In Our Midst

It was with great interest that I watched Nicholas pretend to punch in the code that he can barely reach to the daycare classrooms  the other day.  When the door opened, I figured he had caught one of the moments that the thing had not hooked all the way closed.

They rushed in.

Then, when he did it again the next day, I asked.

"Nicholas, how do you know the code?"

"I watch.  I'm like a spy."

But of course.

Stunningly Ridiculous

Pre-school

We just picked up our 16 uniform tops yesterday.

Crazy People

Up at 6 this morning.

Tearing through the pantry digging out everything to see if they can take it to the Valentine's Party at school today.

Asked me no fewer than five times if I had read the sheet and remembered to bring their stuff.

One minute into our two minute drive to daycare, "Wheeeeeen are we going to get to the party?!"

Uniforms

Debate amongst yourselves.

We do in our house.

More Clues

Not really. She just comes home like this now.

You Are Three

Could you please stop bringing home homework?

And could you please stop looking like you're old enough for homework?

Intellectual Conversations

After dinner the boys raced each other to the bathroom. While one waited, the other dawdled. When it got to the point that it was an issue, I suggested that the upstairs potty be put to use. He ran off thinking this was a good idea for the first time ever.





"He went upstairs?"


"Yes son. You are taking a long time."


"Oh, that makes me sad."





Meanwhile between helping the girls eat, shoving dishes in the machine that cleans them magically for me, cleaning up the floor and answering the inevitable "I need help" call from upstairs, I glanced at the stack of papers from daycare.





"Benjamin was bombed that he didn't have his homework with him today. Please help him remember for tomorrow."


Bombed?


"Nicholas had a great day, but he was sad that he didn't have his homework to share with everyone today."





And sadness washed over the Stuber house. Well, actually indignation washed over me. I had remembered the homework as we were walking out the door that morning--the homework we had not even attempted to complete. They're three. The homework was to go through magazines and find a picture of something that each boy loved that started with the letter "i". This homework, of course, supposes that the boys apparently already know how to spell if they are really to take part in this activity. So I had disregarded my homework in all honesty. Again, they're three. There won't be enough time for homework when they're actually in school? Like say, Kindergarden? Sheesh.





But the teachers didn't let me get away with it. They made a poster the size of the an entire wall in their classroom and posted everyone's "i" things, the names of those that didn't bring their homework sitting there blankly shouting to the world the parent's disregard for education. Tucker brought in the Incredibles--yeah, the movie. Someone else brought in a picture of "ice cream." So later I decide to double my efforts and both pick up the playroom and scrounge for something that begins with the letter "i".





Fireman


Firetruck


Frog





They decided to start this insanity with the letter "i"?! I had nothing. Wait. Do they EACH have to come up with an "i" thing? Do I have to find TWO "i" things?!





Fish


Food


Finger puppets





And the word "icky" wouldn't leave my head, and I couldn't even attempt to make that a creative answer to our homework problem since they say "gucky" instead of "icky." Argh.





Fighting


Fables


Feet





Why can I only see "F" words?! Mike and Ike!! They love Mike and Ike! We can make that work! We'll take Mike and Ikes in little packages to everyone for a treat, and I'll print out a picture too. It kind of starts with an "i". And then I remembered that we love Mike and Ike so much that we buy them in bulk, and you can't bring home-packaged/home-made treats to daycare in the current world. Scratch my feeble attempt to turn a failing grade into a special treat and trump everyone else's lame homework answers.





Meanwhile, the children have taken the chairs from their little table and tried to drag them upstairs, used them to get to things out-of-reach on the counter, turned them into guns (yes guns), and started stacking them on the table to make a tower. Good, they're occupied.





Fingernails


Flowers


Forget it





Then I look over and see an ENTIRE bin in the playroom of Ironmen--little ones, big ones, guns, shields, helmets. I remember they have t-shirts; they have a poster on their wall; they have Ironman on the DVR; they have movies--cartoon and real. Gah. Five minutes later I have printed out two pictures of Ironman and called it good.

