Jingle Bells....

 

NOISE. And more NOISE.

The construction of a new school building across the street from my bedroom window and also right next to the school I work in (not the same school... wouldn't *that* be convenient?!?!) assures that I am hearing construction noises from the time I get up in the morning until I get off work in the evening.

I can live with that. Really. The schools are desperately needed, the ones being replaced are falling apart. They're not up to any sort of codes... earthquakes, accessibility, safety. They're too small for the number of children they're required to accommodate and they're musty, moldy and decrepit.

And although I know there is an incredible amount of waste* in the system, I voted in favor of the bond measure that is making the new schools a reality.

*I consider a great deal of the whole system a waste... which you know already if you've been with me for very long, but it's what we have. I can't change it or fix it or do anything to make the system different. And I want kids to be safe, cared for, cared about. So I voted for it, even though I have a fundamental disagreement with what I view as warehousing kids.

Annnnd back to the topic at hand. Someone needs to rein me in when I start to digress. When I do that, I always think of Megan, the little girl I had in my Girl Scout troop from the time she was a seven year old. She chattered all the time. If she stopped talking long enough for someone else to start, she interrupted them as soon as she could catch a breath and do so. A constant stream-of-consciousness monologue. She was funny and cute and had a lot of interesting things to say, but couldn't stick to a topic.

We were on our way to OMSI one evening and she was doing her usual.
Lyssa marveled aloud, "Wow. You even interrupt yourself."

I guess that's what I'm doing, too.

OMG, there I go again!!

Okay. So the construction company doesn't seem to understand the meaning of noise ordinance.
From our city's municipal code, public information for anyone smart enough to look it up...

A. Construction. Construction work involving excavation, erection, demolition, alteration or repair of any building or structure shall be lawfully permitted only between the following hours except as permitted by legal variance:

Monday through Friday:    7:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m

Saturday:    8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.

Sunday:    10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.

I have contacted the city by phone three different times during this construction process. The first time I talked to the guy, he told me that the construction company had asked for (and received) a variance for the super early hour(s) of noise.

But one of the mornings there was a cement truck parked outside my bedroom window at FIVE.
Mr. City agreed with me that five was 'a little ridiculous'.

I called him three times. One of the other times was because they were out there at 6 AM on a Saturday.

FUCKING NO.

So Mr. City tried to tell me that the construction guys were 'behind' schedule.

I laughed at him.

"Um, no. That's a bullshit excuse. If they're behind schedule, then they should not be leaving at two or three in the afternoon. There's still four or five hours of daylight every day that they're just ignoring. I'm not buying that one from you and you shouldn't be buying it from them. You're not, are you?"

He said something about them 'obtaining a variance' for "some" of the infractions.

I laughed at that one, too.
Asked him how a piece of paper or permit helps me sleep on the weekend.

So last weekend, October 28th, those happy motherfuckers were out there at 7. Backing up their trucks and slamming around. They started hammering at 7:10.

I was fuckin' pissed.

So *this* time I emailed Mr. City.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hi Mr. City,

We've spoken on the phone more than once about the rules regarding noise and early morning construction projects, specifically the new school.

They were out there at 7 on Saturday morning, October 28th. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. Close your eyes and imagine. I'll wait. CRASH! SLAM!! Yell and more BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

While you're at it, imagine this.
Working people who get out of bed at 5 AM the whole damn week hoping to get a little extra sleep on their day off.
People who are helping to pay for the new school.
Imagine how pissed off they are at this point.

DO NOT tell me that they're 'behind schedule' because if they were, they would not have gone home (or wherever the hell they went) at noon on Saturday!

The truth is that they don't give a rat's ass about who they're disturbing or what kind of mess they're making.

So what's the point of a noise ordinance if they don't have to follow it?

This is going to be my last contact with you regarding the issue, so I wanted it in writing.

Last time we talked, I thought you had it handled.
I may be a lowly wage slave/taxpayer, but at this point you can add grumpy to the front of that.
I will be making calls and pitching a fit to anyone who will listen after this.

