It Was One Of THOSE Weeks

This has been One Of Those weeks. 

Monday, I tried to replicate a recipe using spaghetti squash instead of spaghetti. I baked the spaghetti squash too long, however, and instead of the flesh shredding into long, spaghetti-like strands, it came out mushy. And when you (over)roast a vegetable like spaghetti squash that has a high sugar content, it turns very sweet, which did not lend itself to the recipe AT ALL. Imagine really sweet but a little grainy mashed potatoes with garlic, onion, mushrooms, and parmesan cheese, and you might see why, although we worked at it like little soldiers, neither my husband nor I could finish the dish.

I'm thankful I learned that roasting a spaghetti squash too long removes any resemblance to "spaghetti" and magnifies the "squash" part of it. And that I can say REALLY POSITIVE THINGS like "well, it's different, but it's not too bad" and it's not going to change a recipe gone really, really wrong. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

In my Primary class (3 year olds turning 4) on Tuesday, we were making a very, very, VERY messy valentine project with feet painted red and pressed onto paper in a heart shape. It's cute but labor-intensive, as it requires my assistant teacher and me to paint the bottom of each child's foot, press it onto paper, then wash their feet in a dishpan of warm, sudsy water, dry them off, and help get shoes and socks back on. 

As we were washing one little guy's feet, he said he liked warm, soapy water, so I asked him if he wanted to just get in the dishpan and take a bath.

"I can't do that! I wouldn't fit! And I'd have to be naked!"

Then he leaned over to me, cupping his hand by his mouth and stage whispering to me, "And everyone would be able to see my BALLS!"

While the foot printing and washing was going on, one of the girls, holding a baby doll, announced to me that girls sometimes have babies in their tummies. 

"Yes, they do, but not until they are alllll grown up and married," I said to her.

"And have graduated from college and have a good job," my assistant teacher added.

The little girl just gave us a look and went on with playing, and as we were elbow-deep in warm, sudsy water, we went back to the business at hand of washing red paint off of feet, but when I looked up to spot check how the kids were doing while playing in their centers, I saw the little girl stuff the baby doll under her shirt.

"Miss Dyanne! I have a baby in my tummy!" she announced.

"You're married, right?" I asked her.

"Nope!" she said, yanking the baby out (rough birth).

I'm thankful I can laugh silently when need be. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

In Pre-K on Wednesday, my class had a page to color at table time right after arrival. It was a drawing of three snowmen, and the kids were to trace part of each snowman (I believe it was the hat and head) before coloring the picture. Tracing and coloring is something we do often (working on those fine motor skills, you know). One of my boys was either yanking my chain or just in need of a little attention, because not long after he arrived and was SUPPOSED to be tracing and coloring, this is what went down:

4 year old boy: Miss Dyanne? Do I trace the hat?

Me: Yes, you trace the hat.

(short pause)

4 year old boy: Miss Dyanne? Do I trace all the hats?
Me: Yes, trace all the hats.

(short pause)

4 year old boy: Miss Dyanne? Do I trace the eyes?

Me (teeth slightly gritted): Yes, trace the eyes.

(short pause)

4 year old boy: Miss Dyanne? Do I color the tie?

Me (taking a deep breath first): YES, color the tie.

(short pause)

4 year old boy: Miss Dyanne? Do I color THIS part of the snowman?

Me (closing eyes and counting to ten): Yesss. Color EVERY part of the snowman.

(short pause)

4 year old boy: Miss Dyanne? What about THIS part? Do I color it?

Me (eye twitching): COLOR EVERYTHING ON THE PAGE! EVERY HAT. EVERY EYE. EVERYTHING.

4 year old boy: Oh, okay.

I'm really thankful he's very cute....

Oh, we also did a painting project in Pre-K, only this time I painted hands to make a valentine picture. The only problem with the project was, well, you can see what happened when we tried to wash it off:

Painting a hand pink. 

After washing the hand, it is now stained red....

But wasn't the end result worth it? See the heart?

I'm thankful that it really WAS washable paint, and none of my kids came to school on Friday with red-stained hands.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

On Wednesdays, our students can bring a lunch and stay until 2:00 for an additional fee, and it was my week to stay as well. I'm going to spare you a whole lot of detail here (and this is a thankful for YOU), but let me just say that even our Toddlers (who do not have to be potty trained, and this is key to the story) are eligible to stay. While the kids were finishing up their lunch, one toddler boy got up from his chair, and when he did, he left something in the chair that was not pretty. And let's just say that for some reason I ended up being the one who got clean up detail, and it took half a container of baby wipes to get him cleaned up (and I am not exaggerating).

I am thankful for disposable gloves. And Mentholatum for dabbing under the nose before attempting to clean up a disaster of this nature. And for Mr. Doug, our building custodian, who stood outside the bathroom door and handed me wipe after wipe from the baby wipe container ("You need MORE?!" he would exclaim each time I stretched my arm out towards him. I'm telling you, this was a mess of monumental proportions.) And for Miss Debbie and MIss Ruth, who held down the fort while I was cleaning up the toddler (and let me say right now that if this were your child and you were at home, you would strip him and put him in the shower to hose him off; if you were NOT home, you would look for the nearest dumpster and throw away the clothes he was wearing) and then brought me gifts the next morning of cocktail peanuts (because I needed a cocktail after THAT incident, but I don't drink) and Little Debbie Swiss Rolls (because I love them). Oh, and a bunch of Baby Ruths in my in-box. Ha ha ha ha....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Thursday morning in Primary class I had one marathon pouter, one cry because she wanted her mom (this after a scuffle over a toy), one wet her pants not once, but twice, and one burst into shrieking sobs at the snack table because, "She made mean eyes at meeeeee!!!" (pointing to another child across the table). 

Some mornings, only three hours with my preschoolers isn't enough time. Other mornings, I'm thankful it's ONLY three hours.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

My daughter turned 17 on Thursday. Wow. If you haven't already, you can read her birth story here. I promise there is nothing gross or disgusting. I'm thankful that I'm still here to celebrate her birthdays, because that wasn't a given on the day of her birth.

Opening gifts with a little help from Ruby.

Emma with her birthday flowers
FROM A BOY....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Friday, we celebrated our 50th Day of preschool in Pre-K with a 50s themed party. Party days are my least favorite days at preschool, so I'm thankful that one's over. 

If I can find thankfuls in a week of poop, wet pants, bad cooking and more, then you can, too. Link up with us, this week and every week, at Ten Things of Thankful.

<div align="center"> <a href=" https://summat2thinkon.wordpress.com/ten-things-of-thankful/" rel=”nofollow” title="Ten Things of Thankful" target="_blank"><img src="https://summat2thinkon.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/10thankful-banner.jpg?w=700?w=700" alt="Ten Things of Thankful" style="border:none;" /></a></div>

 Your hosts

A Fly on our (Chicken Coop) Wall, Amycake and the Dude, Considerings, Finding Ninee, Getting Literal, I Want Backsies, The Meaning of Me, Thankful Me, Uncharted, The Wakefield Doctrine

Join the Ten Things of Thankful

An InLinkz Link-up