It has been way too long since I've posted anything here. I was pretty overwhelmed with starting my graduate programs, and have been constantly overwhelmed since. It's a great program (MSW at UPenn), but it's a lot. One of the reasons I love it so much is that from day one, students are placed in the field three full days a week. I have always been more of a hands-on learner, and I think this aspect of the program really makes it stand out from others. I have wonderful, brilliant professors who make the two days I am in the classroom an enjoyable experience. My favorite professor, who taught "Foundations for Social Work Practice"--our only year-long course which revolved around our field placements, died tragically in a bike accident in the middle of the semester. In the short time I knew him, I learned so much, and actually remembered what I learned weeks later. He made me excited to get up on Wednesday mornings and show up in our window-less classroom at 9am. Every class was like a comedy routine, filled with personal anecdotes about social work practice, from his 30 or so years as a private practitioner. His energy and enthusiasm for the field filled up the room, made people smile, and often made me crack up. Another gift he had was making people feel unique and special. He remembered everyone by name, and when he visited our field placements, he raved about us to our supervisors, telling them how lucky they were to have us. One could argue that anyone could talk up a student, but he would actually quote things we had said in class, or bring up a small part of our histories we had shared the first day during introductions. I often remember little things he said, or advice he gave about social work practice. This week, a classmate started an email that has been circulating with different "Joe-isms" people wrote down in their notes from class. I leave you with them:
"Social workers have to know how to do good phone"
"Get to know the receptionist and support staff at any agency. they are the Main Grape on the gossip vine."
When you're on a home visit, never sit down in the kitchen." --this was never explained
(Comparing the medical model) "you came to see me, there's something wrong with you" (with the 'Social Work jargon model') "oh no, everything's beautiful, we'll be friends!"
(On referring to George W. Bush talking about "terrorists) *They hate us because of our freedom. No, they hate us because we've been bombing their asses for the past 30 years.
"Less said, best said sometimes."
"He who laughs, lasts." -Mary Poole
"Wherever you are, be there." -Ghandi
"When you find your place, practice begins." -Dogen
(On clinical practice) "There isn't a damn thing we do in social work that doesn't require clinical practice."
(On something a text book author said about assessment) "Social workers can also obtain records from other sources... yeah good luck getting that."
"We’re social workers, we’re not Republicans"
"If you ever want to understand how the world works, go outside and look at the Wharton Business School building. Then look at Castor. Look at Wharton. Look at Castor. You’ll get it"
"If you’re going into Social Work, you’re already a yenta."
"Don’t have sex with your clients. EVER."
"Social workers are historically the dowdiest dressers in an office."
"Don’t use your clients’ real names when you talk about them. Whenever I accidentally do that, I cover it up by saying, 'But of course that’s not their real name.' Works every time. Well, it did."
(On contracting) "Successful contracting helps the client want what they need."
(On making sure the client understand the contract) "Do it early, do it clearly."
(On strengths perspective) "There is tremendous power in the spoken word. What we say and how we say it matters."
(On beginnings / building a relationship with clients) "Clients don't come to you because they need a friend."
(On middles) "Like walking in mud."
(On endings) "You are always going to be dealing with endings."
Monday, December 13, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Moving forward, Looking back
Today is my lst official day as a full-time nanny. It has been 10 months since I started this job with these three families, and what a ride it has been. It has been much more challenging than I ever thought it would be, but it has also been so much more rewarding that I could have ever expected.
The three families I worked for were all extremely different in terms of parenting styles, foods eaten, schedules, styles of discipline, and common activities for the kids. This was a major challenge in itself, because I was constantly adjusting to going back and forth betwee each one as each day and week passed. Even something as simple as what each kid called going to the bathroom, be it "going to the potty, making a fountain, or using the bathroom" was hard for me to keep track of and consistent for each indidividual at times. During my ten months, all three, three- year-old, boys were successfully potty trained. They all took different routes, and there were times, I admit, that I never thought they'd learn how to pull up their pants, much less actually use the toilet. I never could have imagined the satisfaction and feeling of success that a potty trained kid can bring, until I experience this with them and with their parents.
I often thought of these three boys, the three-year-olds, in terms of how they filled something up. I mean this in the most literal sense, of filling up a bucket with sand, or a glass with water. C, who is extremely smart and overly cautious, would fill something up about a half inch below the top of whatever he was pouring into. K, who is pretty well rounded and easy going, would fill it up pretty much exactly to the line. L, who is a wild child and likes to screech and laugh most of the time, would just keep pouring the sand or water into the bucket until there was nothing left in the original container, no matter how much it overflowed. These simple observations say so much about their personalities and temperments, and give me a little bit of a sense of what they will be like when they're older.
