I come up with some cool terms at daycare, so I'll write a few down:
Becoming a noodle: an uncanny ability for children to make all their bones like cooked pasta, consequently falling in a shapeless blob to the floor in an act of utter defiance
Living rigor: when children become as rigid as humanly possible (usually when you pick them up to stick them in the time-out chair)
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Toilet Phobia
Corey does not like the toilet. My miracle-working ways have made him comfortable with the urinal, and he regularly pees there, which is AWESOME, but he is terrified of the toilet.
Friday he had to poop. I knew it, he knew it, the American people knew it. Every time I changed his wet pull up there was a little skid, like it was trying like hell to come out and he clamped shut the doors to freedom and told it to get its ass back inside.
The bathroom, take one:
"Corey, do you have to go poopy?"
*Corey nods fevently*
"Do you want to try and go poopy on the potty?"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."
After this exciting incident, which resulted in him adamantly refusing to even SIT on the toilet, we just put his pull-up on and decided he would go when he was ready.
He shuffled around with clenched cheeks while he played, uttering "mommy mommy mommy" under his breath. He still wouldn't poop.
Naptime. He fell asleep and the other teacher noticed that someone smelled like poop when it came time to wake up. I hypothesized that Corey's bowels had played a game of "Everybody Out" while he was sleeping.
Nope.
He has sub-conscious sphincter control.
The bathroom, take two.
"Corey, doesn't your tummy hurt?"
*Corey nods*
"Your tummy is telling you that you need to go poopy."
*Corey nods again, points at urinal*
"You can't go poop in there. You have to go on the big potty"
"Nooo."
"Do you want to try and go poopy on the potty?"
"Noooo!"
"If you sit down and try, you'll get a sticker. Would you like a sticker?"
"Yeah!"
*Corey goes to the toilet, pulls down his pants, steps on the stepstool, turns in a circle, and gets back down*
"Corey, you need to sit on the toilet and go poop. Do you need help getting on the potty?"
*Corey nods*
*I pick up Corey and put him on the toilet*
*Corey jumps up like I stuck his ass in glowing embers*
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
So I pulled up his pull-up and told him he could poop in it.
His mom picked him up and we told her he had been holding it for about six hours. She said he does it at home too, because he doesn't like the potty.
I guess that's one diaper I won't worry about changing any time soon.
Friday he had to poop. I knew it, he knew it, the American people knew it. Every time I changed his wet pull up there was a little skid, like it was trying like hell to come out and he clamped shut the doors to freedom and told it to get its ass back inside.
The bathroom, take one:
"Corey, do you have to go poopy?"
*Corey nods fevently*
"Do you want to try and go poopy on the potty?"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."
After this exciting incident, which resulted in him adamantly refusing to even SIT on the toilet, we just put his pull-up on and decided he would go when he was ready.
He shuffled around with clenched cheeks while he played, uttering "mommy mommy mommy" under his breath. He still wouldn't poop.
Naptime. He fell asleep and the other teacher noticed that someone smelled like poop when it came time to wake up. I hypothesized that Corey's bowels had played a game of "Everybody Out" while he was sleeping.
Nope.
He has sub-conscious sphincter control.
The bathroom, take two.
"Corey, doesn't your tummy hurt?"
*Corey nods*
"Your tummy is telling you that you need to go poopy."
*Corey nods again, points at urinal*
"You can't go poop in there. You have to go on the big potty"
"Nooo."
"Do you want to try and go poopy on the potty?"
"Noooo!"
"If you sit down and try, you'll get a sticker. Would you like a sticker?"
"Yeah!"
*Corey goes to the toilet, pulls down his pants, steps on the stepstool, turns in a circle, and gets back down*
"Corey, you need to sit on the toilet and go poop. Do you need help getting on the potty?"
*Corey nods*
*I pick up Corey and put him on the toilet*
*Corey jumps up like I stuck his ass in glowing embers*
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
So I pulled up his pull-up and told him he could poop in it.
His mom picked him up and we told her he had been holding it for about six hours. She said he does it at home too, because he doesn't like the potty.
I guess that's one diaper I won't worry about changing any time soon.
Will Learns Colorful Language
This happened a few weeks ago. I had taken Will to the bathroom (always a tricky feat - does he really have to go or is he just looking for an escape and a chance to bolt?) and he decided he was going to become a noodle on the steps. When I did get him into the bathroom, he wouldn't pee or even try, so I said we were going back to the classroom.
He stood in the doorway and gave me his patented "I hate you, stupid." (Which comes out "I hatechoo, stoopit"). He said this twice and when I didn't react he flung this little nugget at me: "You fuckin' ass." Ooooh, what was that, little man? As if he had heard this internal double-take, he repeated himself in what I can only imagine was a selfless act to make sure I caught what he had said to me and he had made himself perfectly clear. How charming and thoughtful of him.
