Potential PE Extraordinaire!

A few weeks ago, a letter came home from school asking for some Mom’s to volunteer as a PE assistant for the Kindergarten class. Now you need to know up front, that I have a saying, “Large quantities of small children scare me”. For some reason, however, I thought this sounded like fun. I figured I wouldn’t have to be asking them to be quiet, or keep their little buns in their seats, or keep their hands to themselves… they would be at PE.. OUTSIDE! Piece of cake. Then I thought, “Wow. This is going to be so much fun, playing with a bunch of kids on a field, that I’m probably only going to be able to do this once a quarter. They’ll have to rotate through all the Moms.”

Wrong-O. Two Moms volunteered. So I get every Friday, through the rest of the year, to do one class of 25. Huh.

First day was this past Friday. I show up in my running shorts and shoes, athletic sun glasses, it’s 8AM and I am.ready.to.go. I walk in and one kid says, “Hey! I know you, you’re Son#3’s Mom.” Smart kid. The whole class turns around and there is much chatter about my being there.

As we walk out I said to the PE teacher (this is her first year), “So, do you need to prepare me?” to which she responds, “Well. It is getting better. They sometimes listen now.”

In two single file lines, girls on one side and boys in the other, these little 5 year olds in their PE uniforms that are 3 sizes too big, make their way across the street, heading for the PE field. Then they all break into this little shorty leg jog. I say that because that’s all I could focus on… these little shorty legs… jogging. THEN they break out into this little Kindergarten Jody. I kid you not. I don’t know what they were singing as they were doing their little shorty leg jog, but it ended with this cheer, “We are the kindergartners couldn’t be prouder, if you can’t hear us, we’ll yell a little louder” to which they did. Three times. Good grief. What had I gotten myself into?

We ended up doing shorty leg calisthenics. Jumping jacks, shorty leg running in place, pin wheels, you name it. I’m joining in, but this whole time, I’ve been just hanging in the back, watching, absorbing, trying to figure out if I’m going to fit into this little crew of shorty legs. I needed to be more than HIS Mom. I needed to be part of this in a good way. And I didn't fit in so well in PE when I was a child. Bad memories.

There is a definitive difference between boys and girls. We are on the field and the boys are spinning around, rolling on the ground, basically acting like a bunch of puppies while the girls are in a little crowd and I hear one say, “Mrs. R (PE teacher), I need to fix my hair.” I look over and it's “Lisa who he kissed at the lite bright”. What a cute little girl she is. Brown hair and tiny, she’s a wisp of sweetness… but if she’s needing to fix her hair in PE, she must be HIGH MAINTENANCE wisp of sweetness. AND, she is wearing her hair like I wear mine when I’m out and about town… like an adult! Kindergartners are supposed to wear their hair up in pig tails or a pony tail, not in an Ivana Twist Chip Clip ‘do! Heh. Here she is, re-twisting and clipping her hair, with far more agility than I have. Scary stuff. I pray for her parents.

I have no idea what game we played. It was some childlike version of capture the flag that dealt with some stuffed animals being guarded by sharks. Half way through the class I find myself yelling at this cute little boy Frank, “Run, Frank, Run! Run like the Wind, Frank!” as he escapes with the stuffed bear and makes it to the ‘island’. By the end of the class, I’m a complete lunatic. I’m doing some stupid muppet dance with my arms flailing in the air as I’m hopping around cheering them on, helping the kids who needed just a little bit more encouragement, and I’m laughing hysterically.

Small kids crack me up.

Then as we were leaving… something odd happened. I’m still hanging in the back, keeping the stragglers in line, when a little girl I met last year in Son#3’s preschool, took my hand and said, “Can I walk with you?” Then some other little girl took the other and said, “me too.” And now I have this crowd of little girls that want to hang with me and I’m trying to figure out how to keep them all in a single line, but still let them feel like I’m walking with them.

It was so odd. It was so sweet. And I can’t wait to go back next Friday.