A day of toddlers

We had a program at work this morning for preschoolers and had one class each of kids aged three, four-ish, and five-ish. I ended up giving myself the three-year-old class by accident, but then was glad that I did because I had the most kid-wrangling experience of everyone involved. They were really good, really cute kids but it really was like herding cats at times. I've worked with the age before, but it's always a crash-course reminder of how three-year-olds want to tell you every story they can think of, have poor listening skills, and want to touch everything. Keeping this in mind, one can have quite a good time even when outnumbered. I was also happy to see how patient and competent the teachers were, since this particular school is a half-mile from our house and happens to be the one that my sister and I attended, and thus is on my list of places to consider sending Nico in a few years.

After that was over, I had to intercept another person trying to pull X and screw with my Y. I wanted to shout, "LISTEN TO ME WHEN I'M TALKING!" But I didn't, so points for me. And the first X-er has apparently accepted the compromise and is holding off on X-ing again until this weekend, so I no longer feel like punching anybody.

Then tonight, oy. Nico had a late, longish nap and seemed perfectly normal when I picked him up but began reenacting this production upon arrival at home. He did not want red pasta (pasta in tomato sauce), white pasta (toddler ravioli), or yellow pasta (mac and cheese) for dinner. He did not want a grilled cheese sandwich. He did not want applesauce. But he did want to whine and carry on and complain. Finally he grudgingly agreed to eat a banana and I decided I would accept it as semi-dinner and let it go. He eats well enough that a ridiculous meal every now and then is not a big deal. After the banana he asked to go play, but when I set him down to do so, he fuh-reaked out and starting wailing. I let him sit on my lap while I ate, and pretty soon he decided he did want a grilled cheese after all. He did not, however, want me to put him down in order to make the grilled cheese, and stood at his baby fence howling during the entire process. It was so bad that I sent one of those desperate, useless, and probably annoying texts to MB wherein the parent trapped alone with the raging toddler texts the parent who is off in the world presumably not being shouted at and says something like "OMG YOUR SON IS DRIVING ME TO DRINK."

And of course -- of COURSE -- once the sandwich was made Nico was too upset and choked up to eat it and instead sat in his chair gulping and coughing with big tears rolling down his cheeks. I win this one, though…I got one of his Little Bear books and read to him while surreptitiously popping bites of grilled cheese into his mouth every few pages, and he ate the whole sandwich. Hallelujah, praise cheeses. Once he ate, he was a new man. He was pleased to sit on my lap and let me read to him, and also to do this, which I must brag about:



I just cannot believe how many of those trucks he remembers now. (And a grateful shout-out to Jen, who sent him that book!) MB won the day by bringing home a package of mint Milanos for my pain, so all in all I suppose the whole thing comes out weighted mostly on the "win" side, and hooray for that.

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There's no graceful segue into this, but you can click over to my review blog between now and November 20 to get a 25% off coupon for Melissa & Doug toys.