One of the joys (read: requirements) of my student teaching at the school was to plan a craft for the toddlers. I like crafts and I like children, but I was not (repeat NOT) about to do any project involving paint, no matter how much toddlers love paint. I viewed my sanity as more important than discovering the next Michelangelo in a group of 12 paintbrush-wielding people who frequently fall when they walk. We made flowers instead and except for when Isaiah ate the fish sticker I gave him as a reward, it went relatively smoothly.
Speaking of people who frequently fall while walking, I babysat Samster and Molly McChubster on Friday. Every so often their mother likes to put on real people clothing (jeans) and do real people things (ie. shop at the commissary on pay day because who wants to miss that kind of excitement?) without her darling cherubs screaming serenading her the whole time. In other words, the girl likes some alone time.
Sam was both fascinated and puzzled by the paint on the road. He stopped every. single. time. he rode by in order to discuss it.
Unfortunately, his good mood ended at lunch time. Along with his hotdog, he had a side order of whining and a big spoonful of crying.
Sam: wwwwwhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeee
Me: Why are you whining so much? Do you need to go back on the stairs?
Sam: No! No! All done!
Me: Then eat your lunch.
Sam: whhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnneeeeeeeeee CCCCRRRRYYYYYYYYY.
Me: Go back to the stairs.
*two minutes later*
Me: Are you ready to come back?
Sam: No!!
Me: You want to stay in time out?
Sam: No!!
Me: Then come back to the table.
Sam: All done!
Me: What do you want to do?
Sam: No!!
Neither of us knew were clear on what was going on.
Molly could not have been more uninterested in my presence. Please note the flower in her hair. When the mother’s away, the babysitter will play hairdresser.
As I finished changing Molly’s diaper I noticed a long white hair on my shirt. I’m praying it just happened to be hanging out on the couch since Jenn’s mother came to visit AND NOT BE FROM MY OWN HEAD.
If you need me I’ll be at the salon getting my hair colored just in case.
That paint he was telling you about? Is one of his beloved pieces of chalk that I ran over with my car. And it appears no amount of rain can wash it away either. So he was probably mourning the loss of yet ANOTHER piece of chalk. 😉
White hair might have been mine. Who knows. I pull my hair out quite frequently and that color wouldn't really surprise me much at this point.
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Aww they are sooo cute
Love that flower craft! I agree about the paint! I always avoid it no matter what. Washable markers are the way to go. 😉