"I Can't! My Baby Alligator Just Fall Down!" - And Other Such Stories from N

Sometimes, these things just hit you like 25 pounds of funny and you forget what you were reprimanding, asking, thinking about. Often, it's the things that come out of your own mouth, as I experienced when I worked at the preschool. Never thought you'd ask someone to please stop running around with markers in their mouth with no underpants on? Work with kids. And think again.

I still have some of the funniest things from my pre-school kids on file in my memory.

One little girl walked into school one morning and announced to everyone, her mother in tow, that, "My mommy was naked when she woke up this morning." Sorry mommy.

N and I have our fair share of moments around here too, many of them just completely out of the blue, and as its been awhile since I've done a post like this, I thought I'd catch up over here off the Twittersphere.

Enjoy.

Me: "Come on, you two!"
N: "I can't! My baby alligator just fell."
Me: "Oh no!"
N: "Yeah. Her name Pinnoch-nio."

N(looking up at the Christmas tree): "I need to grow bigger! (runs over to me) Rachel, I need to get bigger!"
Me: "You might if you sat down and ate your lunch!"
N: "I am eating!" Shows a mouthful of food.

N's mom: "Tell Rachel you'll see her later.
N: "Yeah."

N: "This is how you jump over Tipper (dog). We don't step on her. That make her mean."
Me: "Well, it probably hurts her too!"
N: "Yep. That make sense and stuff."

Me (as N and I are snugglin', and she's burying her face in my curls. She does this a lot as she likes to twirl them): "Does my hair smell good or something?"
N: "Your hair smokin'!"

N: "I princess just like you!"
I swear I don't bribe her to tell me that. Bless her heart, she came up with it all her own.

Me: "Morning, N!"
N: "Excuse me, Rachel!"
Me: "Excuse you?"
N: "Excuse me, I just poop again!"

N: "What's this?"
Me: "My zipper."
N: "Let's un-zip."
Me: "No, no, let's not."
N (pulls my dress up): "That your booty!"
Me: "Yep, that's my booty."

N: "I want this sticker for you." Sticks it on my forehead. Hello, Kitty.

Me: "What'd you do at school today?"
N: "Play."
Me: "What kind of things did you play."
N: "I not roll up my bottle."
Me: "Ah. Okay."

N: "Look, look!"
Me: "Oh you're in my boots! Quick let's take a pic to send mommy!"
N: "No. I too falling down."

N: "I not tall just like you, Rachel!"
Not nearly as complimentary as the princess comment.

N: "I not feeling well. You not feeling well?"
Me: "Yeah. Can we watch Cinderella pretty please?"
N: "Okay, nanny. We not feel well."

N: "I don't want to hit M on the head anymore."
Note: she hadn't been hitting him at all at the time, actually, was sitting and coloring quietly. Then volunteered this.

N: "Look at my Christmas!"
Talking about her family's Christmas tree(s).

N: "Why you have messy hair?"
Me: "It's curly. I have curly hair."
N: Why you have curly hair?"
Me: "I don't know, sweetie, I guess I just do!"
N: "No. You have messy hair."


Still yearning for more? Don't worry, N will keep saying things, and I will keep doing my best to record them, but to tide you over, see also my older posts, N Says and Grammar Lessons with N.

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie...If You Give a Child a Story...

As we enter the season of Christianity's favorite story, it's no wonder that - like so many things this time of year - storytelling enters an otherworldly realm of magic. In my household, a much-worn copy of The Night Before Christmas was lifted by my father's hands out of the Christmas box every Christmas eve after church, as he settled his reading glasses on his nose, and my sister and I snuggled into the warmth of his arms, drinking in his patient words and breathing in the cinnamon scented pages (somehow, in another type of Christmas magic, everything that came up out of the cardboard boxes full of decorations, advent candles and calendars, books and Wise Men, hiding in the depths of the basement all year, smelt of cinnamon, and other holiday smells, without fail, every year).

Would you be surprised that at 24 and 20, we still clamber for a reading of that tale (or at least, I do) on Christmas Eve each year? And my father - as he ages gently into a white beard, still with the glasses upon his nose (he was recently invited to join the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santa Clauses, and yes, Virginia, there is such a thing) - is no less patient, perhaps even more so, as a father must be with wistful adult daughters who still wish to hear nursery tales.

