Last night was one of those nights at work when I realize that there is nothing else like it.
We have a deaf girl who helps out on busy nights and Wednesday is definately one of those nights. It is important to note at this point that I know so very little sign language. So anyway, the girl comes into the office and gets my attention. I recognize the sign "toilet" (which is an important sign to know if you work with children) and deduce that there are two children who have gone to the bathroom and have yet to return. My job is to find them and return them. Oh, I don't know who they are. I just know they will be between 3 1/2 and 4 1/2. Thats it.
So I walk down the hallway and see a little girl and her mom coming out of the restroom. She looks about the right age, so she must be one of them. I peek my head in the restroom and see it is full so I figure the other one is in there and I will wait by the door.
At this point I look down the hallway and see the helper gesturing and realize that the two children are boys and in the boys restroom.
Damn.
I hate dealing with the boys bathroom. It always smells and it makes me uncomfortable as I am not a male.
So I walk up to the boys bathroom and do a timid little knock and ask if they are okay. Nothing. The door is cracked so I peek in and see two tiny sets of feet in one stall. Great. I stand in the hallway a moment debating what to do. I am not comfortable enough to enter the boys bathroom and demand they return to class (a teacher only asks me to retrieve a child if they've been gone a while...so apprently these boys are MIA to their teacher). I hope that they will just finish up on their own and I can then shoo them to class.
Nope. I peek in again and they are still standing in the stall. I also notice that their pants are strewn about.
GREAT. This is not in my job description (actually, this falls under "other").
So I tap again and open the door a little further and say "do you guys need any help?" To this I get a response. One of the little boys comes out of the stall and says yes. And there in front of me is a boy of his late 3s who has no pants on and a shirt just covering his parts. Oh lordy.
"Okay." I say. "How about you get your pants on." He looks at me, grabs a pair of shorts and with one hand holding them at an angle, attempts to put them on. It doesn't work. He brings them to me. "Can you help?" Ok. But at this point I realize there are no underwear in the shorts. So I ask him where they are. "I dunno." Um, are those it over there? "No." Um, did you wear underwear here today? "I dunno."
Oh geez. Fine, lets just get your pants on. Okay wash your hands and we'll get you back to class. At this point the other little boy comes out of the stall with a shirt that just barely covers things too. I ask if he's finished and he says yes.
"Please put your pants on then."
He puts on his pull ups on and comes over to me.
"And your pants please." He finally puts those on too. He then turns around and sees the urinal. "I have to go again."
"I highly doubt that." But he strips his pants off. He walks up to the urinal, to which his head just barely comes up to the bottom of the thing.
"You can't reach it."
"Yes I can." And he starts jumping!
"Ahhhh. Stop. If you must, pull the stool over."
I give up. I will just try to get the first boy to class. He is done washing and drying so we walk back to the gym door. I see his teacher and ask where the other boy's mom is. I explain I can't get him out. He's playing. She looks around, lost like and finally sees someone to whom she goes to talk to.
At this time I turn around to go check on boy 2 and see boy 1 at the water fountain. WHAT? I did my job and returned him to class. HOW did he end up in the hallway at the water fountain!?! So I talk to him and he decided to go back to class. We walk that way and run into the woman headed to the bathroom. Apparently, its his mom. So he turns around and follows her.
Ahhhh! I can not get these kids to go back to class!! The mom walks into the bathroom and tells the little boy to get his pants on and get back to class. "This is not how we act."
I look at her and timidly say, "I tried. Its not easy."
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Its not the same for everyone
A while back, I was talking with my mom and some how our conversation turned to mice and mice traps. I told her I could never use the sticky pads because they are just mean and inhumane and make me feel bad for the mouse. This feeling is made worse by the fact that I had mice as pets when I was little.
At this point in the conversation, my mother looked at me confused. She had no recollection of it.
When I was younger, my mom worked at The University of Nebraska Medical Center in the research department. She worked with mice and rats on a daily basis.
*Side note: I went with her to work a couple times and during one trip she showed me how you humanely kill a mouse...you put a pen or object behind its head and pull its tail to break its neck. I was like 6. This may explain things about me...
Anyway, in one shipment of mice, there arrived a pregnant mouse. I guess they couldn't do testing on pregnant mice, so my mom brought her home. We created a cage for her and allowed her to have her babies. I remember there being 10 all together, but time could have created that number...regardless, there were many of them and my brother and I played with them just as you would a hamster. It was fun. My brother and I would sit in a straddle facing each other and play with the mice in the middle of us. We'd create obstacle courses and everything!
Eventually they grew up and my mom said we had to do something because they would soon start mating with one another.
We let them out in the forest of the park down the street. It was bitter sweet. I'm pretty sure I was over it rather quickly.
The point is, I have many distinct memories of this time. My mother has none. How odd.
At this point in the conversation, my mother looked at me confused. She had no recollection of it.
When I was younger, my mom worked at The University of Nebraska Medical Center in the research department. She worked with mice and rats on a daily basis.
