What Makes a REAL Man & Mommy Dearest

For those who do not know, IT'S TRACK-OUT TIME!!! I've come to realize just what a blessing the year round calendar is in my life. Not only do I value the down time to give my brain a break, but it also allows my kiddos to return to their once adorable state. Now that I've had a week of separation, they once again appear cute and innocent to me ;) Due to the chaos in the weeks leading up to track-out, I did not have the opportunity to post two rather humorous conversations that occurred in my classroom. Read below for your reading pleasure. . .

"I'm a Man"

One of my friends and I take turns keeping each other's students during dismissal time. She teaches third grade, while I teach fourth. One afternoon as I was watching her students I overhead one of her male students say to a classmate,
Student 1: "I'm a man"
Student 2: "What?"
Student 1: "I'm a man"
At this point, I couldn't resist, I had to interrupt. . .
Me: "And who told you that?" (what I wanted to say was, "who has lied to you?", but I refrained)
Student 1: "My Dad."
Me: "Oh really? And why does he say you are a man?"
ARE YOU READY FOR THIS. . . BE PREPARED. . .
Student 1: "Because I can mow the lawn"

Needless to say I spent the next five minutes with my face behind my computer sitting at my desk trying to gain my composure.


"Mommy Dearest"
You know, I often forget what a huge responsibility I have been given when I'm given 25-30 children every year to shape and mold. The other day, although this happens fairly frequently, I was reminded of just how important my job was when a student raised his hand. . .
Me: "Yes, how can I help you?"
Student: "Mom, can I go to the restroom?
Me: "Who am I?
Student: "Oh, I mean, Ms. Holloman. You're like my mom, I spend as much time with you as I do her."

I was left speechless, and God gave me such a vivid reminder of the great responsibility that I can often take for granted. In reality, I spend more waking moments with this little ones than their parents do, so I have a great responsibility and also a privilege. Not to mention, I teach them manners, clean up their puke, bandage their wounds, dry their tears, hug them when they are afraid, discipline them when they do wrong, encourage them to do their best, laugh at their not so funny jokes, teach them how to wash their hands and eat with utensils, and the list could go on and on. . . .


Until next time. . .