Be no less surprised that when gathering around our Advent Wreath each Sunday in December, the two of us fought and bickered predictably over who would get to read the words in the Christmas story that day.

In my adult years, I've begun the tradition of each year at Christmastime reading Charles Dickens' famed, A Christmas Carol, lest I forget it's lessons.

N and I (already!) read Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas every day before nap - and she sounds in resoundingly ("Giddap!") at the parts she's already memorized in the past week or so - and her father reads it to her every night before bedtime.

But what if you were a child whose household never read you a story, not at Christmas, not ever? And what if you couldn't even find a book at your school?

As a recent tutor-in-training with Literacy KC, a local non-profit dedicated to improving the literacy skills of area adults through one-on-one tutoring, I've spent the last several weeks learning all the gory details of the state of literacy in this, our first-world country. And as a nanny, I see a fair amount of Nick Jr, whose campaign and partnership with First Book has enlightened me with some scary statistics. While Literacy KC is working towards helping adults with, for what is for many students a lifetime struggle with reading, First Book is focused on children's access to books, another key to solving the literacy issue.

A few facts:

"A recent study shows that while in middle income neighborhoods the ratio of books per child is 13 to 1, in low-income neighborhoods, the ratio is 1 age-appropriate book for every 300 children."

"80% of preschools and after-school programs serving low-income populations have no age-appropriate books for their children."

My own journey with Literacy KC has been an emotional one; during training, I've heard testimonies from students who had sudden realizations that, when reading to their preschooler, they would never be able to read a book to their child again, to students who wanted to work, but couldn't fill out a job application. It's something I took for granted all of my life: parents who loved to read to me, and love to read themselves, access to all the books my book-crazy heart could desire, a quality education, and even a natural ability to read and write. So many of the students at Literacy KC struggle with poor phonemic awareness and learning disabilities, and because of their socioeconomic circumstances, were passed through as "stupid," by teachers, schools, and parents who didn't care, or grew up in households where nobody they knew could read either. Some of these people graduate their high schools reading at an 8th grade level, or far worse. And they will tell you themselves just how far you can't get at a 5th grade reading level, diploma, or not.

And this is just America.

Nick Jr has teamed up with First Book and We Give Books as part of their Big Help initiative- a "commitment to engage kids to take action and make a difference by connecting them to issues and current events they are passionate about. The campaign focuses on four key concerns that affect the current generation of kids: the sustainability of the environment, the need to improve on health and wellness, the right to a quality education and becoming more active in their community." They've put together on-line book drive campaigns in order to provide books to children of the low-income neighborhoods, families, and schools.

Not only that, but they encourage you to encourage your own little reader (should you know one); We Give Books' campaign functions on the premise that you select a book from their digital library to read online, and they donate a book.

And then there's Anthropologie, who's teamed up with Penguin Books to create holiday story time sessions in their stores that coincide with local book drives. Your child can listen to a story while you shop this holiday season (which makes a happier shopping experience for everyone), and when you check out, you can pick a book or toy from their selection to donate.

Check out their Facebook page for more info; in Kansas City, our drive takes place at the Country Club Plaza store, on December 15, from 10-12 am (this time slot seems as though it might be wrong - I'm going to investigate, and changes will be posted if need be).

Also, locally, Churchill - located in the Fairway shops - will be donating a percentage of their November and December sales to Literacy KC.

I promise this isn't just me up on my soapbox; 'tis always the season to give and be thankful, but here's to helping children everywhere start fresh in the new year with a book to read.

Grammar Lessons with N

N is rounding the corner to three, and especially having been in school for a month now, is talking, talking, talking. Always entertaining. Her language skills are really starting to develop and as we work on them, I've taken the liberty of recording some of her best moments:

On the Tenses…
“What did you do at school today, N?”
“I eat gum!”
“You ate what?”
“I eat gum!”
“Really? Well, it’s “I ate gum, ‘ate’ is the past tense.”
“I ate past tense!”

On Proper Nouns…“We’re the People O’Dells. Let‘s call Mommy O‘Dell.”
“Well, Mommy O’Dell is at work. How about we call her when she’s on her way home from work?”
“Okay!”
“What about Daddy O’Dell?
Nooooo he’s not Daddy O’Dell!”
“He’s not?”
“Nooo he’s Dude O’Dell. That’s my daddy’s name!