*Side note: I went with her to work a couple times and during one trip she showed me how you humanely kill a mouse...you put a pen or object behind its head and pull its tail to break its neck. I was like 6. This may explain things about me...
Anyway, in one shipment of mice, there arrived a pregnant mouse. I guess they couldn't do testing on pregnant mice, so my mom brought her home. We created a cage for her and allowed her to have her babies. I remember there being 10 all together, but time could have created that number...regardless, there were many of them and my brother and I played with them just as you would a hamster. It was fun. My brother and I would sit in a straddle facing each other and play with the mice in the middle of us. We'd create obstacle courses and everything!
Eventually they grew up and my mom said we had to do something because they would soon start mating with one another.
We let them out in the forest of the park down the street. It was bitter sweet. I'm pretty sure I was over it rather quickly.
The point is, I have many distinct memories of this time. My mother has none. How odd.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Running in Circles
A lot of my friends have started running races. Like real ones. Where you actually run a rediculous amount of miles.
I'm guessing you know how I feel about that. I am not a runner. The thought makes my nose crinkle in dissatisfaction.
I don't know when or why I became so appalled to running. Its silly. Every once in a great while, I will try to convince myself that it is not that bad. That running would be good for me and would be a great stress reliever. But then I walk outside and think...naw, I'll just walk.
I'm not opposed to excercise in general. I did participate in the MS Bike Ride last summer...which was like 80 miles over two days. I like my eliptical.
Running just exhausts me. Even just watching.
But there's still something inside me that wants to be able to say..."Yeah, I just ran a 5K. No biggie."
I'm guessing you know how I feel about that. I am not a runner. The thought makes my nose crinkle in dissatisfaction.
I don't know when or why I became so appalled to running. Its silly. Every once in a great while, I will try to convince myself that it is not that bad. That running would be good for me and would be a great stress reliever. But then I walk outside and think...naw, I'll just walk.
I'm not opposed to excercise in general. I did participate in the MS Bike Ride last summer...which was like 80 miles over two days. I like my eliptical.
Running just exhausts me. Even just watching.
But there's still something inside me that wants to be able to say..."Yeah, I just ran a 5K. No biggie."
Saturday, September 26, 2009
A Return
I've felt a calling to return to blogging.
I've been on a hiatis due to many things, including a dead laptop and a monotonous feeling about my life (could be low B12 again...).
Anyway, I'm going to try to to get back on the blogging horse.
On a totally different note, I went to Myka's soccer game this morning at one of the local high schools and the band was there getting ready to go to a competition. I was so jealous. At that moment, I would have done just about anything to experience one more Saturday Band Competition. Those were the days. I had so much fun at those competitions! Hmmm...oh, the memories.
Maybe that's what I'll share in my next post. I'll be back soon. I promise.
I've been on a hiatis due to many things, including a dead laptop and a monotonous feeling about my life (could be low B12 again...).
Anyway, I'm going to try to to get back on the blogging horse.
On a totally different note, I went to Myka's soccer game this morning at one of the local high schools and the band was there getting ready to go to a competition. I was so jealous. At that moment, I would have done just about anything to experience one more Saturday Band Competition. Those were the days. I had so much fun at those competitions! Hmmm...oh, the memories.
Maybe that's what I'll share in my next post. I'll be back soon. I promise.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Blast from the Past
I've been having a lot of weird dreams lately. They often involve people from my past. Its odd. They are people I haven't seen or even thought about in YEARS. Suddenly, they are popping up in my dreams. The other night I was at my childhood friend's house, even they weren't there. Um, I haven't been at that house in 15+ years, as he became too cool for me in 9th grade. Last night, I was hanging out with a bunch of the band nerds from high school (I was one too, so I don't say that in a judgmental way). We were our current ages and hanging out at the dunes on Lake Michigan. Very odd. I can't share details because its weird and awkward....HA!
I think it has to do with the fact that my 10 year reunion is coming up! Its not so much that I'm nervous/scared/excited about it, more that it has brought to mind people that I haven't thought about much in the last few years.
Its odd how our mind works.
I think it has to do with the fact that my 10 year reunion is coming up! Its not so much that I'm nervous/scared/excited about it, more that it has brought to mind people that I haven't thought about much in the last few years.
Its odd how our mind works.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Its Fine.
When my brother and I were younger, we'd come home from school and make a batch of chocolate chip cookie dough. Then we'd eat half the dough...raw. Then we might cook the remainder for our parents. We LOVED this.
I also remember distinctly riding in the back of the pick up truck numerous times. We used to car pool to school on days we had choir or band or whatever and sometimes when it was my mom's turn to drive we would have to take the truck and pile in the back...there was a topper, but it was just wide open back there. We were always told to sit close to the front or on the sides though. I also very vividly remember getting sick one morning after going out to brunch and on the way home from Omaha I had to ride laying down in the back of the truck because I'd throw up if I was sitting up.
