Smile, darn ya, SMILE

Today was school picture day, one of my least favorite days to be a teacher. Trying to convince eight preschool children with special needs to sit down in a chair, to look in the direction of the camera, to keep their hands down in their lap (rather than in their noses, their eyes, or making strange and obscene-appearing gestures), and to smile is as much fun as doing dental work on a conscious mountain lion. It took us over an hour to get an individual picture taken of each child and a group picture taken of all of us. That is more than 60 minutes of begging, bribing, and ordering kids to LOOK AT ME and SMILE. I used bubbles, sparkly toys, stickers, candy, and more. I was ready to promise ponies, trips to the zoo, and more candy than they could eat in a month if they would just sit down and smile. The photographer had apparently not worked with preschoolers before and had no clue what to do with little ones, let alone little ones who had special needs. We debated the possibility of using the wooden chair I brought for my children to sit in for their pictures until she realized two things - 1) my mobile children are not going to stand in one place with their hands nicely on a platform for more than .005 seconds and 2) my children who use wheelchairs DON'T STAND. This came up during our debate in an interesting way. I was by this point already frustrated as my little ones tried to find every cord, light, wire, and breakable object and I was negotiating details like can they sit in a chair for a stupid picture or will the floor show if we do that (as if I care?).
Photographer: Can they each try to stand on the platform?
Me: If you can get the two in the wheelchairs to stand, you are hired.
Photographer: Oh.
Me: So is this a good place to put the chair?
By the time we were done, we were DONE. My children who thrive on routine had met, and then exceeded their limits and became puddles of tears or screaming fury. My children who enjoy adding to chaos had great fun. I wanted to curl up in the corner with one of the blankets and just watch as they thoroughly overthrew my established dictatorship. It was a coup. The inmates overthrew the institution. But we did learn that if you kick a standing flash system, the flash goes off and that if you touch a professional photographer's camera she can run faster than I knew possible. We also learned that I am a mean teacher who refuses to allow four year olds to stand on the upper levels of the risers (falls require too much paperwork and bloody messes take too long to properly clean up) and even meaner for not allowing the school secretary to give them all candy after the chaos of the morning had already claimed my children. Hey, they got chocolate milk and gummy bears with lunch. Besides, if anyone earned chocolate it was ME! Then later the afternoon preschool teacher had to brag that her class took less than 15 minutes to photograph. Revenge, it will be sweet.