Where We Are

Well I'm settling into the whole daycare director thing. This is going to work. Sunnyside Kids is off and running. I have a daily schedule with set circle time, where we concentrate on colors, rhymes, vocabulary, names, shapes, counting, calendar, etc.; a themed learning activity (we're on nursery rhymes at present); and of course, STORY TIME with the selected books keeping with our theme. I'm into themes. It is very time consuming, but a meaningful service to provide, and I love working with the children. "To love what you do and to feel that it matters, how can anything be more fun?" That is in quotes, because it is not original to me, but I can't remember who said it. Our rhyme today was "Hickory, Dickory, Dock." We made felt mice and using a dishwasher box disguised as a clock, we acted out the rhyme. We also worked on positional words. "Can you put the mouse in the clock?" "How about under the clock?" "Make the mouse run around the clock!" The kids LOVED it. They played in it all day. Then when the older kids came home from school, it was "AWESOME," "Mom, you know just what kids like," and "How come you never made a giant clock for us?" They all three got in it and recited the rhyme at least once--even the eight and a half year old. Though he tried to be cool about it, walking around the clock and mumbling the words under his breath. Then climbing in "to say hello to the little ones." Yeah, right, uh-huh. He can't fool me.
The sad truth of the matter is I'm a better mom now that I'm keeping other people's children. I'm the kind of mom I used to be when K and baby Abby were home alone with me. When I taught K to read at the ripe old age of three, and how to solve word problems, and write books, and calculate the volume of a cylinder. When I took Abby to Kindermusik class and we spent an hour every day listening, dancing and making music together. When there was 4 loads of laundry that had to be done in a week--not four in a day. When I ran the dishwasher once a day, not once every hour. And also, truthfully, back when I did not have blogs and high-speed internet access. You will be hearing from me much less frequently in the future, for sure.
Marina is in heaven. We've had her on a set schedule from the beginning. It is the only way she can function. Even when I was teaching full time, we had a private nanny that came to the house instead of daycare, all for the sake of maintaining Marina's schedule. But we've stepped up from predictable routine, to a precise, orthodox, down-to-the minute regiment. When you are orchestrating a day for five to six kids under the age of four, it just has to be that way. Marina is plum giddy about it. After breakfast we potty, then we wash our hands, then we have circle time, then we do our table time (themed activity), then we potty, wash hands, go outside....etc. She takes great delight in doing the same things at the same time in the same order, yet...I'm not sure it is a good thing for her. We were trying so hard to reverse her obsessive compulsive tendencies and I wonder if the daycare is a step back for her in that department. Like today, I caught her doing the pee-pee dance:
ME: "Marina, do you need to go potty?"
MARINA: reluctantly "Yes, ma'm"
ME: "Then why are you standing there? GO!"
MARINA: whimpering "But it is not time to go to the potty."
Now this is a kid who has been toileting %100 independently (no reminders, no set bathroom time, no putting her on the potty) for over a year now. She was standing there--in agony--about to urinate on herself, because she didn't want to go before it was "time."
In other respects, this home daycare business is wonderful for her--or perhaps I should say for me. She is surprising me in so many ways every day. I think I had my expectations set too low for her. I don't know how to say this without coming off as sounding like a class A mommy snob, and that is not my intention, but here it goes. When I consider Marina within the subset of our children alone and only see her move within that group from day to day, I am often discouraged. She doesn't speak as well as the others did at that age. She isn't able to relate concepts or predict outcomes. She doesn't obey as well. She is a much more anxious, worried child. She isn't able to regulate her emotions or communicate love--even when she desperately wants to. She often regresses to much earlier stages of development. She can become intensely jealous of her siblings and will often steal or destroy their prized possessions. These are all issues related to either her attachment problems or pre-natal drug exposure, or both.
But what I'm discovering is that Marina is completely normal! No, she is BETTER than normal--she is above average--maybe brilliant! She speaks far and away better with a wider vocabulary than the other children I have in care. She knows how to share, how to take turns, how to problem solve. Compared to her peers she is curious, eager to learn, coordinated, and attentive. And if my daycare kids were dogs--Marina would be Lassie. My child is polite, obedient, and helpful.
And who among them has her excuses for developmental gaps? Anyway, I feel so much better now, about where we are and more hopeful for the future.

Women 101

In yesterday's mad rush to make it to Sunday school on time, I assigned my oldest son, K, the task of finding socks for Randy. He found the socks in short order, cornered his brother in the bathroom, and made a valiant attempt to put them on his feet. Abby and I were in the bathroom primping at the time and we watched the wrestling match unfold.
K: If you would just be...still....wait a sec' would ya?...no, come back...give me back that sock....RANDY!!
Abby:interject long suffering sigh Would you like my assistance?

