The downside of running a daycare, II.
I got my master's degree. I wanted an "analytical" job that would make me "think" and "ponder" and have grown up conversations.

Instead, I read stories on the floor, answer "why" questions, and talk about boogers and poop an awful lot. I love what I do, but I find myself mentally listing the downsides.

Before starting this, I worried that the quasi-intelligent side of my brain might die if not used. I am starting to realize this truth.

Last week I walked through the family room as hubby was watching a new show.
Oooooh. You like that show? Neat!
He shot me a look, and I realized it. I cannot escape kid teacher mode.

Then, a few nights ago, he let Charlie stay up way too late. The next day, Charlie was clinging to my leg like Saran Wrap, and constantly asking for me to hold him. He was overtired. That night, I laid into hubby. Except, instead of casually mentioning we should find and stick to a bedtime, I became that lady again.
His bedtime is 8:00. No exceptions!
I couldn't tell if he felt belittled or angry, but romantic and sexy were not either of the expressions I read.

Then, last night. I was talking to a girlfriend on the phone. She said something moderately funny, and I actually said:
Nooooo.... silly!

Before you know it, I'll be asking everyone if they went stinky before leaving the house. And then actually offering to wipe their butts. And reminding them to use soap when they wash. And putting the hand towel on the counter, within reaching distance.

Quotables.
The talk.
Charlie (to me): Mommy, do you want to see my penis?
Me: Uh, ok. But we need to talk. You know you never show that to anyone else, right?
Charlie: See, mommy? See it?
Me: Yes. Only mommy and daddy should see it. And don't let anyone touch it.
Charlie: No one touches my penis?
Me: That's right. Except for mommy and daddy when we are washing you.
Charlie: Ok. I won't let Lucy touch it. And I won't touch Lucy's, either.
Me: Um, ok.

So I guess I need a brow wax.
Charlie [staring intently at my face, upper region.]
Me: What are you looking at?
Charlie: Your eyebrows.
Me: ok.
Charlie: What is that under your eyebrows? [Lifts brow hairs.] Oh, just more brown stuff.

And a cleaning.
While cuddling in bed with him this weekend...
Charlie: Mommy, I love you so much.
Me: I love you too, sweetie!
Charlie (with furrowed brow): Mommy, you have something in your teeth.
Me: Ok. I will brush them right after I'm done cuddling with you.
Charlie: Before they turn brown and fall out of your mouth?
Me: Yes, before then.

Toddler eavesdropping.
Here are some of the things I heard today from the four boys, as they ran back and forth with their trucks:

I'm gonna get you. no no no! here i coming. You better watch out. [pow pow pow]. I gonna shoot you [pow pow crash]. I am gonna eat that poo poo off your face [slosh slosh slosh.]

That last one was from Charlie.

Quotables.
Last night I came home to find Charlie and his new sitter (whom he loves), using Mega Bloks to build airplanes.
Charlie: And this is the hairplane and its fighter jets, and these shoot like this (shooting noises), and these are the boobs.
Me: Did you just say the boobs?
Charlie: Yes, so that other jet planes don't run into him.

Aw, that's lovely.
Charlie was wiping his butt, and decided to leave the toilet paper in between his cheeks, so it stuck out just like so, visible for the world to see.
Me: Charlie, what are you doing?
Charlie: Look at me! I'm a chicken!

Charlie Dice Clay
Last night I was rummaging through the cubbards, trying to figure out what sounded good. Not thinking this innocent question could possibly be a set-up, I asked:
Do I smell cookie dough, or do I just smell what I am craving?
Husband: I don't know. It smells like vagina.
Charlie: It smells like va-gina!!!
Husband: [withholding laughter, not able to talk].
Charlie: It smells like.... vagina!
Me: Um.....
Charlie: It smells like vagina!!!!
Husband: No, we don't say... [laugher.]
Charlie: It smells like va-gin-a!
Me [to hubby]: You are so going into time-out.
Charlie: It smells like vagina!!! Vagina! Vagina! Vagina!
Husband [goes and stands in the corner]. Sorry.
Charlie: Vagina!

This should probably be a good time to add that our kitchen strictly smells like spices and sugar and honey and things.

Quotables
For diversity week, we are talking about similar vs. different.

Me: So, Mikey, looking at your hand and mine, how are they similar?
Mikey: Um, they are hands.
Me: Yeah, and they both have five fingers. How are they different?
Mikey: You have these red knuckles right here, and here.
Me: Yeah...
Mikey: You need some... [quietly] ...marsha.
Me: You mean lotion?
Mikey: Yeah. Lotion.

Quotables

Charlie: Boys have a penis, and girls have a bagilla.

Later...
Charlie: Mommy, where are my boobies?
Me: You don't have boobies because you are a boy.
Charlie: But what are these thingies?
Me: Those are your nipples.
Charlie: Noooooo... they are buttons.

Done whining now.
All right. Two posts of whining, and I am officially snapping myself out of it. Sorry for that.

I am looking straight into ten uninterrupted days off with my kids, hubby, and kitty. Days to rejuvinate and celebrate Christmas. So on a positive note:

Quotables
Jerry: Charlie, why don't you go play in the other room?
Charlie: No, mommy is in there. I don't like her.
Jerry: That was mean.
Charlie (walking over to me): Oh mommy, I sorry. I love you. I love you all my heart.

Later:
Will crawls over to me, uses my arms as handles and pulls himself to a standing position, and gives me a big, wet, open-mouth kiss on my cheek. Aw, sweet stuff.

