Hey, You - The Kid in the Yellow Shirt...

Oh, my mind is tired of talking.  Not my mouth or throat so much (although I have been very thirsty lately), but my mind.  I realized today that I am constantly talking to these little people.  Not only am I instructing, encouraging, and occasionally admonishing them, I am also forced to do all of these while also including their names in there.  "Good job, Suzy."  "Nice walking in line, Billy."  "Walking behind a friend and not whacking the bushes, Johnny."  "Hands to yourself, Cindy Sue."  "Bobby, look at Sammy's face.  I don't think he liked it when you threw that large plastic elephant at him and hit him in the head.  In fact, I think that's probably why he smashed up your huge block structure."

It's constant talking.  And it's not helped by the fact that they can't seem to be identified by any other means.  For example, if I say, "Okay, everyone sitting on the orange row, get your lunch boxes," that's not enough.  It's not that they don't know they're sitting on the orange row (well, perhaps 90% of them know what color they're sitting on), it's that they need additional confirmation from me that yes, this does mean them.  I'll say, "Everyone on the orange row get up," and 5 of 6 of them will sit there looking at me expectantly until I confirm this individually.  "Yes, that's you, Suzy.  You're on orange Billy.  You can go, Sammy."

 It's the same if I try something daring, such as, "Okay, if you're a girl, please stand up."  They largely just sit there and holler, "I'M A GIRL!  I'M A GIRL!", until you say, "Yes, you are a girl.  So please stand up."  (Of course there is the one who sat there today steadfastly, saying, "Well, I'm a tomboy."  to which I responded that she might well be a tomboy, but she was still a girl tomboy.

The result of such talking and trying to remember 24 names 500 times a day is complete brain-deadness, especially where all names are concerned.   It's like Excessive-Naming-Induced dysphasia.  I get to the point that I no longer know what anyone is called.  Nor do I really care.

Thank goodness it's the weekend - at least I think that's what they call it.