Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Daycare Pajama Party

Proving that I am, indeed, the caregiver you all dream of having, even if my rates are highish, my late fees exorbitant and strictly enforced, and my holidays generous... Okay, so maybe that all combines to "uppity nightmare" in your minds, I don't know. This post, however, should redeem me a bit: proving that I'm pretty all right, I celebrated Valentine's Day, the Most Romantic day of the year, by throwing a pajama party for the daycare!! Yes, indeedy, on this night of all nights, I voluntarily surrounded myself with the same tots who fill my days with love, laughter, mayhem and snot, UNTIL EIGHT O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING! So that their parents could have a few hours quality couple time. It wasn't so bad, all in all, except that little Nigel, normally a pretty happy guy, decided, starting at 9:30 this morning, to morph into the screaming baby from hell. Oh. My. He hated me all day. Hated, hated, hated me. Happy Valentine's Day, Mary P, you b*tch. Except when I was holding him. Holding was good. Mary was nice, daycare was nice, the other kids were nice, the sun was shining, God was in his heaven and all was right with the world when Mary held him. But when she put him down, the other children turned potential baby-killers, Mary had moved to the dark side, and life was not worth living any more. When I picked him up, I was rewarded with silence. Blissful, blissful silence. Or I think I was. It was hard to tell, what with all the ringing in my ears. It was good that he could take comfort when it was offered. And take comfort was what he did. Seems when he's astride a woman's hip and is feeling a little agitated, it brings him peace to clutch the surface nearest his pudgy little talon-tipped fingers and dig his claws in. And twist. I had to check, but my left nipple is still attached. It was a near thing, though. So, while holding Nigel on one hip - down-filled vests offer soft and fluffy protection from nipple abuse - I cooked dinner (put frozen lasagna into the oven) and helped everyone into their jammies. Then I wrestled him into a high chair and held his head still while I popped in that first mouthful over his heart-felt protestations. "No! No! Don't make me eat tha--gulp." And then? Then the sun came out and the angels sang, and Nigel was happy once more as he scarfed down that meal in 3 minutes flat. (And no, all the fussing was NOT because he was hungry. The boy had been eating - lots! - then refusing to eat, then eating - lots! - all day long. No, he was just playing with my head. They do that, you know.) Here, Nigel does a victory dance, having successfully divested the chair of its seat cushion. The papers you see on the floor are his doing, also. But he was HAPPY, people, HAPPY, so we just let it go. We made valentines for the mommies and daddies. We danced. We read stories. We took pictures of ourselves and looked at them in the camera. We made cinnamon buns. We did all that in the 40 minutes Nigel was happy and both Mary's arms were free. Then Nigel started to holler again. And then the mommies came - early! Yay for mommies who come early! And the mommies gave me presents! Yay for mommies who give presents! Chocolates! Swiss chocolate! Belgian chocolate! Milk chocolate truffles and candied orange slices dipped in dark chocolate! And now all the children are gone (yay!) and I'm going to bed. As soon as I eat some of this yummy chocolate.


Blogger Simon Peter said...

Splendid. I think there's an extra reward in heaven for providers of good daycare. Or at least there should be! :-)

2/15/2006 08:10:00 a.m.  
Blogger ieatcrayonz said...

You sure you're not moving to Oklahoma any time soon? It's warmer here. ;)

2/15/2006 08:44:00 a.m.  
Blogger Anon said...

I had lasagne yesterday as well. Bizaar :-)

2/15/2006 09:21:00 a.m.  
Blogger Bill said...

On Valentines day? Okay I think more than chocolate was called for here.(-:

2/15/2006 09:47:00 a.m.  
Blogger Boliath said...

Oh my god you are an angel! Where do you live again? We're moving next door!

2/15/2006 10:30:00 a.m.  
Blogger Mary P. said...

Simon: Make my mansion child-free: that will be reward enough... (Have I shocked anyone??)

Crayonz: You sure you don't want to move to Ottawa? Maternity leave, and no wildfires!

Si: How about that? Homestead had lasagna, too - think Hallmark are in cahoots with TreStella to sell more pasta?

Bill: As you know, I'm not very sentimental. We exchanged cards after the kids went home, which was fine by me. There are half a dozen lovely roses on our dining table, which I received on the weekend, but I think those may have been an early birthday gift. Not sure. They're nice either way.

Boliath: Welcome! Angel? Dunno. I thought some distinctly un-angelic things when Nigel assaulted my forefront...

Ottawa is a lovely city, but I've always heard Boston is, too!

2/15/2006 01:28:00 p.m.  
Blogger AverageMom said...

Okay, if I ever move back to the evil-ness of Ontario, you would make it better for me! I want you to look after my babies, please!! I will not only give you chocolate, I will make the chocolate by hand, first!!

2/15/2006 04:29:00 p.m.  
Blogger Susan said...

Love love LOVE that picture of the victory dance. I think it's his shoes.

And really, no wine from the mommies and daddies? If you had my sons all day PLUS a few extra hours, I would really think about bringing wine.

Or single-malt scotch.

2/15/2006 05:00:00 p.m.  
Blogger mo-wo said...

You remain in the childcare provider of my dreams camp. What a wonderful thing to do. Your parents are soo lucky.

My current childcare provider also remains in the childcare provider of my dreams camp too. Miss Fancy went into a mood sometime last Friday and it continues. I was positive that when we arrived at Camp Consistency, which is my daycare's subtitle, it would all be over. But alas it went on... N. took it all in stride though. Mind you I picked up my kid at 4:15, so you do remain the national hardass I suppose!

Belated happy valentines day to you, dearheart

2/15/2006 05:01:00 p.m.  
Blogger Mary P. said...

AverageMom: Homemade chocolate? Wow. It's probably just as well you don't live close by. What with being immobilized for a month, my jeans are already getting too tight!

Susan: I love catching year-old babies in mid-teeter! Those shoes are Robeez, , these great leather indoor-outdoor slippers which ALL Ottawa babies seem to be wearing these days.

Not a fan of single malt, but my clents, knowing my predilections, have been known to surprise me with a small bottle of Tanqueray and a big bottle of tonic!

mo-wo: "Camp Consistency"! Love it! May I borrow that?

2/15/2006 06:46:00 p.m.  
Blogger Candace said...

You rock.

2/15/2006 08:17:00 p.m.  
Blogger Kristen said...

You deserved chocolate AT THE VERY LEAST after the saintly deed you performed. I'm with Susan, I think there should have been some wine involved.

2/15/2006 09:51:00 p.m.  
Blogger Queen Bee said...

Great idea on that pajama party!! I love to have one too, even at my age...

Plus parents will be glad to tuck junior to bed early just for this special day ;)

2/16/2006 12:43:00 a.m.  
Blogger Mary P. said...

Candace: Thanks. :-)

Kristen: Wine and chocolate. And a good book!

QueenBee: It sure was cute to see them all swaddled in their jammies. Though for some of them, 8 p.m. is after their bedtime!

2/16/2006 07:34:00 a.m.  
Blogger Jenorama said...

You are a SAINT.

2/16/2006 08:09:00 a.m.  

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