In the good old days, my friend Ali and I would get on our matching bikes and ride around the neighborhood for hours. If it was a hot summer day, we'd wiggle in our swim suits and stop at all the houses watering their lawn and run thru the sprinklers. It was the best. We also would stop at the ditch and swing into it on the branches of the willow tree that hung over it. (That is until someone new moved in and yelled at us!)
The point is, I did all this and more and am still alive to tell about it.
Parents today don't let their kids do that. They don't get to go out and just play. Everything is scheduled. Parents are too worried about their kids getting sick, or fat, or abducted to really let them do anything fun or spontaneous. It makes me wonder what this generation will grow up to be like... I hope I won't be like that as a parent. I hope I remember what its like to play in the backyard until it got dark, to ride bikes all afternoon and to just have time to be a kid.
I also remember distinctly riding in the back of the pick up truck numerous times. We used to car pool to school on days we had choir or band or whatever and sometimes when it was my mom's turn to drive we would have to take the truck and pile in the back...there was a topper, but it was just wide open back there. We were always told to sit close to the front or on the sides though. I also very vividly remember getting sick one morning after going out to brunch and on the way home from Omaha I had to ride laying down in the back of the truck because I'd throw up if I was sitting up.
In the good old days, my friend Ali and I would get on our matching bikes and ride around the neighborhood for hours. If it was a hot summer day, we'd wiggle in our swim suits and stop at all the houses watering their lawn and run thru the sprinklers. It was the best. We also would stop at the ditch and swing into it on the branches of the willow tree that hung over it. (That is until someone new moved in and yelled at us!)
The point is, I did all this and more and am still alive to tell about it.
Parents today don't let their kids do that. They don't get to go out and just play. Everything is scheduled. Parents are too worried about their kids getting sick, or fat, or abducted to really let them do anything fun or spontaneous. It makes me wonder what this generation will grow up to be like... I hope I won't be like that as a parent. I hope I remember what its like to play in the backyard until it got dark, to ride bikes all afternoon and to just have time to be a kid.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Crazy Girl
Inside every female lives a Crazy Girl (I considered calling her Psycho Girl, but that brings to mind a psychotic knife wielding character from an old horror movie and I wasn't going for violent). For most of us females, we can keep Crazy Girl at bay, but she inevitably peaks her head out randomly.
What am I talking about?
If you're female, you know. If you're male, I'll try to explain. Crazy Girl is the irrational part of every female. Most socially accepted females are able to keep her in check and hidden. Some women have a little more trouble with her. She tries her best to come to the forefront and take over all thoughts. She causes women to freak out over nothing. To over analyze notes, phone calls and the like. To read into comments and behaviors of those around them. Crazy Girl likes us to think that just because our friends don't call within a certain amount of time, they don't like us any more. That our boys have someone on the side because they don't want to see us every minute of every day. And maybe that we're going to get fired because she's sure the boss gave us a funny look today.
Crazy Girl is the ultimate Drama Queen. Stirring up shit where there's only a bit of dirt to be seen.
If you're good, Crazy Girl only comes around once in a while. Our rational mind can generally keep Crazy Girl in check and remind us that no, our friends are not mad at us, our boy does not have another girlfriend and our boss is not going to fire us tomorrow. Sometimes we can stop her before the thought even fully forms, but sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes we need help to keep Crazy Girl at bay. Friends, drugs, whatever...
But be warned, when Crazy Girl is in control, she does not easily give up. Sometimes a calm rational voice of reason can shrink her away, but sometimes it only fuels her fire. There are times when she gets on a roll and will turn every word, look and action into a negative. There's not much that can be done at this point. Chocolate. Wine. Sleep. They generally work.
Good luck. And may her visits to you be few and far between.
What am I talking about?
If you're female, you know. If you're male, I'll try to explain. Crazy Girl is the irrational part of every female. Most socially accepted females are able to keep her in check and hidden. Some women have a little more trouble with her. She tries her best to come to the forefront and take over all thoughts. She causes women to freak out over nothing. To over analyze notes, phone calls and the like. To read into comments and behaviors of those around them. Crazy Girl likes us to think that just because our friends don't call within a certain amount of time, they don't like us any more. That our boys have someone on the side because they don't want to see us every minute of every day. And maybe that we're going to get fired because she's sure the boss gave us a funny look today.
Crazy Girl is the ultimate Drama Queen. Stirring up shit where there's only a bit of dirt to be seen.
If you're good, Crazy Girl only comes around once in a while. Our rational mind can generally keep Crazy Girl in check and remind us that no, our friends are not mad at us, our boy does not have another girlfriend and our boss is not going to fire us tomorrow. Sometimes we can stop her before the thought even fully forms, but sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes we need help to keep Crazy Girl at bay. Friends, drugs, whatever...
But be warned, when Crazy Girl is in control, she does not easily give up. Sometimes a calm rational voice of reason can shrink her away, but sometimes it only fuels her fire. There are times when she gets on a roll and will turn every word, look and action into a negative. There's not much that can be done at this point. Chocolate. Wine. Sleep. They generally work.
Good luck. And may her visits to you be few and far between.
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