It's time to launch Birthday Week! This is the week that about 50% of my family was born, so it's an important one. Today, kicking the whole thing off is my grandma, Mical. What does she get? A completely random blog entry....
Today I washed my teddy bear.
It is sunny and warm out and I figure he has as good a chance as any for actually *drying* today. I've tried washing him once before, the first year I moved to London. He had started to smell and, well, that was at least as gross as it sounds. I washed him in the sink of my dorm room and the water turned a disgusting, dark brown. I was discouraged. Also, he took many many days to try. I was further discouraged.
So I did what any normal person would do and ignored the problem for another three years. Until today! Today I fixed the problem! Today it occurred to me that while the water may turn a truly vile dark brown colour, filled with grime that does not bear thinking about, I could continue to wash him. Today it occurred to me that this wasn't a one sink full of water kind of a job.
Twelve. It was a twelve sinks full kind of a job. And my hands and wrists hurt from squeezing that much water out of essentially a fragile sponge. But by the 12th sink full? The water was running clear. Thank goodness.
Gross.
Also, can I just say that 25+ years of anthropomorphising Soft Bear makes it VERY difficult to push his head down into a sink full of water? I had to consciously keep reminding myself that I was not being evil, that teddy bears do not need to breathe, that his eyes weren't accusing me from underneath the water, that, really, it was good for him to be washed and he would thank me later even if at this current moment he couldn't understand why I was doing this to him, that when I pulled him, sodden with water, out of the sink that the reason I was holding him like a baby and supporting his head was because the fabric was fragile. Yes. That's why.
I fear I may have revealed too much here today.
Showing posts with label grossness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grossness. Show all posts
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Kids are Gross. Seriously.
I'm about to share two graphic, gross stories. I think they're funny, but if you're easily grossed out and have never been around children before ever: they may offend your sensibilities.
1. In English class this week one student ripped out his tooth. His front tooth had clearly been loose for a while and it was bleeding a bit so I sent him to the bathroom to get some water and some paper towels. When he came back I took a look to see how loose it was, and while half of it was clearly off, the other half of it was still hanging in there. It was clearly going to pop out that day, but wasn't quite ready yet. I thought about offering to yank it out for him but figured that if there wasn't already an official school policy about tearing children's teeth out of their mouths, that if I did help him out with it- there soon would be. I sent him off to the bathroom again to get more paper towels and when he eventually came back it was with with a distinct air of triumph, a bloody stump, and a front tooth in the palm of his hand.
This, of course, derailed the next five minutes of the lesson.
2. On Thursday during my incarnation as a nursery assistant I heard rather a lot of chattering coming from the tyke's toilets and so went to investigate what the party was all about. I couldn't get past the door because the stench was so strong that I had to turn around and gag. Two of them had simultaneously done the foulest poos ever and were then just sort of hanging out there for a while.
"Miss Casey? Will you wipe me?"
No.
No I will not.
If you're old enough to pour your own water, put your own shoes on, and dress yourself- you are old enough to wipe your own butt.
So I gave a little tutorial from the door (turning my head to breathe and gag again) and congratulated them as sincerely as I could when they held up their used toilet paper for me to inspect. "Well done girls. Now, for the love of god, will you please put those in the toilet and flush?"
The next tutorial I gave was how to properly and thoroughly wash your hands.
1. In English class this week one student ripped out his tooth. His front tooth had clearly been loose for a while and it was bleeding a bit so I sent him to the bathroom to get some water and some paper towels. When he came back I took a look to see how loose it was, and while half of it was clearly off, the other half of it was still hanging in there. It was clearly going to pop out that day, but wasn't quite ready yet. I thought about offering to yank it out for him but figured that if there wasn't already an official school policy about tearing children's teeth out of their mouths, that if I did help him out with it- there soon would be. I sent him off to the bathroom again to get more paper towels and when he eventually came back it was with with a distinct air of triumph, a bloody stump, and a front tooth in the palm of his hand.
This, of course, derailed the next five minutes of the lesson.
