Honey Doll

My classroom has been approved for a second assistant since the beginning of September, when I realized that rather than teaching I was performing some sort of ritual of organizing chaos into somewhat more structured and prettier chaos. It was also at that time that I realized were we to ever have a real emergency and need to evacuate the building instead of a drill, with plenty of warning, we would most likely end up throwing children out of the window to someone outside who may or may not actually catch them. It is now January and that second assistant is as real as the invisible people my niece kept talking to and having me put in my pocket during Christmas. The concept is fun, but they don't do a whole lot of good when they have no form. Yesterday someone was finally brought in for an interview, and I must say that I may end up having preferred it without her. Her first comment upon entering the room and seeing myself and a very temporary helper wrangling a child into submission was "Ohhh, so they are allowed to wear blue jeans here" with the most condescending attitude as if we were wearing tattered rags and begging for food. She surveyed the scene in her heels and pressed skirt suit for a few moments, most of which I ignored because I was up to my armpits in child. I did hear her comment in surprise on the fact that we were all on the floor with the children (did she expect them to levitate to our height and play suspended in air?) and that with her arthritic knees she was not sure if she could get up and down off the floor. Also, she can not longer lift with her knees and must use just her arms. Okay, hold up here. You are bringing in a woman old enough to be my grandmother who has just admitted that she can not easily sit on the floor with the children and will have trouble lifting them? I think we have a problem here!!! Preschool special education, especially with my little ones, is full contact teaching. You lift, you run, you hold, you get up and down off of the floor so many times you forget that chairs were invented, you carry squirming and wiggly children, and you are in constant motion. You get messy with snot, with drool, with dirt, with fingerpaint and regular paint and with their lunches, and with substances you would rather not consider, and with substances you never quite identify. I really do not need another assistant that is going to be more work than help. Then, THEN, she committed the fatal sin in my world. As she was leaving I asked very politely if she had any questions about the children or my classroom and she responded "No Honey Doll, I have had enough children that I know just about everything." It dripped with condescension and made me want to send one of my little ones over to initiate her immediately. I may be 40 years younger than you but in this classroom, I am the teacher. And you may have birthed a nation, but I guarantee you will not know everything about my little ones. So my principal is actually going to hire this wingnut dingbat and "give her a try" which means I am stuck with her. I may have to surrender the idea of actually teaching this year and become a glorified babysitting service. I already have glorious plans for the first few days of this new woman's work in our classroom - days of fingerpainting and shaving cream play and toy cars on the floor and messy foods and letting her work with my child who bites and the children who have no concept of language (thus making yelling "no" a pointless effort). I am so evil, but then again....she does know everything so she should be prepared for this. Honey Doll, welcome to my world!