It's completely unacceptable for Skanska to disregard the law.
Please let me know what you've done about this latest infraction after you do... something. Anything.
I'd really love to have this crap stop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I did receive a response, which included his phone number, 'in case you'd like to call.'
Um, Dude. I have your number already.
That's why I called you THREE DAMN TIMES. You're getting an email because I wanted it in writing this time.

So I emailed him back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for the reply.

When we talked before about the noise ordinance, you said that not only were they required to obtain a variance, they were to communicate with the people who would be affected by the noise.

I still haven't heard anything from them.
Wait, bad choice of words.
I've heard from them so much that I'm pretty much done listening.

What I *meant* was, there has been no communication from Skanska or anyone else regarding the disruption of my more or less peaceful home life with construction noise outside the legal hours.

I don't let you know every time it happens, you'd be hearing from me daily. They never wait until 7 AM during the week, it's always at 6:15 or so. They might wait to start hammering until as late as 6:45 but they start moving their beeeeeeeeeeeeeping equipment much earlier. Believe me, that's just as loud as the other things they're doing.

Since I have to go to work early, it's not as ridiculous as the weekend attacks.
Still just as illegal, but not as ridiculous.

I realized though that the cumulative effect is really starting to aggravate me.

And that since they're getting away with starting early every weekday, they really don't see a difference in being jerks on the weekends, too.
Construction guys can be sort of... limited.
Bless their hearts.

I understand that the new school is desperately needed.
I work in the district.

But I don't believe that the relatively short duration of the construction means that my family and the other families in proximity to the project deserve to be treated disrespectfully. It's way past time for someone to fix this problem.

Obviously the construction company doesn't care. And since they're getting away with it, and have been doing so since it started, why should they?

I'll be interested in hearing what gets done about this,

Susan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Susan,
We’ve contacted Skanska, DAY CPM, and the School District about the noise issue. All parties involved (above and beyond Skanska) aware that there is a problem and that construction activity can only take place during permitted hours.

I’ve also sent a formal warning letter to the School District as the property owner, and Skanska as the contractor. With the formal warning in place, the City can take further action if a repeat violation occurs.

Thank you and please contact me if you have any questions or concerns,

Mr. City
I figured that the issue was over. Hopeful that they'd stop with the ridiculous shit, mostly on weekends. Hell, I get up at 5 during the week, that isn't upsetting me. The repeated incidents (DAILY) of them starting an hour ahead of the ordinance haven't really concerned me because I am gone around that time during the week. But it is still outside the law. And I goddamn want to sleep on the weekends!!!!

So when I came home from work on Wednesday, my husband was waiting to tell me that the construction company had stopped by. He walked into the momcave and came back out with a gigantic gift basket.

There was a nice handwritten card from the construction company boss. Included were business cards from the site manager with their contact information and an invitation to call 'any time'.

Eric said they tried bullshitting him with things like being 'behind' and that he laughed at them. Told them that he's been in the business for more than 30 years and when you're behind, you don't go home at noon.

The guy also wanted to act like just because he 'applied for a variance' it was okay. And Eric told him the same thing I said up there... a variance doesn't help the neighbors sleep on the weekends.

Anyway, the basket is full of stuff that I don't like and won't use. I will probably give it away here and there.

Haha, my Christmas shopping is done.

Anyway, I'm hopeful that I can sleep in on the weekends.
That's really what I cared about in the first place.

And I found it hysterically funny that they stopped by while I was working... as usual about an hour and a half ahead of where they should be. :-D

Um, where's the 'fuck off' button?

Apparently Microsoft wasn't content with the constant aggravation of their stupid automatically downloaded into my computer 'GET WINDOWS 10' thing.

Now, they are going to automatically download it into people's computers unless you manually disable the updates.

I just did.

If you don't want Win10 forced on you, look up your particular operating system and how to disable the automatic updates and go do it.

