6.17.2007

my little roane

I'm having a hard time getting out of bed today. My mind wanders and moves to different times in my life... it lingers on some memories... flys by others... and gets stuck when it stumbles upon the memory of Roane, or as he referred to himself, Roaney Bologna.

As some of you know, I was a preschool teacher in a Head Start program for 2 years, not too long ago. I walked into the job not knowing what to expect, having no experience, but ready learn. My first year was difficult because I didn't work too well with the other teacher in the classroom, but the second year was a different experience.

In September of 2005 me and my co-worker, Chrissy, worked our asses off preparing our classroom for the new students. We had many plans and high expectations for the year to come. The first day of school the children came in, shy, exploring their new environment. Our class was made up of 16 children, ages 2 - 5, from many different cultures.

The second week into school we had a new addition to the class. A little 2 and half hear old, with a vocabulary like i've never heard from that age. He was loud, obnoxious, lovable, hilarious, sarcastic, and the class clown all at the same time. I fell in love almost instantly.

Roane wasn't the type that clings to adults. He was very independent, full of questions, and ready to wrestle at any moment. He would tell extravagant stories about insects and airplanes, his favorite subjects. He had the dirtiest little hands, but they were so cute and squishy.

Eventually he warmed up to me... which later turned into my becoming his obvious favorite. His mother would tell me how he would talk about me at home... how he loved me so much... I helped him get potty trained, I helped his family figure out ways to appropriately discipline him, I worked with his mom on a reward system, I played with him, taught him how to put on his shoes, and loved him throughout the year... we grew very close.

Nap time could be difficult at times because he just wanted me to read him books about jets. But he would always finally fall into a restful sleep... and he looked so beautiful... Field trips were always fun as well... he was always at my side, holding my hand, asking me questions about our surroundings... The bus rides on the field trips were crazy... as you can see... sometimes he wasn't too happy...

By February his imagination was really developing and he would lead me into very detailed and complicated make-believe games... usually involving an airplane. He called me his "wing man".

I remember him so well. His voice, his hugs, his cries of frustration, his contagious laughter, the look of mischief he always had... I miss him a lot.

This little boy has no idea the affect he had on me, his teacher. I had no idea I would love a child so much, without having any kind of biological relation to him. But I did, I fell completely in love with this energetic little boy... and I'll never forget him... Today I can't get him out of my head.

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