Week 1 of wrangling cutie-pie preschoolers is in the books, and I? Am on some serious cold meds. Caleb and Merrick took my place at the Color Me Rad 5k this morning because running 3 miles with a NyQuil hangover isn’t exactly my world right now. I’m only a little bummed, because the absolute joy my son displayed at the news of going to get soaked in paint with his dad just tickled me, almost to death; in fact I lay here with my death rattle and my puppy and my coffee and I’m kinda mad because my husband didn’t train for this at all and he’s gonna get the free knee socks, what the actual heck.
Anyway, some things I’ve observed/learned in just one week of teaching:
•Individually, these children are a dream. Sooooo sweet and so affectionate and thoughtful and full of curiosity and they are just so precious…
•But as a group they’ll take you down. They’re like eleventy-million adorable puppies, each one so cute, all of them just doin’ what puppies do, at the same time. I guess what I mean is, if you had a six-pack of 5-hour-energy bottles and you drank maybe twice that amount, you could make it until nap time.
•Preschool is basically bathroom breaks on rotation–one child goes, they all have to go. And once you get the last child off the potty, you have 11.4 minutes before the cycle begins again.
•In between that is when you bend down a lot because they are trying to whisper something to you, like “I have new socks” or “My name is Rainbow Dash” and then they sneeze in your mouth. I believe with all my heart that this trickery is unintentional.
Here I am in all my Mother’s Day Out glory, so full of wonder and excitement, as I always am when I get a new t-shirt or there’s coffee:
And here is a picture of me after the first day: Just kidding, I didn’t take a picture because I was dead.
•I have a plan, though, of action, in the hopes of making the coming weeks and months a little easier for myself and for the kids. Cue the Rocky music:
–Go to Walmart and lick all the cart handles to build my immunity.
–Get a gym membership and strengthen my back.
–Rock some killer orthopedic shoes.
–Sweat-proof mascara/eyeliner…actually maybe I’ll just stop trying to look cute altogether because by the end of the day my entire face is melted off and my hair is shot and I’m hobbling around and basically the life of a three-year-old handler is not a glamorous one.
•But my heart is so full and I’m hooked and I am IN it now.
In other news, the art studio is one step closer to classes. I know I said September but that may be pushing it. The place is essentially organized but between other painting projects, Mia’s softball games and Caleb’s work schedule and a son whose love language is Quality Time and a baby whose hobbies involve death-defying acts, including, but not limited to, sticking her tongue in an electrical socket, it might be October before I buy supplies and put an actual lesson plan together. But the mural is coming along nicely.
I wasn’t too sure about the desert–at first it wasn’t turning out at all like I had hoped, but that’s only mainly because I was trying to stick to a certain “look”…once I let go of any set ideas, it started to flow and I’m happy with the overall progress. Merrick is once again helping, which I love and encourage.
Only one and a half more walls to cover before I can convince Caleb to let me tackle some walls in other parts of the house.