Field Trip

We have had a rather relaxing weekend.  Murphie training yesterday, lots of grant writing, a movie or two on Lifetime, and good food.  Today has involved church and more grant writing.

I really really really hope that I get to come back on here and tell you that I was awarded the grant.  I will know by May 31.

I also changed my grant from 4 iPads to “or 6 iPad Minis”.  The budget is like a dollar difference and you get TWO more devices.  I mean, I’m not a mathematician, or even slightly good with numbers, but I know how to shop, people.  And if you say I can spend up to $2500, I’m going to spend $2500 including hard cover cases and headphones.  Left over money is just a crying shame. 

No need to cry.  I spent it all on my anticipated budget.

Moving on. 

I think I have fully recovered from our Field Trip on Friday.

We took our kids to a place we always go to which shall remain nameless in the event that you want to stalk/hurt/possibly maim me for the simple reason that I do not use correct commas and punctuation and make up words and, instead of clicking out, you just keep reading.  Now, this has actually never been said to me, but I have high hopes of one day having a hater.  You know you’ve made it when you have a hater.  

Oh, I joke!

I kid!

Anyways, this place is wonderful.  It’s all about life long ago and it’s very hands on.  It’s an actual house and the kids go from room to room.  First they get a lecture about the room and then they get to play and touch and experience all the things in the room.  For example, in the parlor, they get to play the pump organ and the piano, and in the kid’s bedroom, they get to play with the blocks and slates and other things.

Well, this place is far away.  Plus, we have traffic.  And we are in the boonies.

So we are always late.  But it has never ever been a problem.

So off we go on our field trip.  On the bus.  What’s a better way to start the morning than with partial hearing loss?

We finally arrived and I told all my kids and my partner’s kids to stay put.  “I’ll get off and see what’s what,” I said.

I walked down the bus steps and saw seven wonderful people dressed in pioneer costumes.  It was fantastic.  Yeehaw, I thought.  Let’s get this show on the road.

“Hi!” I said, all bubbly and happy and slightly manic.  You know, like usual.

And this old woman (and I can honestly say that she was old because she was) said, and I quote, “You’re late! You need to get in six groups right now!”

“Hi!” I repeated.  “You know we were coming from Timbuktu, right?”

“You’re late!”

I got back on the bus and tried to speed up the process of getting sixty kids off, as well as going to the other bus where my other two teammates were to tell them to please hurry up, we were in trouble, and I didn’t know what I did, but I had already been scolded.

As we were waiting to begin the tour, the old lady came back up to me.  “Are you in charge?” she asked.

I looked behind me.

Hmmmmm.  There was only a tree.

“Um . . . sure.  I guess.  Yes, I’m in charge,” I said.

“You have four extra adults.  That comes to $28.  Who’s paying for them?” she snarled.  

“Um . . . well . . . I am!” I said, all bright and cheery and more manic as I handed over my debit card.  The hand off was a little bit reluctant and she may have had to yank it from me, but nevertheless, I gave it to her.

She stomped off.  Literally.  Stomp stomp stomp I can’t believe you have four extra adults you must think I’m stupid and wouldn’t count and why do you need sixteen adults for one hundred and twenty children it makes no sense to me stomp stomp.

I had to send ten of my kids with my two room moms because we were not allowed to have 30 in a group.  So I had another volunteer with me (another first grade teacher in our district whose son is in my class — love her!  She reads my blog so HOLLA!) and we wrangled up the remaining 16 or 17 or however many I kept counting and counting and counting for fear I’d lose someone.  But honestly, my group was fantastic.  Just great.

Our docent was Miss Pat.  That’s what we called her.  Miss Pat.  And she really really really liked her job.  And she really really really liked history.  And she talked A LOT.

I couldn’t believe how long everything took.  The time kept ticking away and she would keep talking about a picture.  A picture!  Or a dish!  Or a shoe!  

I was getting stressed about lunch (I was hungry) and a bathroom break (I had to go) and Miss Pat just kept on and on.  The kids were really great listeners and got to do all sorts of things.  

But here’s the breakdown.

We left school at 9:15.  No one in my group asked to use the restroom or stopped to tell me they were hungry.  And at 12:45, I said to Miss Pat that we had to skip the next room because we needed to eat lunch, use the facilities, and be on the bus (wheels rolling as the bus driver said) at 1:15.

So at 12:45, Miss Pat said, “Okay.  Boys and girls, let me tell you about this chair and then we’ll be on our way.”

Let me tell you about this chair????  THIS CHAIR????

I said, “Miss Pat, I’m really sorry, but we have to go get our lunches.”

She said, “Oh, okay.  On our way out, let’s stop and look at the old fashioned bathroom.”

We finally got to the picnic area at about 1:00.  I ate half a sandwich that I don’t remember eating.  I also now know that my kids do not need to use the restroom at all during the regular school day at least until last recess.  Now I know for sure that they are just trying to get out of class.  Stinkers.

We did not leave until 1:30 and then we slammed into traffic.  Big traffic.  Lots of traffic.  BAD TRAFFIC.

And, meanwhile, my friends on the other bus couldn’t even get their bus started.  They were stuck.  At the field trip. 

Not that I knew.  

How could I know?  Sure, one of my teammates called me, but how do you hear the phone ring on a bus with 60 first graders?  You don’t.  Especially if you’re in an engaging conversation with one of your room parents.  

To make a long story even longer, it boiled down to this.

Our bus made it back with about five minutes to spare until the dismissal bell rang.

And the other bus? 

Well, it was about 20 minutes late.  Maybe 30.

And it had 14 regular bus riders on it so all of the regular buses had to wait until they returned.

This sounds like it could be a math story problem.

We were kind of a spectacle at school.

But that’s okay.

It gave people something to talk about other than THE TEST.

AND, our secretary reimbursed me for the $28.

I promptly turned around and spent it on wine.