I took him back to the classroom so he could tell the other teachers his new words.
Too bad this was before the "If You're Angry And You Know It" song. We could have avoided the whole ordeal had he only known he could take a deep breath or tell a friend instead of saying such ghastly things.
He stood in the doorway and gave me his patented "I hate you, stupid." (Which comes out "I hatechoo, stoopit"). He said this twice and when I didn't react he flung this little nugget at me: "You fuckin' ass." Ooooh, what was that, little man? As if he had heard this internal double-take, he repeated himself in what I can only imagine was a selfless act to make sure I caught what he had said to me and he had made himself perfectly clear. How charming and thoughtful of him.
I took him back to the classroom so he could tell the other teachers his new words.
Too bad this was before the "If You're Angry And You Know It" song. We could have avoided the whole ordeal had he only known he could take a deep breath or tell a friend instead of saying such ghastly things.
Golden Showers Part Two
I took Dan to the potty on Wednesday. He now will go but prefers to sit to pee rather than stand. Whatever. I figured he had the protocol down but just for safety's sake, I told him to "make sure he pointed his pee-pee into the toilet." He stuck his hand in his crotch and adjusted. Good. I looked away and when I looked back, a yellow river had become dammed and was rising along the banks of his legs.
What does one do when running on holy-shit adrenaline? I pulled his knees apart.
He peed upward in an arc. Somehow I was mercifully missed by his fountain of urine.
I yelled, "STOP STOP STOP!!!" like a three-year old knows how to do kegel exercises. When my futile exclamations did nothing (big surprise) to stop the ever flowing piss-stream, I did what seemed logical...I just stuck his knees back together.
Another river ensued, and when he was FINALLY done, I just had him pull up his pants (with a wet spot, go figure) and we washed our hands and went back to class.
He did it twice the next day; thank God I wasn't there. By Friday he had gotten the whole aiming thing down, but for some reason he'll stand there and slap himself in the genitals a couple times before I can stop him and make him just point and click.
What does one do when running on holy-shit adrenaline? I pulled his knees apart.
He peed upward in an arc. Somehow I was mercifully missed by his fountain of urine.
I yelled, "STOP STOP STOP!!!" like a three-year old knows how to do kegel exercises. When my futile exclamations did nothing (big surprise) to stop the ever flowing piss-stream, I did what seemed logical...I just stuck his knees back together.
Another river ensued, and when he was FINALLY done, I just had him pull up his pants (with a wet spot, go figure) and we washed our hands and went back to class.
He did it twice the next day; thank God I wasn't there. By Friday he had gotten the whole aiming thing down, but for some reason he'll stand there and slap himself in the genitals a couple times before I can stop him and make him just point and click.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Some more new kids on the block
In addition to Corey, Dan, and Laurel...we now have Billie and Gloria. I haven't met Gloria yet but Billie is a cute girl who wears a lot of pink, is pretty well potty trained, and flips her shit when she gets dropped off. We have a cryer, ladies and gentlemen.
I'm down to working two days a week so I miss out on a lot of the fun going on with all my crazy kids.
JoAnn, Katherine, and Molly have all moved up to preschool with Bailey, and I see them in the halls sometime but I'm so busy carting mine around that I can't spend much time other than to say hello. Sad.
I'm down to working two days a week so I miss out on a lot of the fun going on with all my crazy kids.
JoAnn, Katherine, and Molly have all moved up to preschool with Bailey, and I see them in the halls sometime but I'm so busy carting mine around that I can't spend much time other than to say hello. Sad.
If you're angry and you know it...
We have a booked called "If you're angry and you know it," and we sing the song mainly for Will, who gets pissed at everything and throws stuff if you cease giving him attention (come on everybody, big sigh: *home problems*). The first time we sang it he sat there with his arms crossed in a chair...he knew. He knew the song was his song.
But Danielle likes it too! Daily, she wants to sing the song. She likes to act it out (stomp your feet, bang a drum, walk away, take deep breaths, tell a friend), and last week I came in at 7:30am and took the two kids who were there (Corey and Danielle) to our classroom.
Danielle promptly said, "I'm angry."
I asked, "Why?"
She replied, "I'm angry and I know it!"
I laughed. She played. It makes a lovely story.
But Danielle likes it too! Daily, she wants to sing the song. She likes to act it out (stomp your feet, bang a drum, walk away, take deep breaths, tell a friend), and last week I came in at 7:30am and took the two kids who were there (Corey and Danielle) to our classroom.
Danielle promptly said, "I'm angry."
I asked, "Why?"
She replied, "I'm angry and I know it!"
I laughed. She played. It makes a lovely story.
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