Long story short, I made it to Play With Clay! about all of 10 times during the entire first grade. Usually I made it there after ignoring the angel on my shoulder and speeding through Cut and Paste Vocabulary in a half-assed fashion, not really paying attention to my work, furitively glancing over my shoulder at the clock. I'd beat the bell by about a maximum of 20 minutes, whip out the clay, get halfheartedly halfway through sculpting my yellow fish/bown horse/blue flower (whatever) only to hear RR's chipper and authoritative teachery voice announce, Time to clean up!
Some kids never made it to Play With Clay! Some kids had their hands full just trying to get through to Identify the Mystery Shapes or Count to 100 without breaking down into tears of intellectual and emotional exhaustion. I felt for those kids. I had a special compassion for them, and a sense of solidarity with their struggle.
Anyhoo, of course Friday is "Fruits of Your Labor Day" for the lads here at our house. Normally this means if they get through everything on their to-do list (homework, numbers, spelling, reading, reciting, animal cards, history, science facts, walk, social stories, calendar, turn-taking, veggie peeling, rubbing Mommy's feet, etc...) they can kick back in their room with some popcorn and Orangina for a relaxing late afternoon episode of Leapfrog Alphabet Adventures or maybe some Shaun the Sheep while I make dinner.
Now, I'm a little softer than Mrs. Roberta Robertson, I must say, but I do admire her craftiness in child development. And this Friday (a St. Paul Public Schools vacation day, at that!), Toe and Roo both made it to their own Everest, and I'd be lying if I didn't say I had a very strong urge to order a pizza and just break out the clay.