pretty.)
This story teller did a great job, I have to say. Especially since these are not her students, this is not her classroom, and it's in a public coffee shop with people passing through and house music playing. Lots of variables there, folks. Anyway, I grabbed my iced raspberry mocha with whip, and I settled in. Far enough to give my boys independence, and close enough to make sure they behaved as their Kindergarten-Teacher-Mother would like.
They did really well. Really, really well. With a few exceptions and stories to tell. Which brings us to the next paragraph.
First of all, I snapped this picture just before Tyler began flopping around the middle of the circle. Flopping. That's charming and so not distracting.
The story teller read The Important Book, which happens to be one of my very favorites (especially as a teaching tool for third grade writers, but I digress). It is a poetry book, old as the hills, and it boasts the most important thing about many things. "The important thing about a spoon is that you eat with it..." We talked about a daisy, a shoe, a cloud, and several other important things.
As she talked about the important thing about grass, Tucker piped up, "And grass grows outside. And it's soft. And when I fall on it, I don't get a hurt."
Woah! Whose kid is that?? That's my son interacting with the story teller, and quite eloquently. And he is sitting still and listening. (Never mind his flopping brother.) Well, well. I was beaming inside, and I was ready to pat myself on the back with great exuberance.
I stopped just short, and for that I am thankful. Pride cometh...
Because the next page was about snow. "The important thing about snow is that it's white."
Tucker interrupted: "Not always. Sometimes it's yellow."
The story teller said, "Well, yes. Sometimes it is."
I nearly zipped my hoodie over my head. Woah. Whose kid is that, talking about pee in the snow?? How inappropriate. (I slouched down low and sipped my mocha.)
At the end, she asked the children to tell what is most important about themselves. "Tyler, what is most important about you?"
"I stay in my bed." Of all things? That's what he chose. Indeed, it's important. I'll give him that.
"And Tucker, what is most important about you?"
"I don't stay in my bed." It's true. He doesn't. We're working on that. By the grace of God and a sticker chart.
In the end, they did it. They made it through Story Time, their own stories notwithstanding. And I think we're invited back next Wednesday, too.
Mochas all around.