That is a shriek of excitement and a sigh of relief. School is out and summertime is here. To manage my sanity, I am making an elaborate calendar of events so that Dillon and I will never be bored. I am working a little, so he will be hanging with his peeps at daycare some, but when he isn't, we are going to have a riot. A riot
, I tell ya!
Speaking of riots, today was one.
Daniel and I worked the nursery at church so other people could pay attention to the service without having to cram Cherrios into the mouths of babes. We are actually on this rotating "volunteer" calendar, so every few weeks, we are up for our tour of duty again.
There are two types of volunteers: Primarily there are those whose only qualification is that they have participated in the parenting of one or more children at our church. Secondly, there are always the "crazies" who actually want
to spend the hour fishing toy parts out of slobbery mouths.
We are definitely the first type. I would rather pierce my ears with an ice pick than keep kids in the nursery.
This morning, we got settled in. Daniel chose a wooden rocking chair way over in the corner. I chose to sit on the floor and get mobbed by kids. We had a total of 12. A few rotated through some brief naps, but basically it was just us against them for sixty minutes.
One sweet little girl who was MAYBE
one year old had a sticker on her back. It said "POTTY TRAINING! PLEASE TAKE ME EVERY 10 MINUTES!" Needless to say, that sticker accidentally found its way into the trashcan. That isn't potty training. That is timing. And I did not
have the time.
Another girl cried endlessly, stopping only to push her paci back into her mouth, then she would rev up again, only to drop the paci again. Vicious cycle.
We had a poop disaster about halfway through our tour, and I, being the female on duty, got to deal with THAT.
(Daniel still held down the rocking chair, insisting that if he needed to hold a baby, he could.)
Overall the kids were good until 11:45. At that time, they all started whining for their mothers. I pulled out my secret weapon - Honey Nut Cheerios. Each kiddo got a paper cup and a few snacks to tide them over. In his enthusiasm for food, Dillon clambored over several mini-kids, lunging for the jar of cereal.
En route to my lap, his collar got hung on the knob of a cabinet. His shirt was yanked up in the back and his legs slipped out from under him. He was dangling by his collar, his cheeks and chin fat pushed forward so he looked like some sort of sumo wrestler. His eyes wide with surprise, he waved his arms and scrabbled his legs, trying to get footing.
Remember in Home Alone when the robbers hang Macaulay Culkin on the back of the door? That is what Dillon looked like.
(Please note that Daniel is still holding the rocking chair down.)
Needless to say, I rescued Dillon, soothed the smooshed kids under his feet, and evenly distributed Cheerios to all injured parties. I changed four diapers, dutifully took Miss Priss to the potty, and packed up diaper bags.
When twelve o'clock rolled around, I eagerly passed the babies to their families. At this time, Daniel stood up and started putting toys away.
When everyone was gone, we gathered Dillon and all of his accessories, and headed home.
At this time, Daniel found it appropriate to say "Whew! I'm glad that's over. I HATE nursery duty!"