Pisses me off that I had to. It's like going to a used car lot and finding exactly what you want, only to be forced to buy the shitty beat up lemon that's been sitting there three years and pay extra for it. No choice.

So although I know just enough about computers to be dangerous, I don't want to change mine. I don't want a goddamn touch screen. I want them to leave me alone.

So this has been your public service announcement for today.

And in the fuck off department... woke up this morning at 3 with what has to be one of the top five worst headaches I have ever had. Oh. My. GOD.

I usually have a migraine pill stashed next to the bed. I can't open the fucking things without either scissors, a razor blade or a knife. They're so hard to get into. It's another thing that just pisses me off, actually.

A person with a migraine is already cognitively impaired, or at least I am.
Add getting out of bed at 3 AM in a COLD damn house, staggering around without a flashlight because I can't FIND mine, it went missing over the weekend and I haven't seen it since, my feet got frozen, I had to get water and spilled it all over myself when twisting off the cap, had to pee, had to get the pill down... all as simultaneously as possible.

Then I went back to bed and was cold and sick, sick, sick. I was sure I was going to puke. So glad I didn't. But that pill I took at three AM? Didn't really start working until almost six. I don't know if I could have driven to work if it hadn't finally kicked in. Then I had nausea until nearly 8. The nap I had after all that was sooo appreciated. Not long enough. But good.

Anyway, I took care of the Microsoft issue.

You've been warned. :)

Get Off My Lawn!!

What's the equivalent of a curmudgeon for women? And no, it's not 'bitch'.
Although I don't really have a problem with that label, either.

On Thursday morning I was running around trying to get ready for work. I was running just on time, no time for extra shit. And bangbangbang on the other door. The one we don't use. Which always means it's someone I don't want at my house.

I opened the other door. I was obscured from their view by the vegetation between doors. Said irritably, "Can I help you with something?"

And they stepped around the flowers and bushes toward me. That's when I saw their Bibles and Watchtower magazines.

"Oh. Never mind. I'm not interested." I said. "And next time don't ignore my fucking signs." SLAMMED the security door, slammed the lock and the deadbolt. Slammed the inner door and shot the other deadbolt.

I say all the time that I have no wish to deprive anyone of their sincerely held religious beliefs provided those beliefs do not cause anyone harm in any form. I don't need to convert them to my way of thinking. I realize their religion brings them serenity and confidence. That's great. Go, them.

But I consider it a form of harm (it makes my ass hurt) for them to show up at my door and try to proselytize. The doors are clearly marked with no soliciting signs, too. It's just rude to knock on the door when you know you're not wanted there.

I have commented to religious people before that they've ignored my sign and they say (righteously...hahaha) 'We aren't selling anything.'

Oh yes, you are. And I ain't buyin'.

So I ordered these. One for each door. There is no excuse to ignore it as far as I'm concerned. And my response to the asswipe who knocks on the door after seeing this sign will probably be more forceful than the last one.

I had to stop at the grocery store the other day. I was coming out of an aisle and turning left. There was a woman to my left coming toward me in the middle of an extra wide aisle with a shopping cart full of foliage. To avoid making her stop for me, I just kept going straight on the left, thinking I'd pass her and then move to the right.

She steered her cart toward me and smacked into my cart! Said, "You're on the wrong side of the road." And I told her, "Fuck you." I wish now that I'd made a big issue of it, yelling and ranting and scaring her half to death in the process. She made an affronted face and scampered off behind her cart full of grass and other shit. Stupid cow. She probably ate all that grass.

It pisses me off when people have to be assholes just.. because. I stayed over to the left to avoid getting in her way.

I dislike being bothered at home. It used to not bother me to be interrupted at home. To have people dropping in. Part of it is that the house is usually not ready for company. When we had kids at home, I used to say some variation of 'excuse the mess but we live here.' Now it's just us and things aren't better. If anything, they're worse because I am always doing something that's more important to me than the housework.

In addition, Eric grew up in some.. interesting circumstances. And he had trust issues way back in the beginning stages of our relationship. His home is the one place he can go to get away from everyone/everything and I jealously guard that privacy for him. It's become very important to me to preserve the house/haven and make it a place just for us.

