Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Preschool, pimples and other torture

Doing the preschool drop-off for Lil-lil should be an Olympic sport. It takes skill and endurance. It's often gruelling, only difference is you don't get a shiny medal at the end.

Preschool at 9am, there's parents, teachers, kids and siblings. Bags, water bottles and lunchboxes flying around. Some kids are crying, others are throwing things. It's chaos at its finest.

There are two kids at Lil-lil's preschool who have assigned themselves to making my job tougher (don't they realise I already have 3 who do a stunning at job?). They see me, glue themselves to my side and trip me up with their chubby feet and curly questions as I try to wave goodbye to Lil.

"Corinne, how old is the baby?" The same kid has been asking me this everyday since I was six months pregnant.

"How did the baby get out? Did it hurt?"

"Why does the baby eat your boobs? Can he eat an apple?"

"Does Lil have head lice?"

"What is that big red thing on your forehead? It looks sore."

"Your tummy is really big, do you have another baby in there? Are you sure? I think you might."

Then while dodging questions about my adult acne and oversized girth (which, believe me, is always a pleasure), I'm trying to stop snotty-nosed kids from smothering D with their crusty fingers. All while gathering up Goosey before she tips a puzzle all over over the floor (that I'll struggle to put back together) and say goodbye to Lil.

It must be something about five year olds, as dropping Goosey off is a pleasure in comparison. One thing for sure, I'm not cut out to be a preschool teacher!

Have you had other people's kids ask you 'interesting' questions?


  1. hahahaha!

    This is hilarious, & yet not of course hilarious for you when you're responding to all of those 'out of the mouths of babes' questions.

    If it's any consolation, I currently work in mental health & get asked all too often from disinhibited schizophrenics 'how far along I am'?


  2. Oh I remember that too. I used to put him in the ergo sometimes to get him away from the snotty kids who would always be the front of the line to touch baby D.

  3. I spent the morning in a doctor's office listening to screaming children and watching children run wild throughout, popping through doors when their mom was checking in...changing the tv station that everyone else was trying to watch.
    It was exhausting having to be in the same room as that...I think my ovaries shriveled up while I waited and my uterus sealed shut.

  4. Hee hee.
    This year I was showing my prac student around the school when one of the gorgeous little kids I taught the previous year came up and squealed "Oh Mrs B. You brought your son with you!!!"

    My praccie was 18.
    Magoo was 2.
    I'd only been back at school part time for a year.
    Thanks kiddo.

  5. Oh my goodness Corinne! I laughed hard at this, great post :o)
    Isn't the preschool drop off just awful!? I have had similar traumatic drop offs like yours. Though some of those kids you're dealing with sound shocking :o/
    I seem to receive a plethora of questions the minute I get in the door. I get told lots of things I don't necessarily want to hear either. One day, a little boy told me how another child's Dad had died. I was so taken back, I was lost for words. So I stood there stuttering and stumbling and trying to get away, but he kept saying it. They definitely have no qualms about revealing all at that age.
    And I often say to the teachers in Angus' room that they deserve more money AND more holiday's ;o) xo

  6. Uhh, this is such a cute story! It is truly difficult for a parent to explain these things to a preschooler. Hence, it is a phase that we all have to go through.


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