Oh, How I Love 3rd Graders!

Every sad or grieving adult should be required to bring their heartaches to a classroom full of 8 and 9 year olds!

I did not want to go to school today. I took the morning off and it took everything in me to not call and take the afternoon off as well. There was a constant struggle between me and the steering wheel all the way to school today. All I wanted to do was go home to my squishy couch and mush with my warm, comfortable, brand-new blanket that Taylor and Shelly brought over for us yesterday (did I mention how wonderful this blanket is?? and how wonderful they are??).

But... I fought the urge and went to school. I quickly raced up the stairs and around the corner to my classroom (to avoid as many people as possible). I had arrived just in time for 3rd graders to return (with Sandy) from lunch and recess.

We have a greeting routine in the morning. As the students arrive they are given the greeting choice of a handshake, hug, or high-five. This usually gives me a good gauge at how each student is going to start their day! We decided to greet each other now, since we hadn't seen each other for 2 1/2 days and they had some idea of what was happening (they had made cards and bought flowers...etc).

As the students entered the room, they also offered their sincere condolences for what had happened-- "sorry about your dead baby mrs.brock" and "are you still sick because of your dead baby mrs.brock" and "why did you have your baby already if it was dead mrs.brock".... yeah... by the third "sorry about your dead baby" I was pretty much laughing hysterically.

We met on the carpet in a circle so that we could briefly talk about my return and their time without them. After I briefly explained (a little teary eyed of course) that I had the baby very early... and that it wasn't alive because it was way to early for it to live... it was only the size of a peanut... and that I wasn't pregnant anymore... then we had a few minutes for questions.. and our conversation went something like this:

"why did you have the baby if it was too little?" "it wasn't really growing right so my body needed to get rid of it"

"did you have an abortion?" and then another student answered for me, "no-- an abortion is when you get sick of being married so you divorce yourself"

"where is your baby now?" and of course I'm thinking about the toilet, maxi pads, hospital bed...etc... you can imagine... thankfully the other students answered for me..."duuhh--- all dead babies go to heaven" and "yeah-- and there are all kinds of rooms in heaven -- like way over a hundred" and "yeah-- and there's xbox in heaven" and "you can also get wings in heaven when you're little and turn into an angel"

Then the conversation quickly turned into the fact that the substitute teachers were not angels-- and that one of them told the class to 'shut the hell up'-- and that the other one looked like a cave man... etc.

I love my job. I love that it's not a job to me. I love the way a group of 8 and 9 year olds can bring a smile to my face on a day that I don't feel much like smiling... I love that they give me a million reasons to get up and go to 'work' each day.