Ever plan an activity that goes too well?
A few weeks ago, I had a brilliant idea for one of my third-grade boys, to keep him occupied and engaged in after care: robots. While waiting to get approval to order a few, I bought a tin can robot kit at a toy store at the mall. I had to help him quite a bit, but it was a hit. In the process of putting together that first robot, one of my first-graders expressed interest as well. So, when I got approval, I ordered two solar-powered robots for each of the boys. I think I was just as excited as the boys where when they arrived (only two days later!).
We were all even more excited when we realized that the instructions were illustrations! They could do it all by themselves! What a sense of mastery they got from those solar-powered race cars. I had to help with a few things, but for the most part they put them together on their own. When they were put together, I grabbed my boss to take them out and test them. We took turns going back and forth with them, letting them race them on the path behind the school, and letting the other kids watch. It was one of those days where I was amazed by my own brilliance.
I should have known that getting that proud would come back to bite me in the tush. On Wednesday I pulled out the other robots: solar-powered frogs. The instructions were illustrated, but also supplemented with fairly important written instructions. I gave them to the boys for them to get started and told them that they should let me know if they needed help. Wednesday there was a staff meeting, so on top of my regulars I also started with a bunch of staff kids. I pulled out the other two activities–embroidery and decorate-your-own Frisbees–and spent the rest of the afternoon feeling pulled in about 20 different directions.
As some of the first kiddos were being picked up, one of the robot boys came over to me, crushed. He’d dropped a metal piece on the floor and couldn’t find it. So, I went over and walked through the last few moments with him. I shook out his clothes a bit, then I crawled around on the floor for ten minutes, at which point he was near tears. I sent my boss’s daughter to get my boss, since staff meeting was over. I hoped she would have some other ideas, or better eyes. We looked around for a bit. Then she had an idea–a magnet. She sent her daughter to find one, then proceeded to shake out the boy’s clothes. And it fell out of his clothes. I was so thankful that we found it, but felt a little silly. I told my boss, “I really did that!”
“I know, but sometimes it takes that extra strong ‘mama’ shake,” she responded.
I proceeded to work with two fairly frustrated boys on their frogs. Some of the kiddos had left by this point, and I could give the boys more attention. My third-grader was just getting more and more frustrated. At one point he picked up the hammer and said, “I’m just going to crush it.”
I sent him to take a break and worked on his robot, until I broke off the wires from the motor. He came over, grabbed it and said, “You ruined it! I told you this was a bad idea.” At this point, Miss Val was about in tears. I told the boys we were done with the robots for the day, and I’d look at them at home and fix them. The boys went and decorated some Frisbees so we could all go outside and test the Frisbees. The kids loved that.
We played outside the rest of the day. And just about the moment I decided that I’d salvaged the day, I got hit in the head with a Frisbee. At least it wasn’t one of the kids.
Let this be a bunch of lessons to me:
- You’re not such hot stuff.
- Just because something goes well once, doesn’t mean it will go well again.
- Look out for flying objects.
I still have to fix the robots. Maybe this weekend…Stay tuned for an update!
