My son’s class took a Walking Trip to the neighborhood Library. At first I thought it was a bit cheesy for a group of third and fourth graders, but the kids had a blast.
Most of the kids sat patiently and listened to the Librarian and participated intently as she read them two books.
Some of the kids had a rough time concentrating beyond the Lego table but for the most part, they did well.
Until it was time to go.
Like herding cats.
Who didn’t want to wear their coats. Or hats. Or gloves. Or carry their notepad with their Stride Counts on them.
We managed to coral the kids- mostly layered up- out the door without major incident and only losing one kid to his bathroom fetish.
Gotta count the victories where we get them.
The walk back- or mad dash, in some cases- was far less organized or controlled. The teacher, Javier, had me take the lead with a couple boys who were twitching from pent up energy and we bounced ans jogged and skittered our way back up the hill.
We were being so goofy, poor Javier had to practically bellow my name to get my attention so I knew where to halt with my rowdy crew.
Part of me felt guilty for not acting like a totallly responsible adult and keeping my little gophers in check…
But a bigger part of me knew Javier was grateful I could get the boys to burn off some energy and still maintain some control and leave him free to manage the more challenging kids.
So I have come to two very important conclusions from our excersion to the library-
1. I am eternally grateful God only granted me two kids and only one of which who is Autistic
2. At 35 I am still just another kid on the field trip.
And now I need a nap!