Good grief.

My Pride Runneth Over

The boys ran at us with suckers in hand at pick-up two nights ago, "I got a treat!"

"The boys are THE BEST hands down," Charity smiles big.

"Really? What are you the best at boys?"

"Watching tv."

And it is then explained to me that for Dr. Seuss week the kids have been allowed to watch classic Dr. Seuss movies in the afternoons. My children (I'm so proud I have a bit of a tear in my eye) have been proclaimed the best tv watchers in any of the two-year-old classes. While the other children quickly loose interest and wander off to, I don't know, play, use the potty, learn, imagine, mine will sit transfixed, like statues.

My pride runneth over.

And then we went home, went upstairs to play, and Nicholas took two electronic learning boards and stacked them open like a laptop, proclaiming they were a tv. He turned out the light, much to the girls dismay, and he sat and watched his homemade tv on and off for the rest of the evening.

The New Obsession

Our hair. Our little bits of hair.

We were told when we picked up the girls the other day that they had had their hair in a "ponytail" all day and loved it. Ah Charity, you have started a trend.

Now they are obsessed with getting their hair done.

No matter how little they have to put up in that stylish fashion.

The Scene This Morning

The Conversation:

"It's Christmas?"

"No. It snowed."

"Santa Claus is coming?"

"No. It just snowed."

"No. It's Christmas. Santa is coming."

And so came the ice storm of 2009 that really wasn't, but they did manage to close down the city schools after the buses had picked up and took off with some of the kids. County schools weren't much sooner than that. Daycare however, as open as it could be.

Home Again

Well hello again. Kick your shoes off and stay awhile. Maybe take that uniform off for a few minutes some time too.

Daycare haircuts. Not terrible. I guess.


It'll grow back. It'll grow back. It'll grow back.
Maybe the front not as fast as the back please since balance of cut is apparently not a high priority.

(My instructions: take off an inch, keep the cut the same. Look at the last post.)

Thank you grandma Gayle for the fire trucks and cartoons, which these boys are glued to with their daddy. The hats are hidden for a time.

Some Random Thoughts

When you came home in this shirt yesterday and it was a disaster, I imagined that you must have had a wonderfully messy day and was glad.

We're so sorry that we got you sick.

Did we have the children too close together when the littlest ones can pass wearing the older one's clothing?

I know your hair is too long. I can't get my head around how to get you in for a cut. Never fear. The daycare has a salon, and they are going to hook you up next Tuesday buddy.

I think it is cute that you insist on the pink cup; that you put your baby to bed; and, that you insisted on wearing the girl's bathing suit. When you are 16, you will likely not think it is so cute that I documented it.

Gracie will likely not get to wear this outfit because she weighs a pound less than you Alida. She has nearly reached Elaine.

Ringworm Elaine. I am now putting jock-itch cream on your arm. So sorry.

If the girls wear the boys' Halloween costumes the next year, will it be like I always got them for half price? How long will I be able to tell you what to wear?

Sick Day

Daycare called at 9:30 this morning. Darling Alida had a fever...

This is Alida today

at noon.

Things Too Miserable To Grab The Camera During and A Confession

Sunday morning I loaded up the children and headed to church. Not only do I believe it is important to take them to church, but I also believe it is important to take me to church. And I cannot say that the two hours of quiet time I was headed toward didn't cement the decision to go it alone.

The road we head down to get to church looks like this. Only it is a bit more curvy. Thankfully when Elaine got car sick there was a different church right off the road to pull into (we do live in the South and there are more than a few churches to choose from.) I cleaned up the girl best I could, changed her into a clean outfit (a beautiful green hand-me-down onsie from her brother that looked perfect with her pink-bowed shoes), and I promised if it happened again we would go home.


