12-12:30 p.m.

Sometimes, a certain other wonderful Pre-K teacher and I stare at each other with blank faces and ask ourselves how we went from institutes of high-order thinking and the curious, fast-paced, omniscient study of journalism to days of graphing "Which apple tasted better: red or green?" or reminding some friends that the crayon s/he is using is orange and not purple. Our days in Pre-K go by too quickly and are broken into 15-20 minute segments because the 3s' attention spans are the same height as they are. And everything comes down to experience--the most literal form of "make every moment a teaching moment." I'll aim to shine a light on segments of our schedule until you come and visit our classroom in a trailer. Wink.
Today, breakfast and lunch. We are always late, and the students know to ask as they hurry into line) "we late again?!" A rat race to make sure each student has food, a straw, an unspilled milk, a spoon and stays in their seat, I usually sit down half-way through in front of a plate of cafeteria food I am required to have in front of me so I can model how to "eat healthy." (I fail at that task and, if I ever feel bad about it, will shove one bite of mish-mash into my mouth and comment, "mmm, mashed peas - let's all see how much we can eat. Oh, you guys are beating me!") We high-five for opening own milks and are often the loudest because we love breaking into the two competing favorites, ABCs or Beyonce's "Single Ladies." We have recorded that milk cartons are squares on the bottom, we often get 11 grapes on our plates and the triangle points out where you open your milk. Spinach leaves resemble sting rays (I hadn't noticed) and yummy rhymes with tummy and lunch with munch. If you eat your toast in the shape of a letter, there is bound to be applause. Burps and milk bubbles require an "excuse me" and Miss Wooldridge is NOT impressed when you shove the entire straw wrapper into the cavity of your ear, turn to her and over-audibly say, "Teacha, looka."
The conversation I get to sit down to is some of the best possible; it ranges from Disney princesses to, for the 3rd time that day, discussing who is absent to the science of letters or numbers to random facts such as this one today: "My brother sat on a chair, and you had to throw a ball to make him fall in the water. It was the donkey cage, and my brother was the donkey. Ha, that donkey always gets wet." It took me a few seconds to realize he was thinking of the Dunking Booth, just like it took me a few minutes to realize, at a lunch in the beginning of the year, this same boy was singing, "My mama my mama broke-her-face" and it was Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" with an innocent twist.
Lunch ends with my sweet assistant and I sweeping away plates and milk to angry, full mouths and asking them to line up, to which someone usually slips/falls over, and there is a domino effect of my students as two other classes are trying to get by. Balance is tricky.
If it is ever frustrating to battle the cafeteria that serves around 2,000 Pre-K - 5th graders, I remind myself of the time I get with my students for simple conversations and a younger version of catch-up. Not all teachers get this relaxed time of purely student perspectives. I have quite wonderful breakfast and lunch dates every day.