During a class today, I find myself in the church building with a 19 year old to help me watch ten kids. Three are babies and two of the babies are screaming. One screams the entire time, no matter what we do. The other is just little and gets overwhelmed by all the other kids. Because all of the classes are in the portables now and no one was in the office today, we were the only people in the building. That by itself is a little creepy. but then we go out to the playground with everybody and realized that the building we left is completely locked. All 8 doors.
I discover this when Charlie is poopy after I carry him on one side and screamer boy on the other and try to go in and change him. So I go to my van to change him, as it is unlocked and contains diapers. I sit Screamer in Charlie's infant and lay Charlie on the floor of the van to change him. This is a foul diaper, as Charlie got into something he is allergic to night before last. Right as I get the diaper off Charlie, he starts playing with the poo on his balls. I am cleaning it up when Screamer wriggles out of the carseat and lands on the diaper. Nice.
It takes almost the entire 40 pack of Huggies wipes (thank you, bargain board!) before they are clean. At this point I have only checked two doors and these kids are WAY too squirmy to carry around the church, to check the rest. I open the back of the van to discover that I only have the single stroller. Fine. Put Charlie in it and carry Dylan.
All doors are locked.
I hit the portables. I check 12 rooms before I find someone and it is the ladies' class. I ask if anyone has a key, we get let in,
So we go in, and feed all the kids. The other cry-er is doing pretty well. Her mom comes to check in on her and decides that she is doing well enough for her to go to lunch with the other mommies. Cool.
Except that after she leaves, we realize that she left a lunch for Cryer’s big sis, but NOTHING for Cryer. So we are feeding her some Cheerios, but this kid is 9 months old and we don’t know what she can eat. Because of Charlie’s food allergies, I am really reluctant to feed a kid anything, you know?
The poor kid is sooo hungry. So I start looking for the emergency forms the parents fill out. Can’t find them. Call the coordinator who is home sick. Find the pages. Start calling Cryer’s mommy, but she has no cell phone. The daddy's cell phone goes straight to voice mail. Call the other mommies at lunch--one is actually running errands, the other doesn’t answer the phone any of the nine times I called and those are the only two numbers I can find. So I call Cryer’s emergency contact.
Now I have known Hannah’s family for ten years. Great people. Great parents. Mommy is usually very responsible and I can understand forgetting a bag. No biggie. I look at the emergency contact and it is also someone I have known forever. I call him, but he has no additional phone numbers for her. I consider calling Dowlan at work to google the number of Mommy’s sister in law, who is also a good friend, but at this time the 19 year old who helps me has taken Cryer into another room and calmed her to sleep.
Also, at lunchtime, two kids had departed. So I only have seven kids to myself. Which is fine, until one needs to potty.
I failed to mention that, prior to this, I have let in the guy who came to paint the walls as well as the guy who came to service the first aid kit in the kitchen. When the first aid kit guy needed to leave, he needed a signature. Again, NO ONE is in the office. So I sign. Why not?
The guy who came to paint the walls is, well, painting the walls. So I cant just send Dixie by herself to potty or a nightmare will occur. And the two kids who are potty training and want to go every time someone else goes are at the door, chomping at the bit. So I leave four kids in the nursery with the doors shut and go down the hall to take three kids potty. The two girls go in and go. The boy decides that he doesn’t really want to go. I take him back.
I should note that the painter is between the kids and me and this makes me feel both safer and less safe. After all, I really don’t know this guy. But I feel like if someone started bleeding enough for the blood to start seeping under the door he would at least notice and holler at me.
So the pottying successfully draws to a close and we go back into the room. No one is bleeding and they are all breathing.
So I get the kids on the little foam play mats. We alternate between standing up and dancing and them sitting on their squares while I engage them with my fantabulous story telling skills. The parents arrive, amazed at how engaged they are and how I have all their rapt attention. All is well...
Is this really worth $30?