Over the past week we have gotten three new kids, and we're booting up three of our old kids to preschool. The kids leaving are JoAnn, Katherine, and Molly. I will mise Katherine sorely, but the other two grind my gears, generally speaking, and I'm happy they'll be someone else's problem now.
New kids:
Corey - They can't just leave us with a bunch of kids who speak properly. Corey has a speech impediment worse than Bailey's. I can't understand him most of the time. He's only been here a week, and so far he has not gone potty once in the "big boy potty," flipping shit every time I try to coax him toward it and preferring to soak his pull-ups instead.
Dan - I have had to change Dan's poopy diaper twice, and both times I have wondered why his parents feed him so much fucking CORN. He shits corn. Today his poo leaked down one leg and got on the crotch of his pants. So I got to change his corn diaper and put new shorts on him. He hasn't peed on the potty yet either, at least for me. Other than crapping the produce aisle, he is VERY mannerly (today he said "no thank you" and totally floored me) though sometimes he doesn't listen. We'll work on it.
Laurel - QUIET. Very very quiet. She will play and gets along fine (after a few minutes of sitting to get used to daycare) but she hardly talks! I imagine she'll be talking soon. She wears pull-ups but I haven't had to change one yet. She doesn't have accidents, and she's SO good at going potty. She'll be my new Katherine I can take to the bathroom with Will since she's so well behaved.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Questions
Kids like to ask questions. My two most inquisitive kids are Danielle and JoAnn.
I have moles on my neck. Not gross ones, just..moles. Danielle is obsessed with my moles. And my freckles. I have lots of those as well as the few scattered moles on my neck.
If Danielle is in my lap or looking at me close-up, she will inevitably point to a mole and ask "Mmmmmmmmmmwazzis?" I say, "A mole." She responds, "A moleh." Well, no, it's more drawn out. Like "Moooooooooooleh." She continues to point to all of the moles, knowing I will say "mole" and giving her the opportunity to say "moooooleh."
Then she moves to the freckles. She points to a spot on my arm. "Mmmmwazzis?" I tell her, "A freckle." Her response: "A preckle." Hilarity and repetition ensue until I get frustrated or she gets bored and she moves on to something else.
Jo's questions are just as worthy of Captain Obvious's pantaloons and pointed hat, but they are for some reason more annoying to me.
"Miss Caitlin, what's on your shirt?"
"A butterfly."
"Is it a butterfly?"
"Yes, Jo. It's a butterfly."
If wearing an apron with children emblazoned on the front, she asks, "What's their names?"
LIKE I KNOW. THEY ARE NONEXISTANT CARTOON CHILDREN. WHY MUST YOU ASK STUPID QUESTIONS???
"I don't know, Jo. They're just kids on the apron."
Doing a puzzle, Jo held up a puzzle piece that clearly depicted Esmerelda's (from the Hunchback of Notre Dame) hands.
"Miss Caitlin, are these her hands?"
"Jo, do they look like her hands?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you asking me if those are her hands?"
"Miss Caitlin, these are her hands."
No shit, sherlock.
I have moles on my neck. Not gross ones, just..moles. Danielle is obsessed with my moles. And my freckles. I have lots of those as well as the few scattered moles on my neck.
If Danielle is in my lap or looking at me close-up, she will inevitably point to a mole and ask "Mmmmmmmmmmwazzis?" I say, "A mole." She responds, "A moleh." Well, no, it's more drawn out. Like "Moooooooooooleh." She continues to point to all of the moles, knowing I will say "mole" and giving her the opportunity to say "moooooleh."
Then she moves to the freckles. She points to a spot on my arm. "Mmmmwazzis?" I tell her, "A freckle." Her response: "A preckle." Hilarity and repetition ensue until I get frustrated or she gets bored and she moves on to something else.
Jo's questions are just as worthy of Captain Obvious's pantaloons and pointed hat, but they are for some reason more annoying to me.
"Miss Caitlin, what's on your shirt?"
"A butterfly."
"Is it a butterfly?"
"Yes, Jo. It's a butterfly."
If wearing an apron with children emblazoned on the front, she asks, "What's their names?"
LIKE I KNOW. THEY ARE NONEXISTANT CARTOON CHILDREN. WHY MUST YOU ASK STUPID QUESTIONS???
"I don't know, Jo. They're just kids on the apron."
Doing a puzzle, Jo held up a puzzle piece that clearly depicted Esmerelda's (from the Hunchback of Notre Dame) hands.
"Miss Caitlin, are these her hands?"
"Jo, do they look like her hands?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you asking me if those are her hands?"
"Miss Caitlin, these are her hands."
No shit, sherlock.
Mr. Will at Naptime
It all started with Michael Jackson. Will was screaming "MICHAEL JACKSON!" and "NO. MICHAEL. JACKSON!" for what I still figure is NO damned reason at all. He picked up a book, "The Good Night Bible." He pointed to it and said "This is the Goofiest Michael Jackson Show." He then asked me to read him "The Goofiest Michael Jackson Show," and I told him I couldn't read "The Goofiest Michael Jackson Show," but I could read him "The Good Night Bible." That was not sufficient for Mr. Will.