2. On Thursday during my incarnation as a nursery assistant I heard rather a lot of chattering coming from the tyke's toilets and so went to investigate what the party was all about. I couldn't get past the door because the stench was so strong that I had to turn around and gag. Two of them had simultaneously done the foulest poos ever and were then just sort of hanging out there for a while.
"Miss Casey? Will you wipe me?"
No.
No I will not.
If you're old enough to pour your own water, put your own shoes on, and dress yourself- you are old enough to wipe your own butt.
So I gave a little tutorial from the door (turning my head to breathe and gag again) and congratulated them as sincerely as I could when they held up their used toilet paper for me to inspect. "Well done girls. Now, for the love of god, will you please put those in the toilet and flush?"
The next tutorial I gave was how to properly and thoroughly wash your hands.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Tykeography
Yeah, I'm just naming tyke posts made up words at this point...but I took notes today! So you get *Accuracy* and *Authenticity* which you all should really value in a tyke post.
Now, normally I would go about this chronologically- because that is how I think of things- in order to make sure that I don't miss anything exciting. In the past this has made for what I am sure were very tedious accounts of my day at school. "Well, in first period...." So today I am going to try and break away from that pattern. Namely because what I really want to tell you is that during garden time a little girl was balancing on this plastic tyre type thing and asked "Do you want to watch me and then clap?"
The tykes were moody today. Variable. Changeable. Mercurial if you will. In one of my reception classes I got mixed up with how I was planning to start the class so instead of using a story to do a vocal warm up to-- I just started singing. Singing with hand motions. Sound effects singing. Illustrating the sound and the actions together. And the kids were doing a fantastic job. They were pitch matching. They were singing in unison. They were singing with good, loud voices. They were all engaged. They were giggling in a "this is fun" sort of way that didn't disrupt the entire class and didn't turn into a "look at ME" sort of giggle. We kept it going for a good 5 minutes longer than I would have thought possible because it was just flowing and it was beautiful and gosh darn it *I* was having fun. So we drove their teacher from the room. No worries.
Then we tried singing the name song. Nope. For some reason this class just does not get the concept of singing in call and response form. I tried beating that dead horse for longer than was strictly necessary because we had just moved mountains with our miracle vocal warm up. But to no avail. They were gone and out of it for the rest of the class. We even sang a song where they have to divide up by gender and that didn't work either. "All the boys raise their hands! No, you're a girl. You're a boy, raise your hand? No?" Right then. Whatever.
In one of the nursery classes I walked in on a show and tell presentation which consisted of an impressive rendition of "Mama Mia" including dance routine. Well done you adorable little 3 year old boy! They were delightful and though they can't keep a beat to save their little tyke lives, they did do a creditable pig pile hug at the end of class- and you have to love them for that.
Linda and I did music club together. I was fried by this point having had one 15 minute break wherein I researched songs for their nativity play for Christmas. Fortunately Linda and I had independently come up with brilliant plans for music club. It is amazing how much faster time flies when there are two of us and twenty tykes.
Linda started it out so that I could recover my brain a little, (I was grateful) and it was interesting to see how we have different approaches. She's very good at songs and props and general tyke demeanor. She has a lot of tools in her tool box. I am very good at using whatever input the tykes will give me and shoving it into a song. Example lyric "we're all spitting our tongues, all spitting our tongues, la la la la we're all spitting our tongues." Admittedly I'm not sure what "spitting our tongues" means other than that a kid was ignoring me and spitting to himself across the circle and that was the correct number of syllables. It got his attention, the tykes enjoyed the spitting, and then everyone clamored to be the next to suggest an action. Today we got to be spiderman AND spidergirl. (Is there even a spidergirl? I don't know.)
Then there was the potty incident.
More properly the potty incidentS.
More properly the "oops" lake.
Ew.
The thing is that with 20 tykes of varying ages, none of whom are more than passably familiar to either Linda or me? It is really easy to fail to recognize the signs that someone needs the toilet. Like they keep standing up, but are too shy to ask to use the toilet so they keep sitting down when we tell them to. (You're such a good little boy! I'm so sorry I didn't understand what you needed!) Okay, so that was E's excuse. But N? You're nearly 5. And you know me. E's mother was watching from the hallway and came in once she realized what had happened. So he got cleaned up fairly quickly. Then we noticed that there was more than just a dampness, there seemed to be a puddle. So we moved the tyke circle to the other side of the room. At which point it became clear that N. had also had an accident. Most of which was hidden under a rolling bookshelf. It was a giant pee lake. That, like, 4 or 5 different tykes were all sitting in. Awesome. I swear we're good and observant teachers. Honest.