“You call me sweet pea?”
“I sure do!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re sweet, and you’re a little pea.”
“Oh. Okay!”

On Modifiers...

Note: We've been playing at the park quite a bit the past week or so, what with the weather so gorgeous and all. One of N's favorite activities is the slide, which she likes to slide down, and the climb back up, and then do it all over again. Sometimes, when she needs a rest, she likes to lay at the bottom of the slide and proclaim, "I'm dead."

"What are you doing, N?"
"I'm dead!"
"Ooooohhh no! What are we gonna do? Maybe tickles will bring you back to life!"
(Laughing, then very serious) "No, don't touch me, I too dead!"
"Too dead for tickles?"
"Yes. I too dead."

"Okay, I not dead anymore!"

On Vocabulary...

"I can't do this, I too little."
"It's I'm too little, and no you're not! You're a big girl!"
"No, it's too wobbly."
"It is crooked, huh?"
"Yeah. It's too crookedebly."

crook-ed-eb-ly: crooked + wobbly + eb?


Side note: One of the reasons for languages changing throughout history has been parents thinking their child's pronunciation of something, or mis-use of words and grammar is cute . . . and it is! But N and I will strive forward towards proper grammar. My favorite grammar rule? Borrowed from my kindergarten teacher, which I still remember to this day, and apparently used to use to correct my own parents: "Cookies are done, children are finished."

Nannyisms - Lessons I've Learned Thus Far

So, this nanny thing. I’ve been doing it for almost three months now, I think. And, I’ve been bound to learn a thing or two by now, right? In the spirit of remembering said lessons, I think it's only appropriate that they be recorded.

So, for starters, the current bane of my existence is the spoiled milk smell that haunts my car, that NO MATTER WHAT I DO, I CAN NOT GET OUT.

At least after a time, I found the source: a stray sippy cup that had wandered under my seat, no doubt thrown there by small, exasperated hands (or dropped, sadly, and lost, like a smelly Velveteen Rabbit). By the time I found it, after the weekend (my car had been parked in a hotel garage for a wedding and largely un-driven), it’s contents had congealed and sprouted life.

The most unfortunate part of the poor sippy cup’s saga is that two hours of my day consist of driving in my car’s malodorous confines. That is two hours of spoilt milk smell. You think, perhaps I will get used to it, but no, you really don’t, and no amount of driving with the windows down has helped the situation.

At the moment (though it's now mid-week, still smelly, and looking grim) I can only hope, and pray, that time, and Febreze, will help ameliorate my stinky situation, but I have at the very least learned a very important lesson: make sure all sippy cups are present and accounted for upon exiting the vehicle.

That is Lesson #1 in my book. Here are just a few more, as I’ve learned so far:

2) Soap is icky. We don’t eat soap.

3) You never know when you’re going to land on an answer to “Why?”

“Drive, Rachel, drive!” I hear, daily, from my back seat. Or, “Hey Rachel, whatcha doin’?”
 “I can’t go right now, N,” I say, or, “Driving.”
“Why?” or, “You pick me up from school? Why?”
“Because that’s my job.”
“Why?”
“Because…I love you. Because…it’s my job to take care of you. Because...your mommy and daddy are at work. Because...your mommy asked me to. Because…that‘s how life works.”

“Because that’s how life goes,” or, “Because accidents happen” are two of my favorites, actually. I’m always amazed that they consistently work, too.

Of course, today, I got, “You pick me up, Rachel? Because that’s your job?” Ah! Progress!
“Yes,” I say.
“Doggone it!” N says. This is, of course, one of her new favorite things to say (we‘ve finally moved past “poop“), but to this…I could only laugh and say,
“Yes, that’s right, N, doggone it - you just said a mouthful, lady.”

“Why?”

4) Teaching patience requires great patience - enormous amounts of it, often - but is so worth it. You both learn it. At your own pace, of course.

5) And, to that effect, temper tantrums can be easy. No, seriously. Let them have them. N wants to scream and kick and shout? Fine by me. Let her get it out. There will be more of them and they will be bigger, and in more public places, if you give in. She knows that when she’s ready to talk, and calm down, she can get up out of time out and we can discuss that nap. She probably knows she’s really ready for it after all those tears and spent energy.

As one of the Big Lessons I've learned over the course of my life, and my nannying, is, There Will Always Be More Lessons, I'm sure this is to be continued. . .