He threw books. I grabbed him and put him on his cot. He kicked books. He tried to kick me. He kicked whatever was near.
He then decided to watch tv. He flipped his cot up against the bookshelf, snuggled his back into it, and "turned on" the "tv" with an invisible remote. He announced, "I'm watchin' tv."
Sigh.
I put the cot back down (fatal mistake) and tried to make him lay on it, or sit on it quietly, or anything but messing around. Fail.
Eventually, all nap times come down to Will screaming and wailing and making baby noises (jealousy issues of little brother) until he either (a) falls asleep or (b) is removed from the classroom and taken to be someone else's problem for my sanity's brief respite.
He threw books. I grabbed him and put him on his cot. He kicked books. He tried to kick me. He kicked whatever was near.
He then decided to watch tv. He flipped his cot up against the bookshelf, snuggled his back into it, and "turned on" the "tv" with an invisible remote. He announced, "I'm watchin' tv."
Sigh.
I put the cot back down (fatal mistake) and tried to make him lay on it, or sit on it quietly, or anything but messing around. Fail.
Eventually, all nap times come down to Will screaming and wailing and making baby noises (jealousy issues of little brother) until he either (a) falls asleep or (b) is removed from the classroom and taken to be someone else's problem for my sanity's brief respite.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Golden Showers
We played in the sprinkler today. I got smart and left my phone inside AND I brought water shoes so I could run around with the kids. I even picked them up and held them over the sprinkler just to hear their giggle-shrieks.
When we were done playing in the water, we sent the kids to get their towels and dry off. Katherine had been laying on her towel in the sun and I looked over to see Danielle standing over her. I didn't know what the hell she was doing, and I walked over. Danielle went and got her towel but Katherine just looked at me and said, "Danielle peed on me."
WTF.
When we brought in their swim stuff from drying outside, neither of their suits smelled like pee, so we are HOPING with all of our souls that she just dripped water from her swimsuit.
Oh kids these days...
When we were done playing in the water, we sent the kids to get their towels and dry off. Katherine had been laying on her towel in the sun and I looked over to see Danielle standing over her. I didn't know what the hell she was doing, and I walked over. Danielle went and got her towel but Katherine just looked at me and said, "Danielle peed on me."
WTF.
When we brought in their swim stuff from drying outside, neither of their suits smelled like pee, so we are HOPING with all of our souls that she just dripped water from her swimsuit.
Oh kids these days...
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Bathroom aim
I realize that more and more of these posts are about what happens in the bathroom, but it's too funny not to comment upon.
I have had issues with boys aiming their boy-bits and dribbling down the front of their pants because for some reason evolution has not imprinted upon their instinctive minds to HOLD THE DAMN THING so pee doesn't go everywhere. I have not, until today, had that same issue with a girl. Sitting down.
Danielle was throwing a bit of a hissy fit and she didn't want to go potty, so I walked her into the bathroom and helped her get her pants down and she went to hop up on the toilet. I warned her to "get her whole bottom" on the toilet because she was fidgeting but then she said "uh oh" and I looked and she had peed ON her pants.
Oh my goodness.
As if that wasn't fun enough, Tristan had fun with urine-aim as well. He had been dry since I got there, which was AMAZING, since he usually gets his pull-up/diaper changed pretty regularly. He frequently throws lovely fits for me, not wanting to go potty, so I just wash his hands and leave. Today, however, he went pee in the ridiculous floor-length urinal. He even aimed with his hands. He turned to me, smiling HUGELY, saying "Look, I go pee in the potty!" ...and peed all over the floor while turning.
I stomped on a paper towel to soak up his mess and got Danielle changed out of her wet pants into dry ones. No other urine issues to speak of today. Tomorrow shall bring new adventures.
I have had issues with boys aiming their boy-bits and dribbling down the front of their pants because for some reason evolution has not imprinted upon their instinctive minds to HOLD THE DAMN THING so pee doesn't go everywhere. I have not, until today, had that same issue with a girl. Sitting down.
Danielle was throwing a bit of a hissy fit and she didn't want to go potty, so I walked her into the bathroom and helped her get her pants down and she went to hop up on the toilet. I warned her to "get her whole bottom" on the toilet because she was fidgeting but then she said "uh oh" and I looked and she had peed ON her pants.
Oh my goodness.
As if that wasn't fun enough, Tristan had fun with urine-aim as well. He had been dry since I got there, which was AMAZING, since he usually gets his pull-up/diaper changed pretty regularly. He frequently throws lovely fits for me, not wanting to go potty, so I just wash his hands and leave. Today, however, he went pee in the ridiculous floor-length urinal. He even aimed with his hands. He turned to me, smiling HUGELY, saying "Look, I go pee in the potty!" ...and peed all over the floor while turning.
I stomped on a paper towel to soak up his mess and got Danielle changed out of her wet pants into dry ones. No other urine issues to speak of today. Tomorrow shall bring new adventures.
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