I spent a lot of time in the church nursery this weekend. We had an event on Sat night and I undertook the little ones. A 7 year old who was much cooler than me (in a puff vest and trendy jeans, no less) taught me how to throw the football from under my leg and I then attempted to throw it from behind my back while spinning around. This didn't work out too well for me.
A 4 year old spent 30 minutes telling me stories about his life and family. This, I found quite entertaining...for the first 10 minutes. The real problem was that I was sitting on the floor against the wall and he was towering over me. He was an unbelievably close talker and unfortunately still has a lisp. My attempts to use my legs as a buffer between us didn't work out...he would just sit on them. Thus, I was sprayed quite thoroughly for the entire conversation. Laura's thought for 30 minutes: "Swine flu! I really hope this kid doesn't have Swine Flu."
On Sunday mornings our once a month rotation has been moved from the Acorns to the Sprouts. The fact that these children can talk takes our assignment to a whole new level. We have to teach a lesson. David attempted to have them memorize a passage...which was not wholly successful. When we were coloring, we had to specifically direct them not to stick the crayons up other people's noses.
They are potty training. Their parents look at us as if it should be simple to take them to the restroom every 30 minutes as they instruct it across the barn door. Then their parents leave and David and I just look at one another. What do they mean? Do we just say, "Alright buddy, see you in a few minutes. The bathroom's over there." When they say they need "help" what on earth does that mean? Needless to say, the Dawkins classroom had little success in this area.
And we have an aggressor.
If ever I hear shrieks of unrest, I need only look in the direction of one little 2 year old. He is a very cute little 2 year old. He is a very smart little 2 year old. He is still working on his interpersonal skills though.
When hit in the face by another child with a toy and upon finding that a ball was simultaneously snatched from his hand, he burst forth in a rage previously unknown to me. As our calming skills with 2 year olds have yet to be refined, we didn't have much success. Finally, in despair over this injustice, the little guy bolted screaming to the nursery door where the nursery coordinator caught him before he ran shrieking into the sanctuary. Thankfully, David and I are taking all the parenting classes available before the arrival of the little one in May. We need it.
And in case this post isn't random enough for you....Saturday a preying mantis parked outside our door. For some reason in Africa I became convinced that preying mantis are aggressive attackers and that their little pinchers open wide enough to take your entire face into their clutches. David assured me this is not true. Nonetheless, I was glad when mantis moved on from his station.