Snow Bear.

Today we read the book Snow Bear. It's a fun touch and feel fuzzy book about a little bear who went out exploring after winter hibernation. Not listening to his mom by going too far he ended up losing his way. Naturally, the end of book discussion led to stories about getting lost.

Making the connection that getting lost is not really a big kid thing to do, one girl said, "When I was younger, and didn't know better, I got lost in Target. But my mom found me and I was only three then." It's interesting to think that for a five year old, two years ago counts as "younger." You and I? Not so much.

One inquisitive boy who always proclaims how well he uses his brain told us,"One time at the toy store my brothers left me even though I said stay right here."

Looking for more details I prodded, "Were you scared?"

"No, I was brave," he said proudly. "I followed their water footprints and found them!"

Quite impressed with this clever way of searching for his mom I exclaimed, "Wow, you certainly were being a detective!"

The last story was told by a girl who always seems to stretch to find a story applicable to share. "One time I was looking for my little brother and then I found him in my mom's room!" Relevant or not, she shared how she found meaning of the story by drawing from her own experiences; I was glad to hear whatever she had to offer.

For this very reason, end of book discussions quite easily turns into my favorite part of each day. It becomes very apparent that simply reading the book loses much more of what we have to discover. Not only do we get to discover more about the book itself, but we also get the opportunity to learn more about each other. We see the book come alive with an even deeper meaning based on the context and application to each child. Their stories make reading time special and so much more meaningful.

11.11.11

Veterans Day, like all other holidays means no school. While most of the time I enjoy these holidays for a chance to recharge both physically and mentally, today I felt differently.

As part of our routine each morning, my Kindergartners write a new journal entry upon arrival. During this time, I remind them to write the date at the top of their page while they watch me write the date. On November 1st, the whole class was in complete awe as I wrote "11/1/11" on the board. "It's a pattern!" a few shouted. "It's all one's," shouted another. Seeing their observations, relation to something we've been learning in class, combined with the overall excitement in writing something as simple as a date, brought a joyous smile to my face.

Today's date 11/11/11 brought back memories of that day, and just thinking about what their reactions would have been--probably just as thrilling as it was on the first--truly made me wish I was with them today. I will be eager to share with them this once in a lifetime date on Monday.

Commotion In The Ocean.

Today we read the story Commotion in the Ocean. The book was filled with wonderful creatures near or in the ocean. The children were filled with excitement to learn about all the animals in rhyming thrill. The conversation that occurred next, however, was filled with more commotion than any of the oceans combined. The conversation came towards the end when we reached a page about penguins and polar bears.


With attentive eyes, they carefully examined the bright and colorful illustrations. What stood out to them was not falling penguins or cuddling bears, but rather a tiny black and lonely starfish. I could barely tell what it was and asked, "Are you sure it's a starfish?" They assured me it was because of his pointy stature. In case you don't see it, as I did not, here is a closer look.

Now you see it? Off in the distance of the first picture? I was just as surprised as they were and asked, "Well, what's he doing way out there?!"

The answers were all very logical and Kindergartner-like.

"Walking."
"Playing."
"Maybe he needs alone time."
"Sometimes I need alone time."

"Well I hope he's not too lonely," I replied.

A moment of silence occurred before this enthusiastic soul shouted, "He's gonna jump!"

"Oh no! Why would he jump?!" I asked in shock that a Kindergartner would say something so terrifying.

"To see his family in the ocean," he assured me.
"Yeah, alone time is over," another chimed in.

Clearly, it was my mistake for assuming worse. The innocence and logic of a five year old will never cease to fascinate me.

The Money Machine.

Today we learned about money. To approach the topic of money, we did an overview of the names, values, and purpose of money. Doing the typical Kindergarten thing we sang a lot of cool songs about money. We even clarified a lot of key questions like "Is there a jail on the back of a penny. " I wanted to remind them that money doesn't just grow on trees, so we talked about where it comes from. I mentioned the special machines that make the money. That's where the first question arose.

"What's a machine?"

To be simple I said, "A machine is something that is made to do a specific job for you, like a computer or washing machine." I didn't get too specific with the electrical portion of it.

I went on to describe how it's not something we can own and only specific people (the government) can use this machine. That's where the final question arose.

"What's the government?"

And that's where I stopped. You can only guess why. Hopefully I haven't created a terrible image of the government, but somehow I think they'll end up discovering that on their own.

The Discovery of Tape.

Today, one of my dear sprouts learned about the wonderful ways of tape. I'm sure he has always been knowledgeable with how sticky and interesting this stuff can be, but today he learned something new: The more you stick it, the less it sticks.

I am simply amazed with how these little discoveries are made. Through play and exploration we can discover all about our world and the things in it. These discoveries are especially popular in Kindergarten, and can be made with abstract concepts and objects. Even tape.

The discovery of tape started Monday morning when Kevin decided his name plate needed to be adjusted approximately three inches over on his desk. On Tuesday, another adjustment needed to be made, only this time, the other direction. Wednesday rolled around, and a new discovery was made: Every time I touch my desk plate, it moves. I'm sure his thoughts went something like, That's crooked now. I can fix that! As an adult, we are all familiar with the way tape works. So you can only guess what his many adjustments was doing to this fascinating product. By Thursday, curiosity combined with the lack of quality adjustments led to this "name plate" becoming a "name tag." You guessed it, right on the chest. With a sweet reminder from Miss Molly and additional effort to make it stick, the name plate went back on the desk.

Finally, today, when nearly all hope was gone that this name plate would ever stick on the desk, Kevin pulled out his last big idea. Maybe... it will stick better on face! And just like that I watched the little name plate (with barely any "stick") fall from his face... repeatedly.

I intervened. "Kevin, please bring me your name plate."

As he walked over and placed it into my hands, his eyes showed nothing but commitment to the fact that he did nothing out of the ordinary. He boldy pronounced, "It wouldn't stick!"

With this discover made, nothing more needed to be said.