Toddler Tuesday

We walked 10 blocks to the light rail station, then rode for 5o minutes one way to the Mall of America. 9 adults, 20 toddlers, and many short attention spans, mine included. We talked about the color of the flowers and the size of the cars passing by. We sang songs and did fingerplays and the other people on the train stared in annoyance. You would be a lot more annoyed if I WASN'T doing this with them, I wanted to scream, because they would be running around like hooligans. Afterall, they're 2, and that's what they do best. Instead I simply found comfort in knowing that if it was their kid who was getting my constant attention and affection and guidance, they wouldn't be annoyed. If their kid came to us barely talking or walking and left potty trained, knowing their shapes, colors, and speaking in complete sentences, they would be thanking me.
I'm not a babysitter, punk. I'm a teacher, and teachers use every moment they have with their students. I would not have them sit and stare quitely out the window. I would stimulate their minds and fill the space with laughter, not the silence of dying brain neurons. If their giggles bother you then you're a grinch.
We walked through the MoA and into the Dinosaur museum. Some roared, some stared, others cried and clung to my hand for dear life. I chased a stray toddler when he stole Eric's Cheez Its. "Those aren't yours," I said as I took them before he had a chance to give them to me. It wasn't very teacher like, but a stranger had intruded on something I spend my days nurturing and it made me defensive...that must be what it's like to be a parent.
On the walk back they were much more quiet. Hungry and tired, they begged to be carried and drug their feet when our arms were full. Through green lights and cross walks we journeyed back to our classroom, where they all slept for as long as we would let them. Many had fallen asleep again by the end of the day, and as Milan crawled into my lap for his second nap of the day, I was reminded of just how much I'm going to miss days filled with hugs and snot and laughter and kids who stick their own heads in the toilet.