So get off my lawn.
Unless you called me first and warned me that you were stopping by.
My friends all know this. And respect it. So when someone knocks on the wrong door, I always know they're not welcome. If that means I'm a curmudgeon, well, I'm okay with that.

uh. wat?

On my outer doors (both of them) are NO SOLICITING signs.

I suppose I should not expect something with no moving parts to work properly.
::sigh:::

Yesterday afternoon, Eric was stripping off his clothes in the kitchen.

No, not the start of some kinky ritual, just his routine when he gets home from work. Boots, shirt, shorts, socks and underwear come off (in that order) and go into the hamper and he goes to the shower.

So there was Eric in his underwear, poised on one leg like a stork next to the dishwasher, pulling off the last sock. Everything but his underwear was already off.
And the doorbell rang.

"SHIT!" he said.

"I'll get it." I told him. Although in retrospect, I should have just looked out the little window and realized it was some illiterate numbnuts fuckstick who wanted to sell me something. Which made him decide to ignore the fucking sign. I don't know why I opened the door at all.

I opened the other door, the one next to the driveway. That's the one we always use, and when someone rings the doorbell and stands at the other door it's a dead giveaway that it's an uninvited guest. He walked over to the driveway from the other door and started to talk. He stepped toward me with his hand out, but I pulled the screen closer to me, stepping inside, ready to shut it in his face and he halted.

You know, I ignore my telephone when I don't recognize the number. Usually when I look the number up later on my computer, it's a 'you won a cruise!!' scam or a sales call. Wyndham Resorts called me so many times over a six month period that I named the number. Every time "Ignore" called, that's exactly what I did.

Oops. I've digressed.

Point being, why didn't I just ignore the door? There is no law requiring me to answer my door or to be courteous to someone who's been rude enough to ignore my sign ( which is my official request for privacy in my own damn home), but my innate need to be polite, drilled into my head for many years by my parents takes over.

He started talking fast, as they all do. He opened with, "I saw your no soliciting sign and ordinarily I wouldn't bother you, but..."

He wanted to sell me siding. I waited for him to take a breath in his spiel, then I said, "You know, I really hate it when people come to my house and try to sell me shit."

He looked taken aback and wished me a nice day. Or rather he wished my door a nice day, since I'd closed it while he was still looking at me.

I was pissed off and I wished that I'd taken the business card he tried to offer me. So I could call the company number and complain.

This afternoon, as I was working on the dehoarding and organizing and getting stuff ready to donate, the doorbell rang again.

I went to the door that's in my bedroom, at the other end of the house, but couldn't see anyone standing outside. Decided to ignore it.

I went back into the kitchen about the same time the doorbell rang again and someone pounded on the screen door outside the kitchen. I looked at the arm-waving silhouette and thought it was Matt, so I opened the inner door. I reached to unlock the security screen and then realized it wasn't Matt, it was some chick who was either unable to read/comprehend 'no soliciting' or she was just stupid.

"Yes?" I said.

"Hi!!" she said, perkily. "I was just wondering if you'd like help cleaning your house. If you have stains that just won't come out?"

"I was wondering if you had seen my no soliciting signs."

"Well that's positive, Ma'am. You have a nice day."

Eric wanted to know if I'd called her a bad word or otherwise done anything, and the answer is no. I didn't. I merely closed the door and shook my head. I may have asked out loud, "What the hell is making people so stupid?" as I walked back into the back of the house.

But I refrained from calling her names or saying anything rude. She was a bubbleheaded teenager. Stupidity is part of her being. No reason to make her feel bad.

But I do NOT like people coming to my house to sell things to me. I don't care what they're selling or giving away ("We're not selling anything, we want to make sure you're going to HEAVEN when you die!!!") either. If it's Girl Scout cookies, well, I buy them from the kids at work. Anything else, I buy it from Amazon or Goodwill or some other damn place... at a time of my choosing. I don't like being bothered at home. I tolerate it from friends/family, and would never turn one of them away, but I prefer some warning. Either the house is a wreck (most likely) or I'm naked and covered with peanut butter. (not as likely, but it could, theoretically at least, happen.)