The younger siblings of these three boys really came a long way in the ten months as well. When I started working, T (K's little brother) was only 5 months old. He couldn't sit up yet, and taking care of him pretty much consisted of bottle feedings and diaper changing, and putting him in a bouncy seat. Now he is 15 months old, and went from sitting up to crawling to walking, to running in that short time. He now has such a strong, bubbly personality and loves to joke and laugh.
A (L's little brother) was just shy of 15 months old when I started, and wasn't walking yet. He started at about 18 months old, and is now running all over the place, like any almost two-year-old. He also started talking over the past ten months and now has a very large vocabulary. He recently started saying my name, which comes out as "Sah", but is unmistakeable. A loves to climb things and horse around. He does well at keeping up with his big brother, who I think likes him a lot better now that they can play together.
Baby A (C's little sister) was not even born yet when I started working for her family. She was born in January, a couple weeks later than expected. She just turned 6 months old, and despite a lot of health problems related to her digestive system, is one of the happiest babies I've ever met. She smiles and shrieks and giggles, pretty much all the time. She went from being a tiny little floppy baby, to a big round chubby, jolly little girl. It amazes me that when I first met her family, she wasn't even out in the world yet.
I could go on and on about the wonders of watching these kids grow over the past year. I sometimes think about how I could create a whole resume based on the last ten months that includes skills such as being an expert wooden railroad track builder, making up dozens of stories on the spot, drawing all sorts of things by request (even when I'm not quite sure what they are), getting kids to eat things they've never tried, successful potty training, and best of all:finding patience and energy when I feel like there is nothing left in me.
I am so grateful to these six children and their families for what they have given me this year. I plan to keep in touch with them and continue watching them occasionally while I am in grad school next year. I sure will miss their happy little faces running to the door when I walk in. I wonder if there is any better way to start work than that.
The three families I worked for were all extremely different in terms of parenting styles, foods eaten, schedules, styles of discipline, and common activities for the kids. This was a major challenge in itself, because I was constantly adjusting to going back and forth betwee each one as each day and week passed. Even something as simple as what each kid called going to the bathroom, be it "going to the potty, making a fountain, or using the bathroom" was hard for me to keep track of and consistent for each indidividual at times. During my ten months, all three, three- year-old, boys were successfully potty trained. They all took different routes, and there were times, I admit, that I never thought they'd learn how to pull up their pants, much less actually use the toilet. I never could have imagined the satisfaction and feeling of success that a potty trained kid can bring, until I experience this with them and with their parents.
I often thought of these three boys, the three-year-olds, in terms of how they filled something up. I mean this in the most literal sense, of filling up a bucket with sand, or a glass with water. C, who is extremely smart and overly cautious, would fill something up about a half inch below the top of whatever he was pouring into. K, who is pretty well rounded and easy going, would fill it up pretty much exactly to the line. L, who is a wild child and likes to screech and laugh most of the time, would just keep pouring the sand or water into the bucket until there was nothing left in the original container, no matter how much it overflowed. These simple observations say so much about their personalities and temperments, and give me a little bit of a sense of what they will be like when they're older.
The younger siblings of these three boys really came a long way in the ten months as well. When I started working, T (K's little brother) was only 5 months old. He couldn't sit up yet, and taking care of him pretty much consisted of bottle feedings and diaper changing, and putting him in a bouncy seat. Now he is 15 months old, and went from sitting up to crawling to walking, to running in that short time. He now has such a strong, bubbly personality and loves to joke and laugh.
A (L's little brother) was just shy of 15 months old when I started, and wasn't walking yet. He started at about 18 months old, and is now running all over the place, like any almost two-year-old. He also started talking over the past ten months and now has a very large vocabulary. He recently started saying my name, which comes out as "Sah", but is unmistakeable. A loves to climb things and horse around. He does well at keeping up with his big brother, who I think likes him a lot better now that they can play together.
Baby A (C's little sister) was not even born yet when I started working for her family. She was born in January, a couple weeks later than expected. She just turned 6 months old, and despite a lot of health problems related to her digestive system, is one of the happiest babies I've ever met. She smiles and shrieks and giggles, pretty much all the time. She went from being a tiny little floppy baby, to a big round chubby, jolly little girl. It amazes me that when I first met her family, she wasn't even out in the world yet.
I could go on and on about the wonders of watching these kids grow over the past year. I sometimes think about how I could create a whole resume based on the last ten months that includes skills such as being an expert wooden railroad track builder, making up dozens of stories on the spot, drawing all sorts of things by request (even when I'm not quite sure what they are), getting kids to eat things they've never tried, successful potty training, and best of all:finding patience and energy when I feel like there is nothing left in me.
