I have a a lot of fun during the day. My preschool class is amazing- their wonder lifts me up all the time.
Still, they are four year olds, just trying to make sense of all the rules the adults in their lives are now imposing on them.
That, to me, is the hardest lesson on 'growing up."
Two little boys are playing in the block area. With a limited number of sizes and shapes, they both want to use the same blocks to build different structures. And of course, each child's building in the most important.
And the fight starts. First, I hear, "No, that's mine." and "You can't have it", so I pay closer attention. I am working on conflict resolution- allowing the children to work things out on their own, but in this case, I know Boy A is more "street-wise" than Boy B, and Boy B can bite when cornered.
No sooner does my radar go up when Boy A picks up the block and slams it into Boy B's chest. I rush over to hug the child, make certain that he is OK before sitting Boy A down for a talk. At that moment, my director walks into the room and observes two crying boys, one silently sobbing, the other screaming at the top of his lungs. Quick guess as to who is who.
Boy A- the hitter, is screaming. How dare I sit him down. It's Boy B's fault- he took the block. When I informed him that he could not join his friends in playing until he calmed down and listened to the explanation as to why we don't hit, he kicked the nearest chair and stood up.
(I have to hide smiles at this behavior, which I did, glancing over my shoulder to my director. She's good, and one look from her had the child back in the chair.)
Later on, I spoke with my director about the incident, as we always do when children hit. This child does not normally have behavior problems- he follows the routine in the classroom and is performing up to task.
He'll just become a great republican when he grows up.
That's my take, anyway.