Blog Hopping

This is absolutely ridiculous.

The Parents have (jokingly?) offered me a baby-sitting job over the Christmas holidays. If you ask me, kids in holiday mode are the craziest, least-rational EVER. Parents who choose to embark on that have all my sympathies.

Which is why airlines, hotel/motel-type people, tourist attractions, and anyone else who may come into contact with kids on holiday should be doing their absolute best to NOT hinder the parents in any way at all.

Sarah, I hope US Airways gets a strongly worded letter from you, perhaps accomanied by a soundtrack of over-tired kids on holiday. I'm sure they will see that happy holidaying kids are really in everybody's best interests.

Too Much Childcare

Tuesday Night:

I had a dream that involved me babysitting (or something?) Hugo but he was off at like holiday program down the track or something. And then I got worried and walked along the dirt road to where he was walking back with the group, except that he was really really dehyrated and fainting. So I picked him up and carried him back to where he'd been before, and got him checked out by someone but not an actual doctor. As we were waiting for the doctor we realised that he had a worm in his stomach (thanks House) and it came out through his bellybutton. So that was good, but then it crawled up and around his neck and attached itself to his tongue cos the woman who was supposed to be looking after him wasn't watching. But I got it off and we got him water and he was ok.

Wednesday:

I texted The Parents to make sure all three of the kids were ok, because I am a crazy girl who will stress out until she knows for sure. And they sent me cute pics of Hugo and Syddy.

Wednesday Night:

I was at a churchy-type building but I think we went in there looking for a restaurant. There was this mum being a bitch to her daughter and eventually the daughter burst into tears. Then she wrenched away from the mum and came running to me for a big hug.
(Then somehow me and my grandma were driving a car that looked like a trolley slash Laura's little jeepy thing slash bike and I had to figure out how to drive it.)

Soooo....

Is my subconsious saying I'm crap at the looking after kids thing? Or that I'm awesome?

Edited to add: That Wednesday Night one was totally a dream as well, in case you thought I really was about to crash a trolley/jeep/scooter thing while my grandma was in it.

Read The Signs

Seriously, can someone explain to me why I'm not doing early childhood education or some such studyness?

They're growing up so fast

Start of the new school year.

Big Jack's off to Big School.

Nicholas will be off.

Mark will be starting with a cast on his foot. Not sure if that will suck or make him the coolest kid in his class.

Jessie will still be doing part time preschool and us.

Jack and Damon and Sian I think will be going to our preschool.

I pity the preschool teacher if perchance we actually have one.

And Hugo will be going to Nemarluk. In a taxi. Hmmm.

And I'll be starting at 8:30 instead of 9am. Sucks to be me. Except not, cos I only have two and a half more weeks before I basically say goodbye to them forever. Now that sucks.

I wanna be Syd

I want to be a four-year-old forever. Or Little Miss Syd.

You have to paint pictures or do collages all day. Then people say nice things about them, no matter what.

You have ride around bikes and be pushed on swings and go on bear hunts all day.

You get to sleep for two hours in the middle of every day.

You have your own personal hairdresser (which I would kill for and is the main point of my jealousy of Syd. I love people brushing my hair).

Seriously. How awesome would that be.

Incidentally, my dad is getting a prettiful calendar and Christmas card that I collaged for him all by myself at creche. He'll take it to work and be so very proud of his clever daughter.

Things I've Learned

7am is not merely a fictional device.

7am as a real time is muchly overrated.

If you begin work at 7am, the morning goes for-freaking-ever.

You do get a morning tea break though, which is nice.

A longer lunch break is over-rated. What the hell are you gonna do for the extra fifteen minutes? Nothing, that's what.

Being left alone in a playground (or a department store) is not as much fun when it seems like your parents have forgotten to pick you up.

If I swing real hard, I really can touch the shadecloth.

Things I Remember Part 1

Thinking about my own creche days:

One day I really wanted to be patted, but I assume that I went to sleep by myself or was too old to be patted or something, but no one was patting me.

