I subbed in a second grade room for the last three days. One of my biggest peeves about the younger grades is parents. Every time I'm in a class of Kindergarteners, first graders, or second graders, I get parents that want to "check in" but have nothing to say. This is how it went yesterday: I got all the kids settled on the front carpet for a story. The carpet is big, but prime carpet real estate is as close as humanly possible to the rocking chair in the corner, where I sit. It took some doing to get them all situated and then I started the story. Soon after I started, the class phone rang. I had to stop the story, try to get through the glut of second graders crowding the chair, rush to the desk and answer the phone. It was a parent. She wanted to know how her kid was doing. But when these parents check in, they are on dreamy mommy time, and seem not to have any idea that they have just completely stopped a class that has 25 seven-year-olds in it. They talk torturously slow, like this:
Me: (answering the phone) Hello, Mrs. Anderson's room.
Obnoxious helicopter mom (ohm): Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii................ Thiiiiiiissss iiiiiiissssss Jooooohhhhhnnn'ssssss mooooooooommmmmmmm....... Hooooooooooow iiiiiiiiiiissssssssss hhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeee dddddddddoooooooooiiiiiiinnnnnngggg tttttttttoooooooooodddddddddaaaaaaayyyyyyyy?????????????
Me: (watching the class trying to wait patiently, failing): He's fine, why?
ohm: IIIIIIIIIIIIIII jjjjjjjjjjuuuuuuuuuuussssssssssstttttttttttt wwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnntttttttteeeeeeeeeedddddddddd ttttttttoooooooooo cccccccchhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeccccccccccckkkkkkkkkk iiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Okay?.... Can I help you with anything else?
ohm: Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooo,....... ttttttttthhhhhhaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttsssssssssss aaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.....................
Me: Okay, thanks for calling, bye.
By this time the kids are talking loud and some are bickering about who moved three inches which way and blah blah blah. I carefully step between them to take my place at the rocking chair and resume the story. I read maybe one more page and the phone rings again. I consider letting it ring, but even as I'm thinking about it ten kids are telling me that the phone is ringing. It couldn't possibly disrupt the class any more than if I just answered it. I creep through the kids again, trying hard again not to step on hands or feet. I answer the phone. It is the same woman.
Me: Hello, Mrs. Anderson's room.
ohm: IIIIIIIIIIIIII ffffffffffooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggoooooooottttttt ttttttttttttooooooooooo tttttteeeeeeeeeelllllllllllll yyyyyyyooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuu...............................................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................... JJJJJooooooohhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnn sssssssssshhhhhhhhhoooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuullllllllllllldddddddddd ttttaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeee ttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeee bbbbbbbbbbbuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssssssss hhhhhhhhhhoooommmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeee tttttoooooooooodddddddddddddaaaaaaaaay.
Me: Okay.
ohm: Tttttttttttthhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttsssssssssss aaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllll!!!!!! Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaavvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeee aaaaaaaaaaaa gggggggggggooooooooooooodddddddddddddd ddddddddddaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Okay, bye.
The read-aloud story is over before it has even begun. The kids are sick of waiting for me, they are sick of their self-imposed crowding on the carpet, and we are all irritated. I looked at John's schedule and he takes the bus home every day. I told him his mom said for him to take the bus home and he looked confused and said, "I know!" What the WHAT?
Another parent came in when the kids were off at lunch. I was trying to cram down a sandwich duck style so I could spend the bulk of my kid-free lunch period correcting yesterday's math homework so I know what to review during the math lesson right after lunch. She poked her head in the door and said,
ohm: Hi..................................is Mrs. Anderson here today?
Me: (trying my hardest not to hold up my arms displaying the obvious lack of Mrs. Anderson) No, I'm her sub.
ohm: Oh....................................................................................................... I'm Bert's mom...................... How is he doing today?
Me: He's fine. Why?
ohm: Oh............................ no reason.
Me: ........................???????
ohm: So................... what have you guys been doing today?
Do I look like I want to chat? I get about 30 kid-free minutes in a school day and I have about 90 minutes of work that needs to be done when the kids aren't in the room, because when they are in the room I'M TEACHING THEM. It's a real job. I realize that they are just curious about their little babies, but come on, how dense are they that they can't see that there are 24 other kids and one teacher? Sometimes they come in when the kids are in the room. They interrupt a lesson and want to chit chat and don't seem to notice the Lord Of The Rings scenarios happening right in front of their eyes because instead of managing the class, I'm having a ridiculous small-talk conversation with a woman I will never see again, about how her kid couldn't find his shoes that morning, and it was so funny because blah blah blah the dog blah blah blah his brother blah blah blah. I don't tell them, "I'm busy" like I would really like to do because I'm a sub, I don't want to be rude and make any waves for the regular teacher so I just put up with it and try to ooze some tension and impatience, while I smile and nod. If I ever come across one of them at their job I will relish wasting their time telling them some stupid story while customers are backing up or phones are ringing, or people are waiting for them. I will love that.