I am so grateful to these six children and their families for what they have given me this year. I plan to keep in touch with them and continue watching them occasionally while I am in grad school next year. I sure will miss their happy little faces running to the door when I walk in. I wonder if there is any better way to start work than that.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Unintentional Eavesdropping
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While I am taking care of small children, I tend to hear a lot of things that either I feel like I shouldn't hear, or that really just shock me. Unfortunately, when these things are overheard, I am usually only in the company of one or two children, who are totally oblivious to it, and would probably still be if I explained the whole scenario.
Yesterday, for example, I was sitting in my usual spot on the little platform below the fish tank in the "Inside Out" kids room at the Academy Of Natural Sciences. C was doing what he always does, making sand piles and "roads" in the big sandbox they have there. I was sifting through my head for interesting things to think about, or interesting people to text, to get me through the inevitable hour of watching C play with the sand (he never really wants anyone to play with him). Then a man walks in, who could be classified as a "crazy person". He's kind of hunched over and wearing HUGE thick black rimmed glasses...and he's the only person who is above the age of 5 who isn't chaperoning someone under the age of 5. You might think that the outrageous thing I overheard came from him. But wait. The man starts talking to one of the young volunteers there, who seemed to be about thirteen years old. He asks if he can see some creature called "Whip". As I watch this girl take down the little plastic terrarium that "Whip" lives in, I start wondering what "Whip" is. I figured it was a lizard, until the girl reaches in and starts beckoning to a terrifying looking insect with eight long legs and a HUGE abdomen that looks like a bird's egg. My skin was crawling. Apparently, so was the "crazy" man's because he made a comment expressing so. Then the girl says "Aww, don't worry, he's really a sweetie once you get to know him". About a creepy scorpion! Within 5 minutes, she also called the giant Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches "sweeties" too. Yuck.
The next one happened when I was at the playground with K and T. We were sitting in one corner of the playground, when the local daycare brought all their kids over to play. My favorite part of this (aside from all the cute stumbling babies) is the daycare workers, who just fascinate me with their conversation. The other day one of the women was going inside the rec center to get drinks for she and her co-worker. They were scrounging up change when they suddenly stopped, fascinated by one of the coins. The following is the dialogue I heard:
One woman: "Wow! Look at this quarter!"
Other woman: "What is that on it?"
Both women simultaneously: "Eee...Eee Pluriboos...Eee Pluriboos Ewnum"
One woman: "What are we celebrating the Spanish now? These new quarters are crazy!"
I just stood there, probably with my mouth hanging open, staring at these women in disbelief, searching around me desperately for someone who had heard this and was as shocked as I was. But all I saw were little, smiling, stumbling babies running around and screeching. Ignorance is bliss.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Innocent Ones
Although I prefer it to sitting in an office all day, spending fifty hours a week with six kids ages 3 and under, and occasionally their parents is not always easy. As I have stated in earlier posts, three year olds are especially difficult to relate to. They are easily frustrated and at times seem bipolar in how fast their moods change from one extreme to another.
Sometimes I look at these kids though--these kids I have gotten to know so well. I look at their little bodies and I want to freeze them in time. I want to keep them where they are: where the most emotional pain they feel is when their brother takes the ball they were using, or when they can't have the snack they want. They all have their families intact--mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters are alive and healthy. They aren't having identity issues, they aren't worried about their hair or their weight and hey aren't having their hearts broken by people they love. Their little worlds are nearly perfect, and they are completely unaware of anything happening outside of their homes.
I know that they can't go through life avoiding all pain or hardship. They'll have to face scarier things than the darkness of their room at night and more tragic things than the tower they built falling down. I just wish there was some way I could tell them to appreciate this time. Or a way I could prevent them from having to deal with anything that would hurt them. I guess that is life though, and that's how we become the people we are. For now, I will enjoy that innocence for them. I hope that some day, at least one of them will have a reflective experience similar to mine, that allows them to experience this gratitude I feel knowing that I too had that time of innocence.
Sometimes I look at these kids though--these kids I have gotten to know so well. I look at their little bodies and I want to freeze them in time. I want to keep them where they are: where the most emotional pain they feel is when their brother takes the ball they were using, or when they can't have the snack they want. They all have their families intact--mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters are alive and healthy. They aren't having identity issues, they aren't worried about their hair or their weight and hey aren't having their hearts broken by people they love. Their little worlds are nearly perfect, and they are completely unaware of anything happening outside of their homes.
I know that they can't go through life avoiding all pain or hardship. They'll have to face scarier things than the darkness of their room at night and more tragic things than the tower they built falling down. I just wish there was some way I could tell them to appreciate this time. Or a way I could prevent them from having to deal with anything that would hurt them. I guess that is life though, and that's how we become the people we are. For now, I will enjoy that innocence for them. I hope that some day, at least one of them will have a reflective experience similar to mine, that allows them to experience this gratitude I feel knowing that I too had that time of innocence.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
breakthroughs
I have made a couple breakthroughs with the kids I spend every day with in the past couple of weeks. As I have said before, L, and I don't always see eye to eye on everything. We butt heads a lot, and don't always "get along", one could say. His younger brother, A, is always wanting to snuggle with me, but L usually keeps his distance. The other day though, when he woke up from his nap, he walked over to me and held up his arms for me to pick him up. When I did he put his head on my shoulder, tucked his arms under mine, and just laid there for a while. It was so sweet. Then he started grinding his teeth and I had to put him down. None the less, I considered it a breakthrough.
