because

 

because boys should be allowed to spend time in trees

because they should be encouraged to stay outside from sun up to sun down

because boys should be able to get their feet dirty and their faces dirtier

because they should be shown how to skip rocks and make forts

Because they are boys and they do things like this

1, 2, 3 eyes on me

"Tootsie Roll... lollipop... you're all are talkin and need to stop"

One of Mrs Cliche's most popular phrases.  After waking, dressing, feeding and dropping off four of my very own children I drove to a daycare center at 7:30 this morning.  Part of the pediatric clinical section I'm making up at school is to spend the day at a childcare center.  I had the privilege of spending the day with 15 four year olds.

Mrs. Cliche introduced me:

"Class, this is Erin, she is our classroom visitor today.  We may not pull Erin's hair, put our hands in her pockets, touch her things, fight over her.   We may not kick, trip, or bite Erin.  There will be no arguing with her or shouting at her.  Erin is here to play with everyone and we will all take turns with her."

I was a little nervous to say the least. Did these children have a history of attacking visitors?  As soon as I sat down on the letter E in the alphabet rug I realized the warning was quite necessary.  I was mauled by several boys and one particularly aggressive girl. 

We started our morning by journaling about snakes.  I soon became the appointed snake expert and was required to answer things like, are pit vipers of rattle snakes more poisonous?  Have you ever been bit by a rat snake?  Are you afraid of snakes Miss Erin?  What is your favorite kind of snake Miss Erin?  Do rat snakes eat rats or look like rats?  I answered all of these as honestly as I could without conveying a negative image of the snakes.  I'm sure I wasn't supposed to say, I'm afraid of snakes and I don't have a favorite, I hate them all. 

Next it was time for breakfast, the children washed their hands for the 4th time and it was only 8:00.  I guess that's what happens when children are in a hospital ran daycare.  I felt compelled to scrub in again even though my hands were already raw and starting to chafe.  Poor kids.  Breakfast was uneventful with the exception of my aggressive best friend.  She took two extra pieces of toast but was allowed to keep them because she quickly took a bite out of them both before it was noticed.  Rewarded for breaking the rules, interesting.  All the children stared while she ate her three pieces of toast and pointed out the fact that she had three and they only had one.  I felt guilty by association.  One particularly bright boy pointed out that while she did get to eat three pieces of toast, now she had to eat three crusts,  Yuck.  Good point. 
I tried to loose her during free play.  I made a beeline for home living while she sat there scanning the room for me.  It wasn't long before I was spotted.  She flew over and attached herself to me once again.  Soon we were scolded for exceeding the capacity in the home living center.  Disciplined for breaking a rule that I didn't even know existed.  So typical, nothing changes.  This was a little distressing.  It wasn't the first rule I had broken today, but it was the first one I was called out on.  I felt like I was just another naughty four year old.  When a fight broke out about who was going to have to leave home living, I announced that I would be one of the people going and all seven others followed right behind me. 

I wandered over to the Lego table.  After carefully checking the maximum capacity I selected 3 chosen boys to build with me.  I started to build a big wall.  It was a precise pattern.  One red line along the bottom then a yellow and green checkered second row then a blue third row.  The boys tried to help.  As soon as they weren't looking I would have to quickly dismantle their less than perfect work.  Their complete disregard for my architectural plans and color scheme was insensitive to say the least.  I was just starting in on the fifth row of my most beautiful wall when Mrs. Cliche announced it was time to pick up.  I think I was just as ticked as the rest of the kids that we had to stop playing and move onto another activity.   C'mon Mrs. Cliche.  I felt like arguing but bit my tongue and instead rolled my eyes and made all the little boys laugh. 

Nest was circle time where I was invited to read a snake book to the children.  I was corrected when I pronounced the Spanish snake's name incorrectly.  Corrected by the class know it all, I was given lessons on rolling my R's properly.  Thank you Senor Know It All.  I was envisioning confronting him when a slightly more rude child interrupted me and made a general observation to the class,  "Miss Erin is soooooo big she can't even fit on our chairs."  I hope you have a weight problem later in life Mr, Scrawny.   And for the record, these chairs are designed for 40 pound children, not slightly larger women.  I turned the page and tried to regain control over the little beasts.  Luckily I made it through the rest of the book without and more needed corrections.  When it was time for me to review vocabulary words with them I was super tempted to call on the know it all when it was obvious that he didn't know the definition of the word Dawdle.  What's that?  Actual Factual doesn't even know what dawdle means?  How funny!  Instead I settled for not calling on him when he was raising his hand and waving it three inches from my face for every other question.  As for Mr Scrawny he didn't know what the word Dawdle was when I called on him.  I may be too big for the chair, but at least I'm super brilliant! 

