I have all this stuff!!

I have a ton of things to say. I can't seem to make myself sit down and write it. I need to, though. Not writing makes me spiritually constipated. Who the hell needs that???

So let's see here.

I'm missing my kids. My own, I mean. This time of year, with both of them, was those few precious weeks after they were born. Matt was born on June 22nd, Lyssa almost exactly six years later on June 18th. If you care sufficiently to do the math, this tells you that there were two Labor Day weekends that we really had nothing else to do.

They were little blobs of humanity that made adorable squeaking noises and smiled in their sleep. Melted my heart every time. It was such an amazing thing to hold those tiny people. One of my friends, who reproduced long before I did, told me in her first few exhausting days as a mom, "I thought I knew what love was, then I had Lindsey."

I smiled and listened to her tell me how wonderful that baby was. And she was, too. Sweet and round and pink, perfect skin. Angelic smile.
But I didn't really get it until I made one of my own. I doubt anyone really does until that point.

Those first few weeks they spent snuggled up and listening to my heartbeat and sleeping, mostly. Or demanding food and more snuggling in the middle of the night. I wish I'd known more with baby #1, I would have done things a little differently. But of course #1 is always the experimental model. I'm glad Matt was resilient in so many ways.

So I'm missing the babies.

I miss the adults they've become, too, but I'm not sad.

The adults they became are out in the world, being decent people.
I'm so proud of them both.

But early summer when the skies are that gorgeous deep blue, the flowers are blooming, July 4th approaching, I remember those babies and how it felt to hold them and how full my heart was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So work is proceeding as it usually does, I am not a huge fan of summer programs being run by this organization.

The summer site where I am working is okay in a few ways, but mostly a Mongolian Clusterfuck.

I had a little difficulty at first keeping my mouth quiet (or mostly so). But I will speak out when it's in the best interest of children, so I have had a little to say to our slightly-older-than-a-teenager summer director.

Mary's a nice person. And just because she's young doesn't mean she's stupid. She isn't. But she *is* a bit clueless.

I finally decided that I can ignore a lot of stupidity and airheadedness. Yes, I know that isn't a word that's currently in the dictionary, but I know what it means and admit it, you read it and you know, too. So that makes it a word.

Last week, a boy introduced himself to me. Shook hands, was polite and mature and friendly. This was observed by the camp director and her friends. Er, co-workers.

When I walked back over to finish setting up the painting project, Mary joined me. She said, "Yeah, Jerry has issues. He is disrespectful and hard to manage. Now that he's on medication, it's better, but he's a lot of trouble here."

I said something noncommittal, she wandered away to do something else and I finished what I was working on.

I didn't have a lot of interaction with him that day, he doesn't seem to really love art projects. He likes building things and running and knocking things over and acting like a child. I haven't seen him cause any trouble.

The next morning, Jerry came in with his dad. He got busy with his friends right away, building something in the corner. His dad walked over to Mary, they chatted for a moment, then Dad pulled a medication bottle out of his pocket. He popped the lid off, said, "Give him this at lunchtime," dumped a pill into her hand, stuffed the bottle back into his pocket and sauntered out the door.

She walked to the cup dispenser, got a paper cup, dropped the pill into the cup and put the pill in an unlocked and accessible-to-children cabinet.

Oh my god.

So I immediately walked to her and asked if we could talk.
"This is your site and your program, and I won't tell you how I think it should run or how you should do things. But what you just did is a very serious licensing violation. This is one that can get you shut down."

She looked surprised.
"What?" she said. "What violation?"

So I explained the childcare division rules about prescription (and non prescription) medications.

The medicine needs to be in a container labeled by the pharmacy with the child's name, prescribing physician, dosage etc. And is to be accompanied with a note from the doctor with instructions for administering the medication. A piece of paper goes into the ziplock bag with the bottle with a place for the staff person to initial and document the fact that the child has indeed been given the medication on schedule and as prescribed. And all of those things need to be in a LOCKED medication box.

This is not a procedure with any wiggle room. A person with a brain should know this. A person who is responsible for the safety of children has to know this.

And now she does.

To her credit, she thanked me for the information. She said that all the information/training she has has happened through watching what other people do. That she had no idea.

Oh good heavens.

They've failed to make sure kids are sunscreened, something else I brought up. Those kids spend FOUR HOURS a day outdoors.

Because they don't have enough things for them to do indoors and they lack the creativity and experience to find those things.

Since this isn't my first experience with summer camp, I do have that experience. A ton of it. I won't bore you with the list of what I brought again, but I will tell you that even with six large bins of art supplies and building materials, I am still understocked. But I'm working three days a week, I'm able to use the stuff I brought for multiple uses, and I'm able to relate to kids, regardless of location.

It's crazy, but I can manage to hang out there for the rest of summer. It won't be my favorite placement ever, but it will work. More or less.

There are other things driving me insane.
I can't leave my stuff out when I go home. I brought plastic storage bins and some boxes, and when I leave, all my yarn and other things get packed up. A lot of it comes home with me. I keep it in the trunk and unload it as needed.

I made the mistake of handing a small bin of yarn to Mary one day as I left, saying, "This is only for adults to hand out, I want to try to keep my supplies for some other projects."

When I returned to site the next time, two of my skeins of yarn were hopelessly tangled and cut in so many places it was impossible to get a piece of yarn more than two feet long, one was missing completely, and one had somehow ended up in the art room at the other end of the hallway.

I didn't bother saying anything to Mary and the Minions. Since I'd already made it clear that I expected it to be taken care of and they weren't able to manage that, it seemed sort of pointless to bring it up.

I just don't leave my yarn there now.

There's more to say. But damn. Getting close to bedtime.
Next time, okay?