(And yes, my kids really do talk that way)

K:sounding doubtful Sure, if you think you can do any better.
Abby: plopping down and shodding Randy in all of two seconds There, that does it!
K: in astonishment How did you.....
Me: not wanting him to feel bad Well, Abby gets lots of practice dressing her baby dolls
Abby: as the angel of encouragement Don't worry Bubba, your wife will help you get your babies dressed. I don't think she will mind as long as you take out the diapers and help feed them, and you're real good at those things. As if to say that otherwise his inability to put socks on a toddler might seriously hamper his matrimony prospects.
K:thinking it over carefully You're probably right. Anyway, when it comes to having a wife, I'm still working on the basics....like remembering to put the toilette seat down.

Hey, even Don Juan had to start somewhere.

Surprise! It's a Hurricane!

Tuesday afternoon the weatherman said that there was a 30% chance of spotted showers and thunderstorms on Wednesday. This is our standard weather report. Wednesday morning there was a MONSOON. I waded through a foot of water to get to the post office. What is up with this? The weather report said that the rain was a result of a tropical depression that was just forming in the gulf. Wednesday afternoon the kid's school sent home a letter saying that class was canceled for Thursday because of the tropical storm. What tropical storm? Who said anything about a tropical storm? Wednesday night, the master woke me up, saying, "Babe, do you hear that wind? I just checked on-line and we are being hit by a hurricane. Come look at it! Wow! I'm going out to see." I roused long enough to grunt and think, "I hope he doesn't get hit with a cinder block." (In Rita, we had two cinder blocks in our back yard that were blown over the house and into the front yard). I've always wondered, and now I know, I can sleep through a hurricane.

Yesterday we woke up to a huge mess in the back yard. As the kids wandered into the living room and peered out, they exclaimed, "Mom! It looks like a hurricane has been here!" "It looks that way because there has been a hurricane." Now, for them, a hurricane is anathema ultima. Rita took their possessions, wrecked their home, and displaced their family for weeks. They still refer longingly to objects that were "lost in the hurricane." When we pass a house in disrepair, Ian always asks, "Did they have a hurricane here?" Whenever we have a storm, they cry, "Mom! It's not a hurricane is it?"

I told them gently that though there had been a hurricane, it was only a CAT 1 (they know all about levels of windstorms) and other than a big mess in the backyard and no electricity everything was fine. No, we will not have leave our house. No, the storm has already passed over, there won't be anymore Hurricane Humberto (I know better than to promise that there will not be another hurricane).

Working in electrical supply, the master was hard at work at the warehouse, and the kids and I hauled limbs all day at home. There were some that will have to wait for his chain-saw, but for the most part, it now looks less like a hurricane and more like a really bad storm came through. The kids are calling it the "little hurricane." An appellation they decided upon after concluding that there was no such thing as a "good hurricane." I agree. But I'm so thankful it was not a "bad hurricane."

One good thing that happened yesterday (besides the fact that my home and family were spared a second major disaster) was that we found a new piece of playground equipment. We drove over to the Market Basket for a loaf of bread, but our normal route had a tree across the road. On the detour, I spotted a little tikes fort set out on the curb. Upon closer inspection, I found that it was in no way damaged. I asked the guy smoking a cigarette (the cajuns in this area missed the Surgeon General's memo on the effects of tobacco use) on his front porch if he minded if we took it. He said "Go right ahead," and we loaded it up. Randy is ecstatic. It is just the right size for him.

Crocodile Smiles

For Ian's 5th birthday! I planned a last minute party--as in the day before--for Ian's birthday. This was the weekend closest to the date, which is today, but originally thought that we would not have it until next week because of the holiday. Then something came up for the the next week....and then the next....and finally I just said, "Phooey. If we don't celebrate the kid's birthday this week, it will be October before we get around to it." I decided this on Friday afternoon. I printed some homemade invitations up and rushed down to his school to pass them out as the last bell rang. We had the party on Saturday. I had planned a StarWars party at a Laser Tag place in the morning, and what we had was an Alligator Party at a Gator farm in the afternoon. But the birthday boy had a blast, and that is the important thing! He is my go-with-the-flow kid, so no worries about places or times for him. Several of his new school friends came and he LOVES the Gator Farm. They have several varieties of reptiles--crocodiles, and turtles in addition to alligators--and a very educational, hands-on presentation of the park. The highlight of the day was watching Gwendolyn, their new Nile crocodile, take a snap at a chicken leg. The pop of her jaws sounded like a gun shot. Seeing how fast that crocodile moved, it is hard to believe that Steve Irwin was killed by a sting ray.

It was a fevered few hours trying to pull off an impromptu 3-D alligator cake, but the result was so cute! The general idea I stole from a website but made a few adjustments. I used the Herbie cake pan from K's birthday, my bundt, muffin, and round cake pans, two big marshmallows, fruit slices candy, one rolled out tootsie roll, and lots and lots of green icing. Ian said that I am very 'creatable.'

Happy Birthday Ian!