Preschool and the Poop Parade

Every Thursday a few friends and I take turns teaching "Preschool." Mostly the kids just play, but we do read some stories and a few activities that focus on a letter.

Last week, I taught the letter R and the theme was Rabbits. The kids wore Rabbit ears.


Ran Rabbit Races.And later ate raisins, ravioli, Ritz crackers, red apples, and rabbit food (carrots). It started out like a pretty normal morning, the kids played and had fun. Then the disasters began. Without going into the gory details, by 11 a.m. I had changed five poopy diapers (two blow-outs), cleaned up a vomit and then dealt with this...

While I was addressing one of the bodily-function-related disasters, the boys went in Gavin's room and played "garbage men." They took EVERYTHING, books, toys, clothes, shoes, train tracks, etc. and dumped it on Gavin's bed. There was nothing left in his dresser or on his shelves. It took a solid hour to clean off the bed (which I did once everyone had gone home). Gavin has done this little garbage game before, so he knew that the punishment for "treating his toys like garbage was to make them garbage." I made him help me put all his toys in big black garbage bags, and after he cried sufficiently and swore he would never do it again, help me put everything back the way it should be. Call me a mean mother if you wish...I made my point.

If that wasn't enough watch the video below. The Rabbit Ears, Races, Peter Rabbit Puppet Show, and Ravioli was for naught.

At least I had something to laugh about.

If you think this wasn't enough to make me want to shed tears(I never actually cry), the next day was nearly sufficient.

All seemed perfect in the world, the sun was shining, Gavin and Laynie were playing nicely, I was happily doing dishes. Then Gavin walked into the kitchen.

"Look at my foot mom." Gavin holds up his Sasquatch foot in a green camo croc. His pale white skin is covered in a sticky brown substance.

My mind races. We haven't been outside, he hasn't eaten any chocolate. Alarms in my head start blaring.

"Did you poop your pants Gav?"

His head bobs a happy little yes.

Blood pressure rises, hands began shaking. "Where is the poop, Gav?"

"I don't know. I think there is some in my shoe."

There was more than a little in his shoe. The crocs have met an untimely demise in our "poopy diaper" garbage can. And there was more than a little tracked all over the toy room. Which brings me to the down-side of speckled carpet. I had to quarantine the area while I crawled around sniffing. The joys of motherhood. Thankfully, the other five days of the week were really good...no major disasters to mention.