Finally (probably cos I was annoying them by not going to sleep, or they got all the rowdy kids off to sleep) someone came to pat me.

BUT instead of stroking my back like I wanted (hair even would have been ok) I got a fully hard PAT on my back (or bum maybe) which was
a) nowhere near what I wanted, and
b) way more likely to keep me awake than put me to sleep.

However, I assume I had a sleep that day (but maybe not) but if I did, I feel sure it was out of self-defence so I didn't get freaking patted to death.

Lost in Translation

I don't even go to work and I come home with a story. Geez.

I'd been at the blood bank donating, come out, and sat to have a drink and a chocolate. A mother had been donating at the same time as me and we ended up at the same table, along with her two girls, I'm thinking 2 1/2 and 3 1/2 and their ten-month-old baby brother. The nurse woman comes out, gives us our drinks and two lollipops to the two girls.

The baby is chatting away to himself next to the elder of the two girls (Sarah. The other one was Charlotte, in case anyone's interested.) She listens to him for a little while, then turns back to the table and says "Connor wishes he could have a lollipop too." Their mother goes "Do babies eat lollipops?" (obviously an old conversation, as the two replied in near unison.) "Noo," shaking their heads. Sarah thinks about this for a while then tells us,

"Connor says he has a lollipop in his dreams."

Too many cooks

In this instance, I'm referring to people who are employed to do a specific job and then think they can have a say in the running of the whole operation.

So far, they've consulted us (me, A, & T), the special school guy, the speech therapist, the pediatritian, the psychologist, themselves, and the postman. Ok I made the last one up, and I'm all for having a good research base, but once you've worked out a system, let us use it and stop giving us all the subsequent opinions you've collected like trading cards.

Especially when one is the speech therapist, who (a) doesn't have a normal accent, and (b) knows nothing about any situation except speaching.

Birthdays Pt 2

Checked out Ysobel's book. Turns out it's her birthday next week. T and I, being the greedy pigs that we are, were going "Yay, cake!" Took a time out from all the drooling to check the day - yep, I'm away that day. Checked again - yep, so is T. No cake for us.

Gets Everywhere

I am also really sick of sand. Really really sick of it.

Yesterday as soon I got there, I got a great big hug from Emma. It was very nice. Until the sand (which covered about 90% of her body) became ingrained in the lipgloss I had applied about ten minutes before. Yum.

Not to mention the sand has completely ruined my Kayanos.

A day without...

It wouldn't be a normal day without...
{Also entitled, Things I Am Really Sick Of Saying}

Would you like milk or water?
Slowly, and up to the line.
Walking on the concrete!
5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0...
Pack away first.
Plate on the trolley.
Cup on the trolley.
Chair away.
Did you wash your hands?
Soap, this time.
Where's your hat?
Hat on your head.

On a side note, I have never seen Kaitlyn or Ysobel with their hats on their heads. Never ever. They are also somewhere lying on the ground.

It's Contagious...

Cos cos cos cos cos.

She says it all the time. Annoying, not to mention doubly so as it's contagious. T and I always find ourselves doing it too on the days Molly's here.

Also her never-ending "My mum's coming to pick me up?" which she's got some of the other kids asking too. It's not like she doesn't know the answer either. I think she just wants the reassurance.

I had to laugh though. I think it was something like her second day here. First day we'd let her sook a bit as she was new. This day though I wasn't going to go through a whole day with her crying so I went the the day's schedule with her:

"First we're going to have a play outside, then we'll go inside, then we'll have lunch and a sleep, then you'll wake up, then we'll all go and have a play outside and a snack and then... you're mum's gonna come and pick up!"

She seemed happy with the plan.

"So you wanna go on the swings now?" Hopeful of me I know. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

"Can you tell me that story again?"

Gotta love it.

Everything in Nothing

Children find everything in nothing; men find nothing in everything.

- Giacomo Leopardi, Zibaldone Scelto.