The Classroom and The Baby's Room

02 May 2012

Since you've all been dying for more classroom/babyroom posts, I've finally decided to cave.

Yesterday my students turned in their final portfolios for the semester, so all that lies between me and almost four months of summer is a mountain of (my favorite!) grading. 

Ever since Jacob started working again I've been bringing Jake to my office hours. He chews on wires and binder clips, opens every drawer he can reach, takes off down the hallway whenever the door opens, and spreads the contents of his diaper bag everywhere. He only peed on the floor once (sorry Wendy...) When students visit I try to maintain some level of authority as he sucks on my face or pulls down my shirt.

Deceptive innocence

The classroom became the baby's room once when my babysitter bailed and I had to bring him into class strapped on my back. Jake fussed whenever he couldn't see the students, so I taught the entire class facing the side of the room.

Yesterday was full of goodbyes, lots of handshakes, and two hesitant hugs. 

One girl - my sweet little airhead - came in, handed me her work, and said: "Just the portfolio, right?" And I said yes and smiled, but I was thinking: "Yes, just ALL the written work you've done in the course." This is the same girl who once in a sentence accidentally wrote "internally" instead of  "eternally," and when I asked her which she meant, she replied: "Well..which one works better?"

That was one of the more memorable moments of my semester (riveting! I know!) until the following incident. 

One of my baseball players came in extra flustered at the cut off time for portfolio collection. He had been a decent and respectful student all semester, and he had thus almost redeemed college baseball players in my mind despite multiple negative experiences teaching them over the years. He handed in his portfolio and took a deep breath. Slightly concerned, I asked how finals week was going for him, and he said he was stressed out because his girlfriend was in surgery and he was hurrying so he could be there when she got out.  

I expressed an appropriate level of concern.

Then the 19 year old proceeded to plummet from all my good graces as he shrugged his shoulders and, with a bit of a smirk, said: "She's just getting her boobs done."

The awkwardness cannot be overstated really. I managed to raise my eyebrows only a little, keep my face-twitching to a minimum, and say something like "Ah-oh-uh." 

Then there was silence as we watched Jake rip paper. 

He told me how much he loved kids. 

I nodded.

Then I crossed my arms over my chest because I had started letting down...which always happens to my still-lactating-self whenever I get embarrassed.


  1. I will make a note to stop licking carpet in our office then...

  2. Oh no - how awkward and hilarious!! Thanks for a great laugh this morning!

  3. Hilarious!! I can totally picture this scene in my head. I love it!!!

  4. ahahhahah! this is hilarious.

  5. Perhaps you let down because your body was thankful to have boobs intact! Awesome story--so LA.

  6. Here from Camp Patton.

    Oh. My God. Just awesome.

  7. Well, not everyday you live that little treasure. Things that make you go Hmmmm...

    Angie @

  8. OH. M. G. And that's all I can say about that!!!

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