Montessori Teachers: How DO they do it?

I’m sitting at home right now, drinking my second coffee of the day. My two boys have finally given in and are taking naps (at the same time!), and all is right with the world. It is a snow day, and this morning, when I saw the cancellation notice with the name of my kids’ school go by at the bottom of the TV screen, I silently sighed. I love my children, but the thought of a whole day snowed in … two against one …all that ‘boy energy’ … another sigh.

This is snow day number two. My husband stayed home with them yesterday, and I received several texts from him reassuring me that they were alive (though he was only barely). Then, hours later, I received another text telling me that he was going to get Hudson’s head examined after a mishap with a ‘monorail’ that they had constructed in the house. Sometimes it’s just better not to ask. My husband has a degree in engineering, so a monorail running through the house is entirely possible. Anyway, an hour later, my 15-month old’s forehead was super-glued back together and as good as new. Nothing surprises me with these boys, NOTHING.

I don’t know how their Montessori teachers do it and remain positive and upbeat every day. I drop my children off in the morning, wish them a good day, transition through my own busy work day, and am worn out by the time I return to pick them up. They, on the other hand, are not worn out. I return to school and find my children happy, playing outside, and not ready to go home! In fact, I often get a tantrum about their intense desire to stay at school and play with their friends. And, I get it! I’m not nearly as cool as their peer group.

But, I wonder how these teachers do it. I once asked my older son’s teacher if she is exhausted at the end of the day, and she said, “No, they are great.” Either she is a great liar or that woman drinks more coffee than I do! But, I’ve been given the opportunity to observe her, and she is genuinely loving, caring, kind, compassionate, and warm. She speaks to the kids firmly but as though they are people, not kids. When one of them behaves badly, she explains what was wrong with their behavior and shares that they need to apologize. She has a heart of gold and wears it up and down her sleeves. And, the kids love her.

One day, I came to pick up my kids, and she shared with me that my lovely child hit another child (as if I ever thought he was an angel). I asked her how she handled the situation so that I can model my behavior based on hers. She shared the following: “I sat down, eye-level, and said, ‘That is not nice. These hands are made for hugs and helping other people, not hitting other people. These hands can do amazing things without hurting others.’” She had him sit in a chair until he had calmed down, walked him to the little boy, and the two hugged while my son said he was sorry.

Seriously?!?!?! How does she do it? At home, my older son will hit my younger one (or vice versa), and he laughs and snickers at me when I attempt to discipline him. But, that’s just it! His teacher attends to him and sees it as an act of communication rather than a reprimand. I have come to realize that we are constantly learning from our teachers, even when they are no longer OUR teachers. These teachers are setting the example of how to interact, inter-personally and intra-personally … with the children and with the parents.

The main lesson that I continue to learn about parenthood is that it is not easy. It is particularly not easy if you put on your parent goggles and reject the idea of asking for and receiving help. No matter how much you think you know, there will always be ideas and solutions that are new to you and may just be exactly what you and your family need to make life a little bit less stressful.

I may be exhausted and sleep deprived, but I am still able to appreciate life’s little lessons that creep up on me, daily. My kids are no angels. But, they are kids. And, I am reminded about the care that their teachers (who actually spend more time with them than we do) give my children when I observe their private moments: laughing, continuously hugging, consoling, and loving them. This is co-parenting at its best.

TOMMOROW’S CHILD © ♦ JANUARY 2014 ♦ WWW.MONTESSORI.ORG