C, who is another very challenging 3 year old, very seldom laughs. The only time I've really seen him laugh is when he knows he's doing something "naughty" in his words, and is laughing to make sure I am aware that he's doing something wrong. There are things I do with C, that I don't do with some of the other kids, because without other siblings/kids around that are within his age range, he is seldom told "no" and doesn't ever have to share things. Examples of this are not letting him draw on my page when we are coloring, or not letting him use a block I have for a period of time until I'm done...even though I don't really care that much about my crayon picture or tower I'm building. I figure this teaches him that he needs to respect peoples' space and that he doesn't have authoritative power over everything he sees. Maybe it just makes me feel better. Anyway, I was having a difficult day with C, where he was bossing me around, telling me to pick something up after he dropped it, etc, etc. We went outside to play soccer, and since I was feeling slightly annoyed with him, when he went to pick his soccer ball up I moved it a little to the left with my foot. I wondered what his reaction would be, and to my great surprise he laughed! I did it again and he laughed even more! C thought this was the funniest thing he'd ever seen! We actually had a lot of fun together for the next half hour or so, playing this game of keep away (of course I let him get it every 3rd or 4th time). I can't say that there have been many times I've had fun wtih C, so I think this definitely qualifies as another breakthrough.
On another note, I was just watching A play with his dog, who he loves and is driven crazy by in almost equal parts. His head is right at the level of the dog's head, so he is often being followed by her with her tongue on his face, licking of remnants of lunch, or in some cases, snot. Today though, he was actually standing face to face with her, opening his mouth and letting her lick inside it for as long as he could stand before he cracked up, presumably because it tickled so much. It was hilarious and disgusting. Hilariously disgusting.
C, who is another very challenging 3 year old, very seldom laughs. The only time I've really seen him laugh is when he knows he's doing something "naughty" in his words, and is laughing to make sure I am aware that he's doing something wrong. There are things I do with C, that I don't do with some of the other kids, because without other siblings/kids around that are within his age range, he is seldom told "no" and doesn't ever have to share things. Examples of this are not letting him draw on my page when we are coloring, or not letting him use a block I have for a period of time until I'm done...even though I don't really care that much about my crayon picture or tower I'm building. I figure this teaches him that he needs to respect peoples' space and that he doesn't have authoritative power over everything he sees. Maybe it just makes me feel better. Anyway, I was having a difficult day with C, where he was bossing me around, telling me to pick something up after he dropped it, etc, etc. We went outside to play soccer, and since I was feeling slightly annoyed with him, when he went to pick his soccer ball up I moved it a little to the left with my foot. I wondered what his reaction would be, and to my great surprise he laughed! I did it again and he laughed even more! C thought this was the funniest thing he'd ever seen! We actually had a lot of fun together for the next half hour or so, playing this game of keep away (of course I let him get it every 3rd or 4th time). I can't say that there have been many times I've had fun wtih C, so I think this definitely qualifies as another breakthrough.
On another note, I was just watching A play with his dog, who he loves and is driven crazy by in almost equal parts. His head is right at the level of the dog's head, so he is often being followed by her with her tongue on his face, licking of remnants of lunch, or in some cases, snot. Today though, he was actually standing face to face with her, opening his mouth and letting her lick inside it for as long as he could stand before he cracked up, presumably because it tickled so much. It was hilarious and disgusting. Hilariously disgusting.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Melt Down
For some reason I was dreading the start of this week with C, and my psychic capabilities must have been on key because today C had meltdowns about EVERYTHING. The day started off normally, with him being happy I had come, and then showing me everything in the apartment he is not supposed to touch.
The first tantrum was about wanting a circle to be a square. He kept asking me to make his train tracks loop back a certain way to connect to the ones we had already built. When I started using the curved pieces to do this, he started ripping them out and screaming/crying/drooling--generally freaking out. I asked him what was wrong and he said he wanted it to be a square. I told him that if he wanted it to loop back, it had to be a circle, that a square wasn't going to work in the space we had. Tantrums ensued for the next twenty minutes.
The next tantrum he had was about wanting a white crayon to write on white paper. It was the only crayon, out of the 24 possible, that he wanted to use. And he wanted it to write on the white paper. Another 10 minute of crying.