Quotables
Charlie: Mommy, I don't want to get small and go into your tummy again. Cuz, I scared of your food.

Later...
Charlie (playing at the table): [bang, bang, bang]
Jerry: Um, Charlie, how old are you again?
Charlie: Three.
Jerry: You are too old to be playing at the table. When you're three, you can act nice at the table.
Charlie: Oh. I be two again?

During the daycare...
Charlie: Lucy, will you sleep with me? And cuddle with me? In my bed?
Lucy: Yes!!
Oh my.

Quotables
Charlie: I want my daddy.
Me: He is driving home from work.
Charlie: No, I want to see him now.
Me: Well, he can't really drive any faster.
Charlie: Cuz he needs more power? In his car?

Lucy [giving very mean look to other daycare kid]: Go away. I crabby!
Me: You can be crabby in that hallway, or nice in the playroom.
Lucy: I nice. I happy happy happy!!!

My lover boy.
Charlie is so loving. Lately, these have been our discussions:
Charlie (watching me walk by): I love you too, mommy.

Charlie (at dinnertime): I want to sit by daddy.
Hubby: No, your seat is by mommy. Can you sit in this empty seat?
Charlie: No, I don't want to sit by mommy.
Me: (pretend crying). Sniff.
Charlie (seeing me cry): Oooooh, mommy... I sorry. I love you too.

Charlie (riding by me on his ride-on car outside, looking at me): Hi mommy. I love you too.

I've been basking in his complete and pure love for me lately. Then...
Charlie (after going poop on the potty): Bye bye pooh pooh! I love you too!

Quotables

Charlie (to daycare kids, in the morning): That's my breakfast. My steak from yesterday.
We don't actually eat steak, so I am not sure where he got that. If we did eat steak, we would not serve it for breakfast.

Me: Charlie, what's in your mouth?
Charlie: oh, anything.

Charlie (to his best friend, and holding his fingers about an inch apart): Poop looks like this. Teeny, tiny.
Mikey (disagreeing passionately): Nooooo, poop is like this (arms very wide apart). Like this, Charlie.
Charlie: Nooooo, poop looks like this.

Lucy: I'm here now!
Lucy (later): I pretty.
Lucy (later): I cute.
Lucy (later): I crabby.
Lucy (later): I sweet.
That last one just about killed me.

Why am I so tired?

I sleep a good 6 hours a night. Will only wakes up once, maybe twice per night now. Husband lets me sleep in at least once a week. I often take 5 minute cat naps during the day. Why am I so f*ing tired?

I've done my research and ruled out sleep apnea, insomnia, endocrine abnormalities, anemia, and hypogonadism. So why do I feel like putting my head on the table and either banging it right there, or going to sleep?

I have finally found the cause. It is Charlie. He will not stop talking.

I love the little guy. Don't get me wrong. And when he turned 2 and was hardly talking at all, we were worried sick. Other parents said smug things like, "once he starts, you won't be able to get him to stop." "Yeah, right," we said. We just wanted him to talk. That was just over a year ago.

Now it is hard to admit that they were right.

Here is our dinnertime conversation of last night:

Charlie: Mommy, I set your place for you. See dat? See dat mommy?
Me: Oh, yes, you set the table for me. Thanks, sweetie.
Charlie: Did you see the knife, and the fork, right there?
Me: Yes, I see, good job. Husband, did you...
Charlie: And I put the milk cup there for you.
Me: Yes, sweetie, that's great. Let me talk to...
Charlie: Mommy, see Will? He is eating in his high chair, right there. Right there, mommy. See that? See that mommy?
Me: Yes, that is great. Thanks for pointing that out.
Charlie: We are going to eat chicken? Chicken mommy? And that donut?
Me: Yes. That's a bagel, actually.
Charlie: A bagel, mommy? Right there? With a hole right there?
Husband: Charlie, let's pretend like we are waiting for a bus.
Charlie: What you say daddy?
Husband: When you are waiting for a bus, you are quiet. Can we be quiet while we eat? For a moment.
Charlie: Yes, yes daddy. I being quiet. See that mommy? See? I being quiet. I quiet mommy.
(silence.)
Charlie: See mommy? I being quiet? See?
Me: Yes. That is great. Just great. Husband, I wanted to talk about...
Charlie (whispering): mary had a little lamb.
Charlie (whispering louder): little lamb.
Charlie(whispering yet, louder): la la la la la la la.....

Smart kid, or just a smarty pants?

Charlie (to daddy): Daddy, that's dirty laundry?
Daddy: Yes.
Charlie: That makes mommy sad.
Daddy: Really, sad?
Charlie: Yes. And frustrated.

Later...
The kids are sitting around the table doing an art project that involves cutting (with kid-safe scissors, of course)
Me: Charlie, stop using those scissors to cut that crayon.
Charlie: No.
Me: Do you want me to take them away?
Charlie: Mommy, you go in that next room, and then I use this scissors to cut this crayon???
It is a genuine question.

Later...
Charlie gets a time-out. He doesn't stay in it. So I give him the once-dreaded but now-useless Upstairs Time-Out, which is supposed to involve boring time away from his best friends. I put him in Will's baby room, because it is extra boring in there. Two minutes later I go to release him. He is sitting in Will's crib, holding one of his wall pictures in his hands.
Me: Uh, Charlie...
Charlie: Mommy, mommy! This picture fell off this wall, so I jump up here on crib, and I catch it.
Wow. My hero.

Later...
We step over a kid's nap mat, lying in the middle of the floor.
Charlie: This is a bed for cuddling on. Mommy, will you cuddle with me, on this bed, right now?
Awww.