After a loud lunch of pizza it was nap time.  I had a pretty tough time staying awake as I sang along with the lullaby CD playing in the dimly lit classroom.  I glanced up at the clock.  It was time to go.  I had survived.

After reflecting on my time in the classroom I am thankful that while I do have four children they are all different ages.  Too many at certain ages is far to much to handle.  I am also thankful that I never went into preschool education.  I would have never made it.  Four year olds are rude, bossy and gross.  However they are also pretty clever, imaginative and funny.   It was an interesting day and I did learn a few things that I will be sure to implement at home like 1. 2. 3 eyes on me and a few of the techniques Mrs Cliche used to keep order in the classroom. 

Thank you for allowing me to spend my day with a chaotic room full of four year olds and thank you even more that I don't actually have any four year olds at my own home right now.  I have had enough four year old action to last me until Finn becomes one. 

untitled

 

No joke, we were meandering along a secluded little beach the other day and found this little surprise.  Super strange.  I highly doubt this fruit assortment just washed up on the beach.  It’s a little hard to see, but there’s actually a strawberry and a kiwi behind the grapefruit.  How peculiar.

tommy

Some children march to the beat of a different drum.

Tommy is one of those children.

He pushes the limits and bends the rules.  In fact, I’m sure he’s actually thinking about what cast netting is and how he could get a hold of one to try.  It is entirely possible that he gets this trait from me.  After all I am a firm believer in that rules are made to be broken. 


The good news is, we have more good moments than bad.  Occasionally, I can actually catch him in a cooperative mood and suspend him there long enough to snap some photos.

top five reasons I should be blogging and not studying for my pediatrics exam

reason #1.  I have four real live pediatric patients at home to study, this shouldn't be the first time I've seen the material.  A fever means their sick and if they won't swallow their medicine, just blow in their face right?  There you have it, no need to read that fat boring book.

reason #2.  Blogging is way more fun.  No explanation needed.

reason #3.  I'm not even sure where my peds book is.  I think it's probably buried in the van in a puddle of rotten spilled protein shake.  Speaking of protein, it's time to eat lunch.  That would be reason 3 1/2, it's lunch time, not study time.

reason #4.  Petey is sitting on my lap as I type this and getting up to study would require putting him down and making him cry.  He's far too cute to do that to right now.  Even though he's whining and his nose is dripping (see, I've got the real thing right in front of me).

reason #5.  I really need a nap and so does Petey.  What kind of a mom would I be if I let my little boy whine and cry at my feet while I studied something more important.  He clearly needs someone to curl up with him and tickle his back until someone falls asleep.  It also wouldn't be wrong if I decided to sleep right next to him the entire time he naps.  It would be some good quality time and sneaking out after he falls asleep could cause mistrust (see Erickson, I did pay attention during lecture). 

So there you have it.  I think anyone of these excuses is reason enough to wing my peds exam without studying.  Wish me luck.

island adventure

The boys had off school today.  We slept in, packed a picnic lunch and headed out to see what trouble we could find.

We explored every square mile of a local island.  We watched the draw bridge go up and down, watched a fishing boat unload its catch and interviewed several crab fishermen.

The boys managed to harass some of the local wildlife and disturb several nature preserves.  We swam in the no swimming area and picnicked in the no trespassing dunes.

In an effort to take advantage of a bench photo, I lined them up.  As usual Gavin complied, Tommy tolerated, Finn violently opposed and Pete was oblivious.

Not surprisingly, Finn carried on and refused to cooperate. 

He soon rearranged my thought out photo shoot to suit himself.

Mommy 0, Finn 1.  As usual, Gavin complied, Tommy tolerated, Finn won, Pete was oblivious and I shook my head. 

 

We had a wonderful island adventure today.  We learned how to catch crabs with a net and a chicken bone, we found out what had been stinkin up the whole van (a protein shake gone bad), we checked out a future camp site and we found a great new thrift shop (Scott will be so excited to see our fondue set).  I brought back a van full of sleeping boys and…

van full of sandy footprints.

not me monday

Oh my my, it's been far to long and the confessions are piling up higher than I can handle.  Here goes, lets clear the air and wipe the slate clean.