It didn't happen again. I assumed car sick. And we went to church. The girls screamed their fool heads off in the nursery, but by the time I came back everyone was smiling and laughing. "The girls had a wonderful morning!" Car sick was cemented in my brain at that moment.



Sunday evening after naps and Popsicles, Alida pukes in the laundry room. Good girl! Such a smart girl to puke right next to the washing machine, on tile floor and you didn't grab at it! Good girl.



Denial Number 2: You must have gotten too hot outside.



Brilliant Idea Number One: Let's go have dinner.



Alida pukes in her high chair. While still over the tile floor, it was all over her and in her tray. That's right, perfect for playing in. And she starts laughing. We spent the evening waiting for more. None.



Brilliant Idea Number Two: Let's have a bottle and go to bed.



Elaine knocks out. Alida pukes. The boys are at least watching a movie. Put Alida on the floor, she passes out in her blanket. Change sheets; change girl. Back to bed.



And all is well. Monday morning breaks. There are smiles. There are no fevers. There is no puking in the land.



Until 3:45 in the afternoon when daycare calls:



"Mrs. Stuber. I'm calling because of Benjamin.



(In my head: thank goodness it wasn't Alida; I've been waiting for that call all day long. He probably broke his arm or something, no big deal.)



He just threw up all over the playground."



Oh. Bother.



Take Ben home to puke again. Nicholas gets mad at all the attention that Ben is getting, and he pukes now too. Although that little man walked right over to the bucket and aimed well. Thank you son. The boys now get all the attention, and the girls are shuttled upstairs to play in the playroom safety zone on their own while we clean up.



Baths all around. Third load of laundry started. Clorox out. Dishwasher started. Everyone in bed.



(Man, I just want to open the mail because there is a box there from the Duke's mom that I really, really want to see.)



Over the racket of every machine in my house chugging along cleaning everything I could fit in a machine, I missed hearing the ruckus upstairs. However, I made it up to check at least before opening that box and found that Nicholas had made the bucket--and the bed and his clothes and the floor. We go out to get new clothes.



"New, new, new clothes mommy?"

"Yes, son."

"Yeah!"



Who are these people that are happy after they puke?



All are cleaned and tucked in bed with new, new, new sheets, blankets and pillows, and I finish cloroxing the entire house and pass out in the extra bedroom that is close to their room, and that box is still sitting there calling to me right now.



Daycare rule: no temp, no problem. As long as they aren't puking. This morning, no one was puking, all were happy, and there were no fevers. We've made it to 11:30 now. We'll see what the rest of the day holds for us.

Confession: I kind of like it when they are sick. They're really sweet and snuggly.

Stuberstuff

Saturday Uncle Brian and Aunt Lori stopped into Memphis to buy a car, have dinner, chat a little and be on their way early the next morning. It was a busy weekend and we barely had time to take out the camera.

Saturday night Nicholas threw a fever and wasn't feeling his usual charming self early Sunday when it was time to say goodbye.

And then the visit was over, and we were left with a day of chaos. Not really interesting chaos. Just general mayhem. This week Patric and I are taking some time off work and crossing our fingers that everyone stays well so that we can enjoy our house in a little quiet for the first time in over a year--at least during the day. All was well Monday morning and the cherubs were off to daycare, and we spent an uninterrupted two hours at Target laughing at all the crying babies that were not ours.

Couldn't Tell You

What the splotch is on his head, but it looks like it hurt. Dad thinks it happened at home this week, but he wasn't sure what happened. It's been a crazy week so far, and we're looking forward to the weekend and catching our breath and seeing Uncle Brian and Aunt Lori.

Monday: Take girls to daycare in the morning, rip heart out of chest and leave it with them to fight over. Run home, take boys to the dentist with their dad (Nicholas was excellent; Benjamin not so cooperative.) Jump in the car, get some food and head for the airport. I take off for Orlando. Dad spends the rest of the day with the boys and picks up the girls that evening. And BIG star to dad. After the dentist eyed the tell-tale signs of a pacifier addiction and told us we really should be getting rid of them, dad just took them away and has dealt with that conversation all week.