So please don't stop by and try to sell me something. You could come over and ask for a cup of peanut butter, I guess. 

People of Walmart

I had to go there on Tuesday. ::sigh::

Needed some underwear for the man, and buying it at Fred Meyer is twice the price for half the amount. My family's bottom line (haha... BOTTOM line... oh my goodness, I just slay me!!) is important enough that sometimes I have to do things I hate to help us out... like heading for Walmart.

Like it or not, sometimes I just have to get stuff there.

This time? I liked it not.

As I approached the building, there was a very tall and very black man standing right in the middle of the entrance. (Suldog pointed out in the comments that just saying he was "very black" seemed... wrong. So here's the rest of the 'black' thing...)

First of all, you know how people of African descent are every color from coffee with cream to black black? This guy was the blackest man I've ever seen.

He was wearing a black cowboy hat with a hatband made from either black pearls or black plastic beads... my cursory glance said pearls, though.

Black kerchief/bandana around his neck, black silky shirt, black leather thigh-length coat, black pants, black cowboy boots with I swear four inch heels.

And a black cane.

He was singing religious songs and preaching to everyone who walked by. He was difficult to understand except for the frequent shouting of "Jesus!" and "Are you SAVED?!?!"

Shit.
I hate stuff like that.
I understand that he's either a religious fanatic or mentally disturbed (in my book any sort of fanatic is disturbed, really...) and probably not to blame for his erratic behavior.

But I don't need it. It's just... extra shit. I don't need the aggravation, the unease of not knowing exactly what kind of crazy I'm dealing with, and I SURE as hell am not interested in anyone's brand of religion or their personal beliefs, as I have my own set.

I just wanted to go in, get some damn underwear and get home. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and pretended to be talking to someone and ignored him as I walked by. He looked toward the sky and commented loudly to his God, "Oh my LORD, anuddah one on da phone!"

He smelled very strongly of sweat and there was also a medicinal smell about him. I'm guessing alcohol, but I didn't ask.

As I walked in to the store, there were a couple managers heading for the door, saying, "Yes, he can be in the parking lot but he can't be bothering people as they walk in."

I assumed correctly that they were going to ask him to move, as I could hear him loudly arguing with them, saying that God told him to stand RIGHT THERE and that he was just 'respectin' God.'

I put it out of my mind until I heard him shouting IN THE STORE. He was walking up to people and trying to share 'good news!'

The same managers walked up to him a couple aisles away and told him that he could shop there but that he must leave people alone, and that if he could not, he needed to leave the building.

I guess he opted to leave, because as I walked out to my car after accomplishing the great underwear mission of 2012, he ran at me from three or four cars away and started talking at me.

I ignored him and kept walking.

He followed me to my car, still talking. Reached out and grabbed my arm to detain me as I started to climb into the car.

And I jerked my arm away and told him to fuck off. And slammed my car door in his face. He stood there, still talking as I drove away.

I briefly entertained the idea of going past there on my way home this evening to see if he was still there, but thought better of it. Decided I didn't want to know.

Usually when I see someone who, um, needs a little help, I manage to avoid getting anywhere near them. I don't know why I got harassed today.

Good news, though? I bought 14 pairs of underwear for Eric. So it will be awhile before I must return to Sprawlmart.

Too Many Choices?

The company is losing revenue, and the big push is on. They're offering bonuses to programs that can bring in new kids and an even bigger bonus for getting a family back after they've left the program.

Here's a news flash, oh corporate guys at No Name Childcare INC... the economy sucks. You can't wish it away. You can't incentive it away, either. Your 'thinking' time (if that's what you want to call it) would be better spent battening down your own personal hatches, methinks.

People aren't always leaving our programs because they're unhappy... many families can no longer afford after school care. LOTS of kids are going home to empty houses.