Now, normally I would go about this chronologically- because that is how I think of things- in order to make sure that I don't miss anything exciting. In the past this has made for what I am sure were very tedious accounts of my day at school. "Well, in first period...." So today I am going to try and break away from that pattern. Namely because what I really want to tell you is that during garden time a little girl was balancing on this plastic tyre type thing and asked "Do you want to watch me and then clap?"
The tykes were moody today. Variable. Changeable. Mercurial if you will. In one of my reception classes I got mixed up with how I was planning to start the class so instead of using a story to do a vocal warm up to-- I just started singing. Singing with hand motions. Sound effects singing. Illustrating the sound and the actions together. And the kids were doing a fantastic job. They were pitch matching. They were singing in unison. They were singing with good, loud voices. They were all engaged. They were giggling in a "this is fun" sort of way that didn't disrupt the entire class and didn't turn into a "look at ME" sort of giggle. We kept it going for a good 5 minutes longer than I would have thought possible because it was just flowing and it was beautiful and gosh darn it *I* was having fun. So we drove their teacher from the room. No worries.
Then we tried singing the name song. Nope. For some reason this class just does not get the concept of singing in call and response form. I tried beating that dead horse for longer than was strictly necessary because we had just moved mountains with our miracle vocal warm up. But to no avail. They were gone and out of it for the rest of the class. We even sang a song where they have to divide up by gender and that didn't work either. "All the boys raise their hands! No, you're a girl. You're a boy, raise your hand? No?" Right then. Whatever.
In one of the nursery classes I walked in on a show and tell presentation which consisted of an impressive rendition of "Mama Mia" including dance routine. Well done you adorable little 3 year old boy! They were delightful and though they can't keep a beat to save their little tyke lives, they did do a creditable pig pile hug at the end of class- and you have to love them for that.
Linda and I did music club together. I was fried by this point having had one 15 minute break wherein I researched songs for their nativity play for Christmas. Fortunately Linda and I had independently come up with brilliant plans for music club. It is amazing how much faster time flies when there are two of us and twenty tykes.
Linda started it out so that I could recover my brain a little, (I was grateful) and it was interesting to see how we have different approaches. She's very good at songs and props and general tyke demeanor. She has a lot of tools in her tool box. I am very good at using whatever input the tykes will give me and shoving it into a song. Example lyric "we're all spitting our tongues, all spitting our tongues, la la la la we're all spitting our tongues." Admittedly I'm not sure what "spitting our tongues" means other than that a kid was ignoring me and spitting to himself across the circle and that was the correct number of syllables. It got his attention, the tykes enjoyed the spitting, and then everyone clamored to be the next to suggest an action. Today we got to be spiderman AND spidergirl. (Is there even a spidergirl? I don't know.)
Then there was the potty incident.
More properly the potty incidentS.
More properly the "oops" lake.
Ew.
The thing is that with 20 tykes of varying ages, none of whom are more than passably familiar to either Linda or me? It is really easy to fail to recognize the signs that someone needs the toilet. Like they keep standing up, but are too shy to ask to use the toilet so they keep sitting down when we tell them to. (You're such a good little boy! I'm so sorry I didn't understand what you needed!) Okay, so that was E's excuse. But N? You're nearly 5. And you know me. E's mother was watching from the hallway and came in once she realized what had happened. So he got cleaned up fairly quickly. Then we noticed that there was more than just a dampness, there seemed to be a puddle. So we moved the tyke circle to the other side of the room. At which point it became clear that N. had also had an accident. Most of which was hidden under a rolling bookshelf. It was a giant pee lake. That, like, 4 or 5 different tykes were all sitting in. Awesome. I swear we're good and observant teachers. Honest.
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