The final (major) tantrum in the four hours I was with C this morning, was when we were halfway to the Franklin Institute, which is about a half mile from his house, and he decided he wanted to wear a different coat. He cried almost the entire way to the museum, because he wanted to change coats. Luckily, as I have said in a previous post, when he cries, he generally walks faster. I've become pretty good at blocking out the noise, though I still notice the stares I get as people walk by.
C had one more tantrum about wanting to go into his apartment building via another door, but it didn't last very long. He was probably just too exhausted from the all the "tantrumming" he had done earlier.
What a morning.
The first tantrum was about wanting a circle to be a square. He kept asking me to make his train tracks loop back a certain way to connect to the ones we had already built. When I started using the curved pieces to do this, he started ripping them out and screaming/crying/drooling--generally freaking out. I asked him what was wrong and he said he wanted it to be a square. I told him that if he wanted it to loop back, it had to be a circle, that a square wasn't going to work in the space we had. Tantrums ensued for the next twenty minutes.
The next tantrum he had was about wanting a white crayon to write on white paper. It was the only crayon, out of the 24 possible, that he wanted to use. And he wanted it to write on the white paper. Another 10 minute of crying.
The final (major) tantrum in the four hours I was with C this morning, was when we were halfway to the Franklin Institute, which is about a half mile from his house, and he decided he wanted to wear a different coat. He cried almost the entire way to the museum, because he wanted to change coats. Luckily, as I have said in a previous post, when he cries, he generally walks faster. I've become pretty good at blocking out the noise, though I still notice the stares I get as people walk by.
C had one more tantrum about wanting to go into his apartment building via another door, but it didn't last very long. He was probably just too exhausted from the all the "tantrumming" he had done earlier.
What a morning.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
I Want to Hold Your Hand
I wish my day had been filled with this lovely Beatles song instead of the following meltdowns. When I say meltdowns, I mean the serious kind, that last much longer than you expect--so long the kids usually don't remember what they're crying about anymore, and produce huge tears, and lots of snot.
This morning, C and I were going to go to the library. He seemed perfectly excited about it, and we have gone many times together. His mom walked out the door with us because she was going to the grocery store, and a few steps after she parted ways with us, C started screaming and crying that he wanted to hold his mom's hand. I told him we just had to walk two blocks to the library and drop off some books, and get new ones, and then we could go back to the house and hold mommy's hand. He continued to scream all the way to the library, two city blocks, and then for about 10 minutes outside of the library because I told him we couldn't go in until he could stop crying. The interesting part was, the whole time we were walking, he was keeping up with me, which is usually not the case. I guess because he was so upset he didn't have time to be distracted by other things on our walk, and it was actually pretty nice for me (despite the screaming I had to listen to).
This afternoon I was watching L and A, and L wanted to go outside. It's been kind of rainy and cold all day, so I didn't really want to stand outside while they played, but I told him we could go out for a little bit with the hopes it would tire him out and he'd take a long nap. L wanted to get in his little plastic car, and wanted his brother to as well, but A wasn't interested. This is when the meltdown began. Then, finally, A got in his little car (maybe he's conditioned to do what L wants so that he doesn't have to listen to screaming) and then L continued to scream, saying he wanted to hold A's hand. I told L he could ride his car over to A and hold his hand, but he just started screaming louder and crying. I asked him what was wrong, and to use his words, and he just kept saying he wanted to hold A's hand and reaching his hand out of the car, but not moving the car with his feet. Finally, I told L we had to go inside if he couldn't use his words and be nice, to which he of course screamed at me more and refused to go in. I took A inside and watched L from the window, sitting in the driveway screaming and crying. Every time I opened the door to ask if he wanted to come in with us, he just screamed at me at the top of his lungs. Finally I brought him inside where he cried on the floor until I brought him to his room for a (much needed) nap.
In sum, I hope everyone is able to hold the hand of the person they'd like to today, and if not, then I wish them the strength to endure the time they are unable to.
This morning, C and I were going to go to the library. He seemed perfectly excited about it, and we have gone many times together. His mom walked out the door with us because she was going to the grocery store, and a few steps after she parted ways with us, C started screaming and crying that he wanted to hold his mom's hand. I told him we just had to walk two blocks to the library and drop off some books, and get new ones, and then we could go back to the house and hold mommy's hand. He continued to scream all the way to the library, two city blocks, and then for about 10 minutes outside of the library because I told him we couldn't go in until he could stop crying. The interesting part was, the whole time we were walking, he was keeping up with me, which is usually not the case. I guess because he was so upset he didn't have time to be distracted by other things on our walk, and it was actually pretty nice for me (despite the screaming I had to listen to).