The economy has been in the news lately. Perhaps if some of you were to turn on a television or the radio instead of sending out memos you might hear about it? There is even information about the economic downturn (aka Depression) on the internet!

So. The bigwigs came to visit our site on Monday.

We have a new boss-of-the-bosses.

The program I work in is the most successful one in our area. We're always at or nearly at capacity, (we are licensed for 39) we usually have a waiting list, and our program is almost always full for the fall term before school gets out for the summer.

This is not luck. Both Sunshine and I work hard to make it a place where kids enjoy themselves and parents feel good about leaving their kids.

I know I've mentioned before that we spend our own money on items we think the kids will enjoy.

Some of my purchases include a pool table (I think it's 1/4
size?) that sits on top of one of the cafeteria tables. The kids love it. I also found a foosball table at Goodwill. It sits on the floor, and on days we have foosball, the kids eagerly gather around, waiting for their turn.

I bring in many craft projects. I furnish yarn and other materials not included in our budget. I got some of the yarn at Goodwill, and my mom bought quite a lot for me at a yard sale. It wasn't free, of course, but fairly inexpensive. I figure if it keeps the kids busy it's worth the money. Back when I was making $10.00 an hour, and spent $9.99 on something for the program that kept them entertained for hours, I felt like I was getting a good deal, ya know? Now that I make slightly more than that (I will never get rich doing day care) I still feel like it's worth the investment I've made when the kids have fun.

When I'm out and about and find something that I think they'll like (and I have a little extra cash in my pocket... two events that do not always coincide, unfortunately) I go ahead and buy it. Sometimes I have a particular child in mind when I bring in a project, sometimes not. Occasionally, a kid I'd never expect to goes nuts with a project or game. I bring in science projects, too. After years and years of homeschooling, I have many supplies and ideas for experiments. It never fails to attract an instant crowd when I say we're going to do a science experiment.

Sunshine buys things for the kids, too. She's constantly planning new activities, teaching them a new gym game or encouraging their interests. She's always bringing in something fun.

We both take things seriously. We want to be successful in our program. Not because we're going to get a big raise or garner any prestige, but because we like the kids and want them to have a good time. Both of us did time in daycare as kids, and hated it. We don't want the necessary evil that is after-school care to be a torture for the kids who have to be there. They don't have a choice.

So, enter the corporate entourage. They all studiously ignored me. They also ignored our site assistant. She's a cute just-past-high-school girl who is wonderful with the kids and seems to really like her job.

Now I don't crave pats on the head or official notice, but I know that if the situation were reversed and I were inspecting program sites, I would observe ordinary good manners by introducing myself to the staff. You know... common courtesy.

The first thing out of her mouth when she talked to Sunshine was, "You only have 39 enrolled? Where I come from, that's a small program."

She didn't say it with any other intention than to look down her nose, either. One had only to note the tone of her voice to catch that. Subtle she was not.

(By the way, isn't there an old saying about catching more flies with honey than with vinegar? Although if you really want to catch a lot of flies, nothing beats a dead goat. And once you catch a bunch of flies, what good are they? But once again, I digress.)


Um, hello? We have a maximum legal capacity of 39 kids per day. Any more than that, and we'd be operating outside the law. You might check into it. I know I don't draw a big, fat corporate salary, and don't have a piece of paper to prove I'm smart, but this is a DUH. Geez.

Oregon requires a certain amount of square footage per child in a day care. It's non-negotiable if one wants to keep their license.

So we can work really hard to boost enrollment, but we'll have to turn 'em away at the door. That ought to improve the bottom line, huh?

The corporate person then proceeded to wander around the room, looking at what we do.

Offered on Monday were the following activities:

Homework area. On that table are an abacus, a thesaurus, a dictionary, paper, pencils, rulers and other assorted things to do school work with.

Pony Bead animal craft.

Pool.

Foosball.

Ping Pong.

A whole area just for Bionicles.

