My kids

I'm always calling my students "my kids." This could be confusing for people who don't know this. Like when I'm wrapping 19 Christmas gifts for "my kids." So yes, I do have 19 kids, for those of you who didn't know. (So much thanks to you parents who entrust them to me for seven hours every day. It is an honor as well as very humbling.) It seems to strike me every year around Christmastime that they really, really are now my kids. I know them. We've worked so hard. We've laughed together. Maybe we've even shed a few tears together. I love them so much. They are mine.

We had a good, short week before Christmas. They were able to fill their marble jar, and the reward they chose was to watch a movie and have a snack. They asked if they could take off their shoes to watch the movie, and when I agreed, I couldn't believe how excited they were! It's the little things... I overheard one girl exclaim, "This is the best day of my life!"

Yesterday I had them act out a little Christmas play. At one point it says, Angel hugs Candy Cane. One of the boys who was off stage was reading ahead, and whispered to the girl playing Angel, "Don't do it!" When she got to that part, she got an appalled look on her face and said, "I'm not going to hug him!" (Poor Candy Cane.)

I gave them each a simple art kit as a Christmas gift. I received more exuberant hugs in one minute than I did the rest of the year combined. One sensitive girl concernedly asked, "How did you pay for all of them?" I assured her they were on sale, and I had a coupon! (I learned a few things from my mom.)

On a Christmas writing prompt I gave them this week, one girl wrote about how she and her family are going on a trip. She told me to write and call, and if I want to know her dad's cell number, he'll lend it to me. (She'll only be missing two days of school.) I'm sure I will miss her, as well as the rest of the class over Christmas break, but I think I'll be able to survive without making any phone calls.

Merry Christmas!