This afternoon I was watching L and A, and L wanted to go outside. It's been kind of rainy and cold all day, so I didn't really want to stand outside while they played, but I told him we could go out for a little bit with the hopes it would tire him out and he'd take a long nap. L wanted to get in his little plastic car, and wanted his brother to as well, but A wasn't interested. This is when the meltdown began. Then, finally, A got in his little car (maybe he's conditioned to do what L wants so that he doesn't have to listen to screaming) and then L continued to scream, saying he wanted to hold A's hand. I told L he could ride his car over to A and hold his hand, but he just started screaming louder and crying. I asked him what was wrong, and to use his words, and he just kept saying he wanted to hold A's hand and reaching his hand out of the car, but not moving the car with his feet. Finally, I told L we had to go inside if he couldn't use his words and be nice, to which he of course screamed at me more and refused to go in. I took A inside and watched L from the window, sitting in the driveway screaming and crying. Every time I opened the door to ask if he wanted to come in with us, he just screamed at me at the top of his lungs. Finally I brought him inside where he cried on the floor until I brought him to his room for a (much needed) nap.
In sum, I hope everyone is able to hold the hand of the person they'd like to today, and if not, then I wish them the strength to endure the time they are unable to.
Crust
In my days with six kids ages 3 and under, I come across a lot of crust--in many forms. What I am referring to in this post though, is the crust on bread. Some kids don't like to eat it, which I have never understood. Is it because it is a different color? A different texture? On most of the white bread or soft wheat bread I've seen kids eat, the crust really doesn't feel much different than the rest of the bread. Anyway, some kids won't go near it, like L for example, who leaves about an inch of bread before he gets to the crust, which means he really doesn't get much of the sandwich, and is consequently always still hungry. I usually give L's crust (and inch of sandwich attached) to his little brother, who happily eats the whole thing.
C, on the other hand, eats his crust first. It's his favorite part. I've never seen a kid love the crust of bread so much, but for all his strange qualities, this is one I love about him.
I have found a solution to the avoidance of ultimate crust piece of bread, the heel, which even many adults I know refuse to eat. When I make the kids sandwiches, I turn the heel piece upside down, so that the white side is up. That way they don't know it's the heel, and there is the added bonus of being no crust on the other side, so they can eat the whole thing! Sarah 1, Crust 0.
C, on the other hand, eats his crust first. It's his favorite part. I've never seen a kid love the crust of bread so much, but for all his strange qualities, this is one I love about him.
I have found a solution to the avoidance of ultimate crust piece of bread, the heel, which even many adults I know refuse to eat. When I make the kids sandwiches, I turn the heel piece upside down, so that the white side is up. That way they don't know it's the heel, and there is the added bonus of being no crust on the other side, so they can eat the whole thing! Sarah 1, Crust 0.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Vomit Aversion
Yesterday I was babysitting L&A, and their mom had informed me that L had a fever all day, but seemed fine and didn't have any other symptoms. I got to their house and he seemed happy and talkative. After their mom left, he dressed himself in his boots, hat, winter jacket, and mittens and told me he wanted to go outside. I bundled up A, and took them out. A is just starting to walk consistently and was not a fan of the snow. When I put him in it, he stood in one place and just said "help" over and over again until I took him out. L, on the other hand, loved it. He rode his tricycle through it, played on his little playground, and when I told him it was time to go inside, he protested.
After snow-time, the kids both slept for about 2 hours. When they woke up and I went upstairs to get them, I got the baby first, and went into L's room. He still looked extremely tired, and his cheeks were very flushed, but I asked him if he wanted to go get a snack downstairs and he said yes. When he walked into the hallway, he started holding his throat and whimpering. Then he started gagging and making those gross croaky, gurgly noises you make when you're about to throw up. So I picked him up and ran into the bathroom and held him over the bathtub. I commended myself on being so brave, because I really truly hate vomit. I don't like the noises, I don't like the feeling, and I definitely don't like the smell. My aversion to vomit is so bad that if someone tells me they've been sick and they're on the phone with me in a completely different part of the country, I start to feel nauseous. It might be considered a disorder.
So, L continued to make the gross noises and was crying, so I was pretty positive he was going to throw up, but he never did. I set him down on the floor, with the upper half of his body still crouched over the bathtub. Only when I put him down did I realize that I was shaking, and that my body temperature had risen considerably. I was having an actual bodily reaction to the POSSIBILITY of this three year old throwing up. So, I may have commended myself a little too early--I truly am a wimp when it comes to vomit. How will I ever have children?
After snow-time, the kids both slept for about 2 hours. When they woke up and I went upstairs to get them, I got the baby first, and went into L's room. He still looked extremely tired, and his cheeks were very flushed, but I asked him if he wanted to go get a snack downstairs and he said yes. When he walked into the hallway, he started holding his throat and whimpering. Then he started gagging and making those gross croaky, gurgly noises you make when you're about to throw up. So I picked him up and ran into the bathroom and held him over the bathtub. I commended myself on being so brave, because I really truly hate vomit. I don't like the noises, I don't like the feeling, and I definitely don't like the smell. My aversion to vomit is so bad that if someone tells me they've been sick and they're on the phone with me in a completely different part of the country, I start to feel nauseous. It might be considered a disorder.