Science table. Magnifying glasses and seashells and rocks and wood. Microscope. A set of balance scales and assorted weights. 2 liter soda bottles with tornado tube attachments. A book about tarantulas with views of the insides. Magnets and GeoBoards.

Dramatic Play cart.
On that cart are Polly Pocket toys (three doll houses complete with every little creature imaginable) puppets and a puppet theater, play money, play food, a cash register, a set of Star Wars Legos, Tech Deck skateboards and a skate park, dishes and silverware, dress up clothes and shopping baskets.

Art Cart. (stencils, paper, markers,a spirograph, several drawing books, coloring sheets, mazes, water colors, paper punches, construction paper in all shades, paper edger scissors and regular ones, too, stapler, brads, glue sticks, colored pencils,crayons, regular pencils and erasers, yarn, gimp, popsicle sticks, pipe cleaners and stamps with stamp pads.

Game Cart. Mancala, Checkers, Spoons, pick up sticks, 3 versions of Monopoly, Scrabble, Chess, puzzles, dominoes, Connect Four, Stratego (three different versions of that one, too) Life, Risk and Sorry.

Lego Cart. Legos (LOTS of Legos, more than any other program, thanks to me and Goodwill) blocks, marble run, Lincoln logs, Duplo blocks, hot wheels track and cars, a whole village for hot wheels, some weird construction toy I don't know the name of, K'nex, and Gizmos and Gears.

We also have a reading area with a huge cart full of books and 10 beanbag chairs.

Each of the areas has a large rug. The rugs are printed and bright. We have hopscotch carpets (you've probably seen them in your pediatrician's office) rugs with roads and railroads printed on them, a rug that features the USA, and a big, plush carpet in the reading area.

We have a snack area, a gym right through the nearest door, and lots of time for all the activities. We have a schedule which I've gone over here before, and the kids know what to expect and when to expect it.

It's day care, yes. But we really try to make it a decent experience.

So she wandered around, pointing things out to Sunshine.

First on her list? We're offering the kids 'too many choices.'
I shit you not. She actually used those words.

"You're offering them too many choices."

Oh yes, by all means. Let's limit their choices. Because... um, why is that again?

Next?
We have "too many" tables set up. (We have 10. Three of them are used almost exclusively for snacks.) Okay... and since there are kids at each table, doing different things RIGHT NOW, we need to take some tables away because????

Here's another good one. Our daily snack routine requires the kids to line up and wash their hands, five kids at a time. (A staff member is in the hallway to observe, since they can't legally be out of our sight in a group. Individuals can go to the bathroom alone, but only one child can be there at a time.) So Monday, we were told that we can no longer have all the kids eat together at snack time. We must limit it to groups of 16. Eat in two or three shifts.
Why? Who knows?
I don't. Sunshine doesn't, either.

Well, she pointed out this and that... I'm a couple days away from getting a full report, I think. I'll get bits and pieces of it from Sunshine as the week wears on, I'm sure.

Basically, she needs to justify her existence and her big, fat salary by bean counting and being critical. She can't just come in and call it a good program, right?? If she calls programs good, she's out of a job.

I'm sure all programs (ours included) can do things better or in a more efficient way. No one is perfect. That's one reason we're constantly changing, adding things, and carefully observing the kids. We want things to be done right.


For example, the economy.

Yeah.

People don't HAVE disposable income. Those who do dispose of it by buying groceries and luxuries like toilet paper or paying the electric bill before the due date.

Also, many of the schools in our district have a large percentage of families who are living at or below the poverty line. They're not likely to spend 50 bucks a week to have their children in day care after school. If one has to choose between a roof over the child's head or an after school program, I'm hoping ALL of them are smart enough to choose to pay the rent.

So whatever.
I'll keep doing my job.
Keep working for who I REALLY work for... the kids.
:)

Which one

Would you prefer to have ringing your doorbell while you're trying to get out of the house? A vacuum cleaner salesman or some kind of religious nut?

Just curious. Could you let me know right away so I can tell them where to go if they come back?

::sigh::