Once upon a time
Once upon a time, I had a "real" job. One where I actually had to shave my legs more often than when a small hand stroked one and said "ooooh.... soft, like the puppy!". One where it mattered what I was wearing. One where I spoke to other adults on a regular basis and actually ate my OWN lunch every day.
Then I had children.
And started doing daycare.
And my adult conversations these days consists mostly of discussing poop. And listening to grown people speaking to kids like... well... children. Ridiculously small children with squeaky voices.
But seriously, who tells you about all the glamorous aspects of parenthood? Nobody ever warned me back when we contemplated having a child about poop. Or how corn still looks like corn when it comes out the back end.
Or how my 2 year old son (Happy Birthday, S!) would find it hilariously funny to pretend to pick a booger out of his elephant's nose and then hand it to me saying "Eat it, Momma!" as he falls over laughing at his joke.
Last week, I had the dubiously joyful task of taking the girls to their schools to drop off school supplies. At A's class (K4), the boys stampeded in noisily, found places to sit, and amused themselves with the various toys in the classroom. The baby slept peacefully in his carseat, tucked out of the way in a corner. H visited with her (old) teacher while A and I checked out the classroom.
That afternoon, we headed to the gradeschool for H's class. Someone - obviously not the parent of a toddler - had scheduled supply drop off from 2-3pm. Right smack dab in the middle of naptime. Who are they kidding? I heard many parents griping about it too as they walked in with younger siblings slung on shoulders, fast asleep.
Not my group.
In we walked. Five walking, one awake and wailing in the stroller. The minute we hit the classroom, small bodies went everywhere. I tried rounding children up. I tried asking them to come and stand quietly by me. And when all else failed, I reverted to what the dog trainer taught us - I barked a command at them.
"SIT!" I ordered. "Right here, by the stroller, and NOBODY moves or else."
Four bottoms dropped to the floor. H continued to speak to her teacher, who was grinning at me. One little voice piped up from my feet and asked if they could look at the books behind them. I agreed. And they all behaved like perfect little children.
The next day, I dropped girls at school and took my remaining quartet of boys to Linens N Things to buy muffin pans. I darn near told them all to heel, but thought better of it and told them all "Right with me, hands to yourselves, no touching ANYTHING".
The saleslady remarked on what lovely, well behaved boys I had. If she only knew.... :)
Then I had children.
And started doing daycare.
And my adult conversations these days consists mostly of discussing poop. And listening to grown people speaking to kids like... well... children. Ridiculously small children with squeaky voices.
But seriously, who tells you about all the glamorous aspects of parenthood? Nobody ever warned me back when we contemplated having a child about poop. Or how corn still looks like corn when it comes out the back end.
Or how my 2 year old son (Happy Birthday, S!) would find it hilariously funny to pretend to pick a booger out of his elephant's nose and then hand it to me saying "Eat it, Momma!" as he falls over laughing at his joke.
Last week, I had the dubiously joyful task of taking the girls to their schools to drop off school supplies. At A's class (K4), the boys stampeded in noisily, found places to sit, and amused themselves with the various toys in the classroom. The baby slept peacefully in his carseat, tucked out of the way in a corner. H visited with her (old) teacher while A and I checked out the classroom.
That afternoon, we headed to the gradeschool for H's class. Someone - obviously not the parent of a toddler - had scheduled supply drop off from 2-3pm. Right smack dab in the middle of naptime. Who are they kidding? I heard many parents griping about it too as they walked in with younger siblings slung on shoulders, fast asleep.
Not my group.
In we walked. Five walking, one awake and wailing in the stroller. The minute we hit the classroom, small bodies went everywhere. I tried rounding children up. I tried asking them to come and stand quietly by me. And when all else failed, I reverted to what the dog trainer taught us - I barked a command at them.
"SIT!" I ordered. "Right here, by the stroller, and NOBODY moves or else."
Four bottoms dropped to the floor. H continued to speak to her teacher, who was grinning at me. One little voice piped up from my feet and asked if they could look at the books behind them. I agreed. And they all behaved like perfect little children.
The next day, I dropped girls at school and took my remaining quartet of boys to Linens N Things to buy muffin pans. I darn near told them all to heel, but thought better of it and told them all "Right with me, hands to yourselves, no touching ANYTHING".
The saleslady remarked on what lovely, well behaved boys I had. If she only knew.... :)
posted by KB at 2:47 PM
1 Comments:
LOL, I've only got ONE baby to take care of and I can hardly get myself out of the house, much less wrangle all those other kids. You're obviously a pro! I'm impressed!
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