Anecdotes From The Toddler Room

How many people does it take to pull a plastic training potty off a little girl’s big booty? In case you’re wondering, three. Three people.

Yesterday we were happily eating lunch outside and I looked over to see little Z with a potty around her waist, the plastic bottom taken out and legs through the hole, seeming to have gotten it up without any problems and proud of her new accessory. She walked around in it for a few minutes, and then we tried to wriggle it off. It would. not. budge. The auntie’s exclaimed, “Ach, Z! Your big bums!” Z ended up lying across one of the auntie’s laps, with another auntie trying to pull her out, as I tried to pull the potty off from behind. If I’m being honest, a mental image of me sawing the potty off of her flashed through my mind in the middle of the ordeal. With the three of us pulling her and the potty, and pushing her thighs through bit by bit, we were finally able to get her out. Z won’t be doing that again anytime soon, I assure you.

While working in the toddler department, this kind of excitement happens every day. Really, if it wasn’t for the comic relief I might sit on the floor and cry with them. Except one time I slipped in a puddle of snot on the floor, and I still haven’t recovered. The toddler floor isn’t really my chill spot.

I get up for work at 6:00 am, start at 7:00am, and end at 6:00 pm. There are twelve 1 to 2 year olds, and let me tell you, it is the most energetic room in the building. Each day, I leave covered in sweet potatoes, snot, drool, juice, yogurt, and whatever else the kids manage to wipe on.  I leave exhausted and I look like a mess. I leave waving back at them as they stand at the window and say, “bye auntie! bye auntie!”, watching me walk into my house. I leave remembering all the snuggles we’ve had, the kisses they’ve given me, the memories we’ve made, songs we’ve sung, and I leave feeling completely covered in love.

At this age, they develop such a strong, memorable bond with each other and us aunties. I can hear them chattering to each other in their beds through the wall when I get up in the morning. They share with each other, fight with each other. The older kids take care of the younger ones (for the most part), and kiss them many times a day. They teach each other their own unique dance moves, and sing songs together when the radio isn’t working. The other day I looked over to see them sitting on the couch with one calling out, “HALLELU!” and the rest answering, “YAAAAAH.” Then they all clapped their hands and chanted, “JeSUS, JeSUS, JeSUS, JeSUS!” and started the anthem over again. These are the moments that will be forever fastened to my heart.