"Gaggee?"

"They're bad for your teeth son."

"Gaggee bad for teeth."

"That's Right!"

"Okay." sniffle

Tuesday: Dad is on parent duty; I'm learning about export duty in Florida.

Wednesday: I'm home in the evening to our first high daycare temperature, some happy boys and lots of chaos.

Today: Alida is home with dad beating the fever. I took the others to daycare. Elaine has made a big stride forward. She did not cry at all as we entered her room and was quiet, yet skeptical, as we greeted the morning staff. She didn't cry during the hand off and only went crazy once she had been transferred. That is better, and we hope it continues in that direction. Not sure how Elaine managed to get away without a spiked fever, so we're waiting by our phones today for a call.

That might get in the way of our plans for a kid free week at home together next week while we both take some vacation time. Oh how vacations have changed.

Daycare

Last Friday we began daycare yet again in the Stuber house. The kids have been fortunate enough to stay home with Jenny this past first year, and it is a little heart-wrenching as we transition to the new daytime routine.

Friday morning we were out the door about five minutes after they woke up because the boys were running around screaming to go to school from the moment they got up. So we essentially got dressed, brushed teeth and took off. We were able to both be there for drop off number one, which was a good thing because I may have just sat down and stayed with the girls all day if Patric had not been there to guide me out the door. They hate it, and they cry, and it kills me. But then we drop the boys off at their room, and they barely wave good-bye as they take off for all things new and shiny. And their confidence makes me proud and gives me confidence in turn that the ladies will be served well by this experience. I look forward to the day they confidently barrel ahead for new adventures. Right now, it's heart wrenching.

Day one pick up was an opposite experience. The ladies were playing quietly when we peeked in the door. And when they saw us their little smiles lit up the room and they came straight for us knocking everything else out of the way. And that is a pretty fabulous feeling. The boys, on the other hand, were a bit more difficult. We were pretty encouraged when they saw us out the gymnastics room window and started waving and smiling. Their teacher gave them their day sheets, and they came running to hand us their reports. Then. Then they ran straight back for the gymnastics room. They ran in the other direction really, anywhere but into our arms where they correctly sensed we were going to snatch them away from this place. And they were drug crying and fighting the whole way.

So on the way in we leave upset one-year-olds and on the way out we are dragging upset two-year-olds. And we look a wreck coming and going. And as with most things, we guess it will even out in time. Right now, we are a drama.

Daycare Photo Shoot

I can't believe that we have missed sharing these with you for so long! So precious... But don't even think of trying to illegally print those out to hang on your wall.

Happy Easter A Few Days Later

That right there kicked-off the Easter weekend at the daycare party. Once we got through that we drove a whole bunch, got a cold, slept in pack-n-plays, refused to sleep in pack-n-plays, took a horrible, frightening bath in a whirlpool tub, and mom and dad didn't even take the camera out of the bag until we got home again. They did take the video camera out once and discovered that both batteries were dead. Oh, and it was COLD!We did get to see grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles. We ate candy and ham, went to church, played with new toys, met the Farthing brothers, and took a nap in mom's lap.
Behold. The empty suitcases, home at last. Mom and dad said we're not taking another vacation until a majority of the Stubers are potty trained.

Table Manners

As part of our transition to the toddler room, we began having lunch with the other kids yesterday. This is all good because I don't think we'll be getting much good training from mom and dad in this area. Ms. Deborah said we sat really well at the little table, and we even used our little forks and drank from our sippy cups. When we were done, we also stole food from our neighbors. These tiny portions aren't going to cut it. Grandpa understands. Nicholas is on day five of soy milk without any break-outs. We also had French Toast and sausage for dinner last night. Mom says that's about as close to scrambled eggs and toast as you can come (especially the way daddy makes it), so we're thinking Nicholas will get to have a birthday cake made with eggs and milk after all.