On survival

This weekend we went to see Craig and Ann in their home in the middle of nowhere and it was brilliant – I hadn’t seen them for too long and I’ve missed their faces. We got way too drunk eating a delicious barbecue , playing cards and sharing horror stories (we’re all teachers). The next morning Ann made banana and chocolate chip muffins (that I had too many of) and Craig shared some of his wisdom with me (he used to work at a school that was possibly even worse than mine). And what he said was 10.000 times more useful than all the advice I get at school. Simply because instead of focusing on ‘good practice’ he focused on my sanity and getting my classes to a state where I can actually attempt proper teaching. Here are my two favourite ones:
1. Time out.
Put a chair outside the room. Spot the most disruptive kid and offer him ‘time out’ as in ‘I think you need to chill for 5 minutes, so why don’t you sit outside for a bit.’ If you’re lucky, he will simply bugger off. If not, at least you will have 5 minutes to get the rest of them going. Cover your arse – send a note to behaviour management that the bugger is at large.
2. Note.
Again, spot the most disruptive kid and ask him to take a note to your head of department or anyone else for that matter. The note should say: ‘I’ve sent XY to you because I need him out for 5 minutes so that I can start the others on their work. Thank you!’ It needs to be sealed of course. Again – if you’re lucky, the kid will just bugger off. If not, etc.
I shall put those in practice and we’ll see how it goes!

Some more on hair and minor panic crisis

“Gah!” I gasped, standing in Craig and Ann’s bathroom yesterday morning (well, afternoon), washing my hands. I gasped, because I had just glanced at myself in the mirror and spotted a streak of grey hair on the very top of my head. I gasped, and then I examined my head with great care, in case I was wrong, but I wasn’t, it was definitely there.
Oh God.
I composed myself as best I could, but then as soon as the boys were out of the room, I pointed to my head: “Look Ann, grey hair, right here!” Ann examined my head with great care and confirmed the presence of the horror. “All Paul’s fault” she ruled and we both giggled, but quite seriously, if I get a streak of grey hair just because my boyfriend omits to include me in a rice and naan order, then I’m in trouble. Cause then imagine when something actually wrong happens! I mean, soon I’m going to be back at school! I’m going to turn completely grey in no time! And I have nothing against grey hair as such, I actually think it looks dignified and am not planning on dying mine, but it’s way too early, I’m not even 31! (at least not for one more day, but that’s beside the point.)

Later on, back home, when Paul was in the shower, I made Carina pull the horror out of my head. There were all two of them.
But somehow they had managed to look like a whole streak.
I think I’m having a mild case of birthday panic…

(Explanatory note: Craig and Ann are friends of Paul’s, with whom we went to the Lake District and to Alton Towers and several other places.)