Me: (answering the phone) Hello, Mrs. Anderson's room.
Obnoxious helicopter mom (ohm): Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii................ Thiiiiiiissss iiiiiiissssss Jooooohhhhhnnn'ssssss mooooooooommmmmmmm....... Hooooooooooow iiiiiiiiiiissssssssss hhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeee dddddddddoooooooooiiiiiiinnnnnngggg tttttttttoooooooooodddddddddaaaaaaayyyyyyyy?????????????
Me: (watching the class trying to wait patiently, failing): He's fine, why?
ohm: IIIIIIIIIIIIIII jjjjjjjjjjuuuuuuuuuuussssssssssstttttttttttt wwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnntttttttteeeeeeeeeedddddddddd ttttttttoooooooooo cccccccchhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeccccccccccckkkkkkkkkk iiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Okay?.... Can I help you with anything else?
ohm: Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooo,....... ttttttttthhhhhhaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttsssssssssss aaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.....................
Me: Okay, thanks for calling, bye.
By this time the kids are talking loud and some are bickering about who moved three inches which way and blah blah blah. I carefully step between them to take my place at the rocking chair and resume the story. I read maybe one more page and the phone rings again. I consider letting it ring, but even as I'm thinking about it ten kids are telling me that the phone is ringing. It couldn't possibly disrupt the class any more than if I just answered it. I creep through the kids again, trying hard again not to step on hands or feet. I answer the phone. It is the same woman.
Me: Hello, Mrs. Anderson's room.
ohm: IIIIIIIIIIIIII ffffffffffooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggoooooooottttttt ttttttttttttooooooooooo tttttteeeeeeeeeelllllllllllll yyyyyyyooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuu...............................................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................... JJJJJooooooohhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnn sssssssssshhhhhhhhhoooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuullllllllllllldddddddddd ttttaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeee ttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeee bbbbbbbbbbbuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssssssss hhhhhhhhhhoooommmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeee tttttoooooooooodddddddddddddaaaaaaaaay.
Me: Okay.
ohm: Tttttttttttthhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttsssssssssss aaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllll!!!!!! Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaavvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeee aaaaaaaaaaaa gggggggggggooooooooooooodddddddddddddd ddddddddddaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Okay, bye.
The read-aloud story is over before it has even begun. The kids are sick of waiting for me, they are sick of their self-imposed crowding on the carpet, and we are all irritated. I looked at John's schedule and he takes the bus home every day. I told him his mom said for him to take the bus home and he looked confused and said, "I know!" What the WHAT?
Another parent came in when the kids were off at lunch. I was trying to cram down a sandwich duck style so I could spend the bulk of my kid-free lunch period correcting yesterday's math homework so I know what to review during the math lesson right after lunch. She poked her head in the door and said,
ohm: Hi..................................is Mrs. Anderson here today?
Me: (trying my hardest not to hold up my arms displaying the obvious lack of Mrs. Anderson) No, I'm her sub.
ohm: Oh....................................................................................................... I'm Bert's mom...................... How is he doing today?
Me: He's fine. Why?
ohm: Oh............................ no reason.
Me: ........................???????
ohm: So................... what have you guys been doing today?
Do I look like I want to chat? I get about 30 kid-free minutes in a school day and I have about 90 minutes of work that needs to be done when the kids aren't in the room, because when they are in the room I'M TEACHING THEM. It's a real job. I realize that they are just curious about their little babies, but come on, how dense are they that they can't see that there are 24 other kids and one teacher? Sometimes they come in when the kids are in the room. They interrupt a lesson and want to chit chat and don't seem to notice the Lord Of The Rings scenarios happening right in front of their eyes because instead of managing the class, I'm having a ridiculous small-talk conversation with a woman I will never see again, about how her kid couldn't find his shoes that morning, and it was so funny because blah blah blah the dog blah blah blah his brother blah blah blah. I don't tell them, "I'm busy" like I would really like to do because I'm a sub, I don't want to be rude and make any waves for the regular teacher so I just put up with it and try to ooze some tension and impatience, while I smile and nod. If I ever come across one of them at their job I will relish wasting their time telling them some stupid story while customers are backing up or phones are ringing, or people are waiting for them. I will love that.
