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?
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
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.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Ray
Ray, a great guy and amazing asset to the Bryn Mawr Athletics Program, passed away last Friday. I went to two memorial services today for Ray, and learned a lot about him that I didn't know. From his physical appearance, I assumed he was an athlete at some point in his life. He was extremely tall and muscular, at least 6'3 and 250 pounds. During high school he was the star of both the baseball and basketball teams, and was offered a contract with the Chicago Cubs as well as a full scholarship to Temple University for basketball. He ultimately chose basketball at Temple, which is lucky for Bryn Mawr, because he probably wouldn't have ended up there had he gone to Chicago. Ray was a giant compared to most people on Bryn Mawr's campus, but he was a gentle giant. He was soft-spoken and always had something encouraging to say. He never missed a home event at Bryn Mawr. He was always there, standing stoically on the sidelines of every soccer game I played. I always saw him on the field, checking things out as I walked to the gym an hour and a half before games started. His greeting to every person he saw was "Hey, Bud."
One of the two services today was a Quaker Meeting style memorial service, where people stood up and told their stories of Ray. One girl talked about how much she didn't like being at Bryn Mawr because she was homesick all the time. She talked about how eventually, through playing field hockey, and lifting weights under the guidance of Ray in the off season, the gym became the place where she felt most at home on the Bryn Mawr campus. It wasn't the dorms or her major department. It was the gym, with Ray and all the coaches. I never thought about it before, but that is exactly how I felt at Bryn Mawr, and how I still feel. I've walked into the gym a handful of times since graduating, and I always feel at ease there. I know I'll see familiar friendly faces, and I know I will really miss Ray's being one of them.
Ray dedicated the later part of his life to making people, especially women at Bryn Mawr, physically stronger. He pushed our bodies to the limits, but not beyond what he knew we could do. He cared so immensely about each person in that gym or on those fields, that it's almost hard to believe. He had to undergo a double knee replacement a couple of months ago, and complications from that kept him without the use of his legs for longer than he or anyone else expected. The complications meant was no longer able to do the one thing he seemingly loved most in life, which was being a part of Bryn Mawr Athletics. Unfortunately, this frustration turned into depression, which ultimately led Ray to decide life wasn't worth living anymore.
I wish Ray could have known how much he meant to all of us. I wish there was something we could have done, an extra step we could have taken. I will always remember him as that big friendly giant in the gym and on the soccer field, with a huge smile and a "Hey Bud!". He will hold a place in all hearts who had the honor of knowing him.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Strange Happenings
So the other day I was walking down the street to a beer store (yes, in Pennsylvania you can only buy beer at designated stores). This store is only two blocks from my apartment, but I saw two significantly strange things on my walk.
The first was a tiny little snake wriggling down the sidewalk. It couldn't have been more than a couple inches long, and at first I thought it was a garter snake, but I am pretty sure those are black. I might be wrong. This snake was tan or light yellow (it was pretty dark outside). I tried to guide it to the side of the sidewalk where there was grass in hopes that it wouldn't get stepped on, but I don't know if it made it. Hopefully he/she is out there somewhere, and doesn't grow much bigger.
The second thing I saw was a trolley hit a car. I was standing on the corner, waiting for Jess to pick me up on her way back from work so we could go to a friend's house, when I heard a loud bang/crunch. I looked over and the trolley was stopped, and as I crossed the street to the other side, I realized there was a car smashed up against the trolley. I guess the car was pulling out of a spot on the side of the street and the trolley crashed into it. I am not sure whose fault it was, but neither vehicle could have been going more than 10 miles per hour. The driver's door though, was completely stuck closed though, because it was up against the side of the trolley. No one was seriously injured. I felt bad for everyone riding on the trolley though because they all had to get off, and no other trolley was going to be coming anytime soon because the tracks were now blocked off with this accident. Bummer.
That is all I have to report from the block at 48th and Chester. More to come.
The first was a tiny little snake wriggling down the sidewalk. It couldn't have been more than a couple inches long, and at first I thought it was a garter snake, but I am pretty sure those are black. I might be wrong. This snake was tan or light yellow (it was pretty dark outside). I tried to guide it to the side of the sidewalk where there was grass in hopes that it wouldn't get stepped on, but I don't know if it made it. Hopefully he/she is out there somewhere, and doesn't grow much bigger.
The second thing I saw was a trolley hit a car. I was standing on the corner, waiting for Jess to pick me up on her way back from work so we could go to a friend's house, when I heard a loud bang/crunch. I looked over and the trolley was stopped, and as I crossed the street to the other side, I realized there was a car smashed up against the trolley. I guess the car was pulling out of a spot on the side of the street and the trolley crashed into it. I am not sure whose fault it was, but neither vehicle could have been going more than 10 miles per hour. The driver's door though, was completely stuck closed though, because it was up against the side of the trolley. No one was seriously injured. I felt bad for everyone riding on the trolley though because they all had to get off, and no other trolley was going to be coming anytime soon because the tracks were now blocked off with this accident. Bummer.
That is all I have to report from the block at 48th and Chester. More to come.
Friday, October 16, 2009
the commercial lies
You may remember a commercial, probably for visa, where everyone is in a cafeteria line and there's music playing in rhythm with each customer paying for their meal with their debit card. Then one person pulls out cash and the music comes to a screeching halt, and the person is bascially shunned because they ruined the fast paced rhythm of the check-out line.
I think of this commercial all the time when I am working at the cafe because it is actually the exact opposite. When I have a line out the door and am working at the register, I hate to see someone pull our their credit card. This means sliding the card, waiting for the receipts to print, giving them the receipt to sign, waiting for them to decide if they're going to tip me or not, signing it, them handing it back and waiting for the register to finalize the transaction. All this in the time I could have had 3 customers pay with cash and move on. Also if the card is old and the machine won't read the strip, I have to type in the card number manually.
