🐜 From Ant Farms to Isopod Fame: How I Accidentally Became a Bug Mom at School
Attendance: up. Morale: up. Bug population: way, way up.
Started with 20. Now we’re here. #BugMomChronicles
Have you ever heard of an isopod?
Yeah… me neither. That is, until about five months ago… when my life took a wild turn and I found myself deep in the world of pill bugs, soil moisture levels, and a student who didn’t want anything to do with school.
Let’s rewind.
I work in a school. I care about kids. And one of my students? He really hated school.
We’re talking low motivation, low attendance, low enthusiasm about pretty much everything school-related.
But he liked ants. A lot.
🐜 Operation: Ant Farm
I figured, why not meet him where he’s at?
I casually told him I was “interested in getting an ant farm” and, lucky for me, he went full National Geographic on the topic. He helped plan everything. I ordered a habitat, the tools, and a tube of live harvester ants (because yes, you can absolutely order ants online and have them shipped to your school).
Did you know you’re supposed to cool ants in the fridge for a few minutes before transferring them into their new home? I didn’t. Neither did our school secretaries, who were less than thrilled to find sleeping ants in the staff refrigerator.
But it worked! For a while. He earned ant check-ins as rewards. He asked questions. He smiled. For the first time in a long time, he was excited to be at school.
Until… we accidentally created an ant lagoon by overwatering the habitat. RIP, little builders.
It was a circle-of-life moment for all involved.
🐞 Enter the Isopods
(a.k.a. the Antidote to Dead Ants)
Ant shipping was off the table… it was the middle of our PNW winter and too cold for live ant deliveries.
I needed something low-maintenance and local.
So I Googled: “Easy-to-care-for classroom bugs.”
That’s when I met the isopod.
A.k.a. roly polies.
A.k.a. nature’s chillest decomposers.
The student and I picked a type (powder blue, very fancy), and I built their enclosure like a true bug architect. I even mentioned it to my principal, who returned the next day having fallen down the isopod rabbit hole that evening.
Apparently, there’s an entire isopod fandom out there. Breeding, collecting, morphing (who knew?)!
At this point, we were all in.
🛑 The Local Isopod Disappearance
Except… when I went back to the store, every last isopod was gone.
Just a week and a half earlier, they’d had hundreds, powder blue, powder orange, dairy cow, Oreo crumble, regular… you name it. The next time I walked in?
Every. Single. One. Gone. Like, full bug blackout.
I still half-suspect my principal beat me to the store and started his own secret colony at home.
So I joined a waitlist. Yes, an actual waitlist… for pill bugs.
🪲 The Isopod Renaissance
A month later, we finally got them. And in a perfectly poetic twist, I met another school staff member who breeds isopods in her spare time. She gave me tips, encouraged me to try breeding, and may or may not have nerded out with me about leaf litter and enclosure humidity.
Yes, I’m now an accidental isopod breeder.
Put that on a business card. Maybe even my resume?
We started with 20, and now we have… well, more than 20. The container has its moods (don’t we all?), but the student and I figure it out together.
And here’s the best part:
It’s not just his thing anymore.
Other kids are invested.
They check on the bugs.
They ask questions.
They care.
So no, I didn’t expect my job to include detritivore diets, isopod birth tracking, or bug-habitat maintenance on my lunch break.
But this little isopod adventure?
It’s one of the most joyful, weirdly wonderful things in our school this year.
🌿 Gentle Takeaway
Sometimes connection doesn’t start with words.
Sometimes it starts with ants in the fridge or pill bugs on a mission.
It starts with curiosity, tiny wins, and something to care for… together.
🌧️ In the rain, we root. In the wild, we grow.