I did not convince Scott to let us get a DVR this month, that wouldn't be right, we never watch TV in our family.  I’m most certainly did not already program it to record every episode of The Beekman Boys, because what could possibly be entertaining about two gay city men buying a goat farm without any farming experience?  That would just be bizarre.

I would never be fantasizing about adopting this year.  Our house is way too small and we already have far too many children.  Do you think we're nuts?  You definitely won't see me at the adoption orientation meeting on Tuesday night at the Lutheran church.

I do not have three boys with nice short haircuts and one eight year old with ridiculously long hair because he insists I have to pay him $20 to cut his hair.  Even if I did have said son, his hair wouldn't remain uncut simply because I really don't have $20.  I have more money than I know what to do with, you know that.

A brief update on the previous confession.  It wasn’t Gavin and I who spent the evening locked in my bathroom with the computer and the razor.  I would never let my son convince me to give him a faux hawk.  That would be far too punky, we are conservatives.  Even if I did, I would never watch a “how to give yourself a faux hawk” video while cutting his hair. 

An update on the update.  Who would ever have a dream about a photograph to show off his new haircut and then actually attach said son to the clothes line to recreate the dream.  That wasn’t me who posted a laundry day blog entry with photo of his sharp new haircut.

I did not drive part of the way home this week with a twin mattress on top of my van.  That must have been some other silver mini van with the word ass scratched into the passenger side door.

I didn't go to the $3 car wash this week like I always do just to take advantage of their "vacuum as long as you want" feature.  Assuming I did go here, I would never allow any two year olds to operate any of the vacuum hoses themselves and I would never plug three of their vacuums in the process of sucking up french fries and a moldy apple.  Who would do that?

I didn't go to the thrift store this week and pick up a Shark sweeper for $2.50 so the boys could have fun sweeping the floor.  What kind of a mom do you think I am.  I always sweep the floor myself, I don't require any of my princes to do any work.

And lastly, the pictured toilet in the driveway does not belong to me.  My small well behaved boys would never flush a stick of deodorant down a toilet and jam it so bad it would have to be thrown out.  What kind of a family do you think we are?

laundry day

 

It’s almost laundry day.  Laundry weekend really.  Scott and I recently struck a deal.  I’m in charge of dishes and he handles all laundry.  I’m certain I got the better end of the stick here. 

I’ve long since given up control in this area.  If Scott washes a hand washable or dry clean only item now, I realize I had no right owning something so delicate in the first place.  I still chuckle when I recall when he spilled beer on his tie at a wedding and decided it needed a good wash.  This was too funny.  The tie was about six feet long and in shreds as he pulled it out of the laundry basket.  “Cheap tie”. 

Scott really doesn’t believe in sorting laundry either.  He’ll do a load with my white scrubs and the boys backpacks, his Fed Ex shirts and maybe a pair of poop undies from those of us still working on potty training.  I try not to stand too close to any other students at clinicals fearing it will be all too obvious that my pants are now gray.  Consequently, I don’t really have any white clothes, some shades of light pink and varying degrees of gray, but no white. 

I am getting better at emptying my pockets now.  Scott has washed multiple cell phones over the years, my stethoscope recently and a small fortune in coins and one dollar bills.  As a general rule, disposable diapers create major problems in the washer and should be avoided.  It’s actually more of an issue for the dryer leaving permanently attached white fuzz on everything.  Other items that don’t fare as well in the dryer are crayons, Carmex, and packets of peanut butter. 

I’m sizing up the giant pile spilling out of the laundry room into the kitchen right now and estimating that Scott’s got about eight to nine loads waiting for him.  On the other hand I have about four loads of dishes laughing at me right now so I best get going.  

Pedals

On Wednesdays we don’t have much time between picking up the big boys from the bus stop and going to church however…



we do make the most of the little time we have…



today we spent the afternoon…



posing…


and pedaling…



and reading WWE wrestling magazines while pedaling…



Some of us like the camera better than others
“Take pitcher of me Mom”



“Take nother”



Several years and many miles ago the boys found these under the Christmas tree.  Our Trek trikes have been one best gifts we’ve ever purchased…



some of us just sat on the side of the street waiting…



waiting for some entertainment…
 
or for someone to come along and pinch our hand…



today we had burnt off some excess energy, gathered some rather sweet photos and…



headed to church with eight very very dirty feet…

Naughty Chair Photography Debut

I had the pleasure of spending an afternoon snapping photos of this little guy.  For the record James Jr is the world’s easiest baby to photograph.  Enjoy