So, L continued to make the gross noises and was crying, so I was pretty positive he was going to throw up, but he never did. I set him down on the floor, with the upper half of his body still crouched over the bathtub. Only when I put him down did I realize that I was shaking, and that my body temperature had risen considerably. I was having an actual bodily reaction to the POSSIBILITY of this three year old throwing up. So, I may have commended myself a little too early--I truly am a wimp when it comes to vomit. How will I ever have children?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Life With Six Kids Ages Three and Under
Now that I've introduced the kids I spend 40-50 hours a week with, I think I will start writing about what it's like to hang out with them all day. I'm going to refer to them by the initial of their first name, so that their names aren't repeated over and over on the internet, in association with my name. For privacy's sake--as much as you can have when posting publicly on the internet.
I've decided that three year olds, or maybe three year old boys specifically, are just weird. Weird doesn't necessarily have to mean bad, but they are strange little beings. They are entering a stage in their life when they are no longer babies, especially if they have younger siblings. They are encouraged to do things for themselves more, much to their dismay. They are taught and encouraged to use the toilet instead of the more convenient (and much preferred, in my experience) method of just going in their pants. They are told that crying and screaming doesn't get them what they want, although only a year or so back, it did. In sum, being three (or 2 and a half) is not as easy as you might think.
Three year olds are also trying to communicate more and are always learning new words and phrases that they attempt to incorporate into daily conversation. This can be pretty funny at times. I was in K's room with him the other day and there was a photo on his bookshelf of a man who looked like his uncle. I asked him if that was his uncle in the picture and confirmed that it was. I said, "What is your uncle's name?" to which he replied, "I don't rightly know!" His response cracked me up, and made me wonder where he had picked up the speech of a middle aged British man.
I've decided that three year olds, or maybe three year old boys specifically, are just weird. Weird doesn't necessarily have to mean bad, but they are strange little beings. They are entering a stage in their life when they are no longer babies, especially if they have younger siblings. They are encouraged to do things for themselves more, much to their dismay. They are taught and encouraged to use the toilet instead of the more convenient (and much preferred, in my experience) method of just going in their pants. They are told that crying and screaming doesn't get them what they want, although only a year or so back, it did. In sum, being three (or 2 and a half) is not as easy as you might think.
Three year olds are also trying to communicate more and are always learning new words and phrases that they attempt to incorporate into daily conversation. This can be pretty funny at times. I was in K's room with him the other day and there was a photo on his bookshelf of a man who looked like his uncle. I asked him if that was his uncle in the picture and confirmed that it was. I said, "What is your uncle's name?" to which he replied, "I don't rightly know!" His response cracked me up, and made me wonder where he had picked up the speech of a middle aged British man.
Monday, January 18, 2010
My Boys
After much job searching, trying to find a "real job", I settled for the next best thing, which is really THE best thing in my mind--nannying. I spend my week, Monday through Friday (and occasional weekends) with kids from three different families. I want to introduce them.
Kailas. Named after the tallest mountain in the Himalayas "Kailash", commonly known as K2. Kailas will be 3 in March and is one of the most interesting kids I have ever come to know--in a good way. He's extremely smart and well spoken for his age. He's 99% fully potty trained, which I have also come to realize is rare. He loves learning words in other languages and has an incredible memory for words and people and events. When I read books, Kailas likes to point at the faces of characters and ask me what the face means-whether it's happy or sad or angry, etc. His favorite foods are cereal bars and hummus (not together). He's a sweet, generally well-behaved boy who is constantly searching for new things to learn.
Talin. I can't remember the origin of his name, but it has something to do with India or Hinduism. Talin is Kailas' little brother and the second son of a woman who is of Indian decent and wants to preserve that culture in her boys. Talin will be a year old in May, which makes him about 8 months old right now. In the time that I have been watching him, he has learned to sit up and to crawl. He is a very mellow baby, and rarely cries. Things that make him smile are hearing his name, seeing himself in the mirror, being tickled, and watching his older brother do just about anything. His favorite foods are (pureed) tomatoes and carrots and apples--together or seperate.
Luca. Luca is three years old and is someone I did not instantly click with. He's fairly hard to understand when he talks, and often answers questions the opposite way of what he actually wants. Example: "Luca, do you want cereal?" "No." Then he cries because he doesn't have cereal. He's always very excited when I walk in the door and often cheers "Sawah!" as I enter. He loves his firetruck puzzle and he loves to sing and "play" guitar. His favorite foods are peanut butter and jelly and honeycomb cereal. He also loves chocolate milk. He's being potty trained, and in the past week or so has really come a long way. He needs a very long time to adjust after he's woken up from his afternoon nap, but is generally happy after he's had a snack. I think we're starting to understand each other more as time goes on.