So. If you have the cash, I say use it. Don't be fooled by that commercial. It's for people who want to make themselves feel better for holding up lines with their credit cards.
I think of this commercial all the time when I am working at the cafe because it is actually the exact opposite. When I have a line out the door and am working at the register, I hate to see someone pull our their credit card. This means sliding the card, waiting for the receipts to print, giving them the receipt to sign, waiting for them to decide if they're going to tip me or not, signing it, them handing it back and waiting for the register to finalize the transaction. All this in the time I could have had 3 customers pay with cash and move on. Also if the card is old and the machine won't read the strip, I have to type in the card number manually.
So. If you have the cash, I say use it. Don't be fooled by that commercial. It's for people who want to make themselves feel better for holding up lines with their credit cards.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
The little visitor
Today at work I was in the middle of a transaction at the cash register and I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I looked to my left, and scurrying across the floor was a tiny brown mouse. I was holing the money the woman getting coffee across the register from me had just given me but in the midst of trying not to freak out about the mouse, I totally lost concentration of what I was doing. I used all the focus I had to get her the right change and have her leave the counter. When my flamboyantly gay (and awesome) shift leader came back from wherever he was I let him know about our little visitor. He said he would call the owner and let him know.
A few minutes later we were helping more customers when I hear my shift leader say "Oh my god" under his breath. I looked over and the mouse was right at the edge of where behind the counter becomes the public seating area...just teetering on the edge of remaining a secret and becoming a public health code violation. I tried to keep a straight face as we worked through the line of customers. Then the little guy crawled under the refrigerated case where we keep soda, juice, water etc. Another girl who was working took the top of a plastic "clamshell" salad to-go container to try and trap the mouse when he came out from his hiding spot and I got the broom and dustpan in case he came my way. Needless to say, he really liked that spot and stayed there for a while.
Later in the night, my shift leader and I were standing at the espresso/sandwich end of the bar (farthest away from the soda/water/juice cooler) and the mouse came crawling back towards us, distracted by all the little bits of food on the ground. My shift leader and I both froze, knowing we had to trap him (or her) but not knowing how. I said "quick! give me something to put over it!" and the first thing he handed me was a big metal salad-tossing bowl, which i promptly covered the mouse with. My shift leader then ran to the back and got a much-too-large-for-a-mouse sized box. We slid the box under the bowl until the little mouse's tail was sticking out from the bowl, which was mostly in the box. then I pulled out the bowl with salad-tossing tongs and closed the box, and carried it outside to the dumpter. I could feel him scurrying around inside the box as I carried it, but then when I put it in the dumpster and opened it, he just sat there in the corner of the box. He was so tiny (smaller than a golf ball) and his heart was beating so fast, he must have been terrified. I left him in the box (hoping he'd find some good stuff to eat in the dumpster), and bid him farewell.
Mouse problem solved. For now.
Another highlight of the day included a man coming in as we were closing and asking for a scone. We told him we were closed, and he said, "I really need it, It's my birthday you can keep the change," and handed us ten dollars and walked out the door. My shift leader gave himself and me $5 each and let him have the scone "for free".
In other, more serious news, someone at the store got their purse stolen tonight. It's the third time it's happened there since I started working and the 5th time it's happened in the last month or so. Apparently it's some woman who comes in and just looks around or sits down for a while and then walks out and grabs things on the way. No good at all.
That's all for my adventures in coffee-land today. Mr (or Ms.) mouse definitely stole the show!
A few minutes later we were helping more customers when I hear my shift leader say "Oh my god" under his breath. I looked over and the mouse was right at the edge of where behind the counter becomes the public seating area...just teetering on the edge of remaining a secret and becoming a public health code violation. I tried to keep a straight face as we worked through the line of customers. Then the little guy crawled under the refrigerated case where we keep soda, juice, water etc. Another girl who was working took the top of a plastic "clamshell" salad to-go container to try and trap the mouse when he came out from his hiding spot and I got the broom and dustpan in case he came my way. Needless to say, he really liked that spot and stayed there for a while.
Later in the night, my shift leader and I were standing at the espresso/sandwich end of the bar (farthest away from the soda/water/juice cooler) and the mouse came crawling back towards us, distracted by all the little bits of food on the ground. My shift leader and I both froze, knowing we had to trap him (or her) but not knowing how. I said "quick! give me something to put over it!" and the first thing he handed me was a big metal salad-tossing bowl, which i promptly covered the mouse with. My shift leader then ran to the back and got a much-too-large-for-a-mouse sized box. We slid the box under the bowl until the little mouse's tail was sticking out from the bowl, which was mostly in the box. then I pulled out the bowl with salad-tossing tongs and closed the box, and carried it outside to the dumpter. I could feel him scurrying around inside the box as I carried it, but then when I put it in the dumpster and opened it, he just sat there in the corner of the box. He was so tiny (smaller than a golf ball) and his heart was beating so fast, he must have been terrified. I left him in the box (hoping he'd find some good stuff to eat in the dumpster), and bid him farewell.
Mouse problem solved. For now.
Another highlight of the day included a man coming in as we were closing and asking for a scone. We told him we were closed, and he said, "I really need it, It's my birthday you can keep the change," and handed us ten dollars and walked out the door. My shift leader gave himself and me $5 each and let him have the scone "for free".
In other, more serious news, someone at the store got their purse stolen tonight. It's the third time it's happened there since I started working and the 5th time it's happened in the last month or so. Apparently it's some woman who comes in and just looks around or sits down for a while and then walks out and grabs things on the way. No good at all.
That's all for my adventures in coffee-land today. Mr (or Ms.) mouse definitely stole the show!
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