Do you remember a while back I wrote a post about the level of sheer carnage occurring with my brawling preschoolers? Well things have calmed down through the months. The kids have stopped the smackdown and their attention spans have stretched to include schoolish activities lasting up to 15 minutes in length as long as the mother who’s teaching does a pretty elaborate song and dance routine to keep them engaged. It’s been going pretty well.
There are six moms in my group and we all take turns teaching our group of 3-year-olds from a purchased curriculum, complete with activities and pre-cut craft projects. Then we get 5 weeks off to run errands, go to doctors’ appointments or simply lay around the house bonding with our much loved inter-uterine parasite.
This morning the kids arrived at my house and I was optimistic. I was ready. I’d even vacuumed the floor and laid out all the supplies.
Over the last few days Laylee and Magoo have set up a spaceship playhouse under the stairs, under the staircase with the 8-inch wooden beam along the outside of it. It’s a cramped space and they’ve pushed the couch up against the opening so there’s only the teeniest space for them to climb in and out of their hideout. I decided to let them leave it up for a few days and the preschoolers were thrilled.
15 minutes into the playdate, one sweet teeny 3-year-old smashed her nose at full speed into the wooden beam while jumping around inside the spaceship. Blood was EVERYWHERE. The poor kid was in pain and completely traumatized by the red dribbling all down her clothes, the couch and smeared all over her face. I ran her into the kitchen where I sat on the floor, holding her and sent Magoo to get a full roll of toilet paper and my cell phone.
The bleeding was intense for someone so tiny and in a soft voice she kept saying, “I want my mom.” But her mom was unreachable and I was the next best thing.
While I tried to stop the gushing, the other kids ran around like total insane sun-starved maniacs from the rainy northwest who CANNOT HANDLE ONE MORE DAY TRAPPED INSIDE. They were squawking, sword-fighting and hitting the walls, the furniture and each other with various objects.
Then another one started screaming. Poor little S-Dawg with the cast on his arm and the brand new baby brother at home had smashed the back of his head on the wooden beam and was howling in pain. All the other kids came running. “S-DAWG SMACKED HIS HEAD.”
One of my most basic parenting instincts kicked in and I decided that hemorrhaging trumps concussion so I called out comforting words to the poor little guy while rocking the bleeder and changing her compresses. Meanwhile the other children, forgetting their fallen friends, went all Lord of the Flies again.
Eventually I got her cleaned up and convinced her to change into some of Laylee’s clothes. She insisted that the shirt be pretty enough or she’d remain happily in her gore. If she were 3 years older, she’d be Laylee’s very best friend.
I dealt with Head Wound Boy, outlawed the space ships, outlawed the swords and light sabers and got everyone to chill while I googled “how to remove blood from upholstery” and followed the listed instructions.
We started preschool over an hour late today but all the children were alive or at least clinging to life when they left my house. That is my story.
Wow!!! Glad you survived…and the kidlets, too.
sweet mama entropy says
Since doing one with my oldest last year, every time I hear “preschool co-op” I cringe uncontrollably. This post is like my nightmare scenario. It sounds like you handled it beautifully! (Better you than me 🙂
now that’s impressive!
Oh, my. That is CRAZY!!!! And a really good story. Especially because you are pregnant which makes every story that much better.
Steph @ Diapers and Divinity says
Thank you for reminding me that I must. not. participate in a preschool co-op. Oh, sweet mercy, woman! I grant you permission to take a 4-hour nap! 🙂
Well done K! Way to spring into action.
So well written that I had a tiny panic attack *for* you.
I hope once they were all picked up, you ordered take out and ordered your butt to the couch for the rest of the day/evening.
(went all Lord of the Flies again) LOL. Lines like this are why you are a writer. 🙂
All this while preggers! You are one crazy lady! Good job remaining calm. I would’ve done what I always do when in a panic: call my husband…which never helps.
Yeouch. And this is why I will never, ever babysit again.
Wow. That sounds intense. Please accept one “pat on the back” from me. I would offer you a cookie, but I don’t want to be blamed for inciting the goo in your bowels. Being pregnant is so glamorous 😉
'cuz I'm the mommy, that's why says
Note to self: Just Say No to preschool coop. I just was reminded again why I didn’t go into early childhood education. (I went with nursing: they are already hurt when I get them and I have no responsibility to claim for the injury)
May I suggest bubble-wrap suits and bicycle helmets as mandatory uniforms?
Perhaps your next unit can be on “H is for Hospital.”
Haven’t checked in here in awhile, and just got all caught up, so I just wanted to say– Congratulations on your inter-uterine parasite! I’m sure you’ll be feeling better soon!
Sorry to hear about all the blood, sweat, tears, vomit, etc., though.
you just gotta love joy school carnage. hopefully you can enjoy your weeks off.
I’m hoping it was an old couch.
Ouch–that big bad wooden beam should be sent to time out!
“clinging to life”….lol!
Okay, well, I WAS going to call you and see what your preschool plans are for next year, but uh… I think Sarah is going to be washing her hair that day. J/K! What an adventure! It sounds like the kids made it out okay, but I want to know how YOU are???