Auden. Luca's little brother who is 16 months old. Auden is the fastest crawler I have ever seen. He's taken his first steps while I've been babysitting him, and will walk for you if you make it a game, but otherwise sees no need for walking. He is the sweetest one year old I have ever met. The only time I have ever heard him cry is when I put him in his crib if I run to the bathroom, and he stops after about 10 seconds and plays happily until I come get him. He smiles when he goes down for a nap, he smiles when he wakes up. He gets a confused look on his face when his brother hits him, but then smiles again pretty quickly after that. He loves to cuddle, especially after his naps. He says "yuh" a lot, especially in response to the question "do you want some honeycomb?", which is definitely his favorite food. He does what I call "the honeycomb dance" whenever there is the actual cereal or just the box, in his sight.
Clyde. Clyde will be three in February and LOVES trucks. He can name more trucks than I have ever heard of. He talks really fast and repeats things over and over until you acknowledge what he has sad. He loves Richard Scary books. He can walk for literally miles and never rides in a stroller. Clyde can focus on one task for very long periods of time. I've seen him play in a miniature sand box, or with his trucks in his room for hours at a time. He has a very advances palette for a 3 year old--I've seen him eat things like pesto and goat cheese and arugula. He's an interesting kid and is about to have his entire life changed by....
Ada! The one girl that I am now a babysitter for. She was born on Saturday, and is Clyde's little SISTER! I know nothing about her and will meet her later this week. I can't wait.
Kailas. Named after the tallest mountain in the Himalayas "Kailash", commonly known as K2. Kailas will be 3 in March and is one of the most interesting kids I have ever come to know--in a good way. He's extremely smart and well spoken for his age. He's 99% fully potty trained, which I have also come to realize is rare. He loves learning words in other languages and has an incredible memory for words and people and events. When I read books, Kailas likes to point at the faces of characters and ask me what the face means-whether it's happy or sad or angry, etc. His favorite foods are cereal bars and hummus (not together). He's a sweet, generally well-behaved boy who is constantly searching for new things to learn.
Talin. I can't remember the origin of his name, but it has something to do with India or Hinduism. Talin is Kailas' little brother and the second son of a woman who is of Indian decent and wants to preserve that culture in her boys. Talin will be a year old in May, which makes him about 8 months old right now. In the time that I have been watching him, he has learned to sit up and to crawl. He is a very mellow baby, and rarely cries. Things that make him smile are hearing his name, seeing himself in the mirror, being tickled, and watching his older brother do just about anything. His favorite foods are (pureed) tomatoes and carrots and apples--together or seperate.
Luca. Luca is three years old and is someone I did not instantly click with. He's fairly hard to understand when he talks, and often answers questions the opposite way of what he actually wants. Example: "Luca, do you want cereal?" "No." Then he cries because he doesn't have cereal. He's always very excited when I walk in the door and often cheers "Sawah!" as I enter. He loves his firetruck puzzle and he loves to sing and "play" guitar. His favorite foods are peanut butter and jelly and honeycomb cereal. He also loves chocolate milk. He's being potty trained, and in the past week or so has really come a long way. He needs a very long time to adjust after he's woken up from his afternoon nap, but is generally happy after he's had a snack. I think we're starting to understand each other more as time goes on.
Auden. Luca's little brother who is 16 months old. Auden is the fastest crawler I have ever seen. He's taken his first steps while I've been babysitting him, and will walk for you if you make it a game, but otherwise sees no need for walking. He is the sweetest one year old I have ever met. The only time I have ever heard him cry is when I put him in his crib if I run to the bathroom, and he stops after about 10 seconds and plays happily until I come get him. He smiles when he goes down for a nap, he smiles when he wakes up. He gets a confused look on his face when his brother hits him, but then smiles again pretty quickly after that. He loves to cuddle, especially after his naps. He says "yuh" a lot, especially in response to the question "do you want some honeycomb?", which is definitely his favorite food. He does what I call "the honeycomb dance" whenever there is the actual cereal or just the box, in his sight.
Clyde. Clyde will be three in February and LOVES trucks. He can name more trucks than I have ever heard of. He talks really fast and repeats things over and over until you acknowledge what he has sad. He loves Richard Scary books. He can walk for literally miles and never rides in a stroller. Clyde can focus on one task for very long periods of time. I've seen him play in a miniature sand box, or with his trucks in his room for hours at a time. He has a very advances palette for a 3 year old--I've seen him eat things like pesto and goat cheese and arugula. He's an interesting kid and is about to have his entire life changed by....
Ada! The one girl that I am now a babysitter for. She was born on Saturday, and is Clyde's little SISTER! I know nothing about her and will meet her later this week. I can't wait.
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