Memorable Moments
Each day when I pick up Colin from school there's a daily report, which not surprisingly tells me all about his day. There's the nitty gritty basics: what he ate/drank, start and end times for his naps, and more info on diaper changes than anyone wants to read here. On the reverse side is a detail of the curriculum. What they did for art (yes, infants do art every day beginning at the ripe old age of 6 months!), reading, music, self help skills (learning to hold their own bottle, use sippy cup, crawl and hold things at the same time...), etc. etc.
But the best part of the note is at the bottom of the page... a "memorable moment". Every day the teacher tells you something specific about your child. Something they did, or an amusing or just a new trick they showed the teachers, a little something to let you feel like you were part of their day. This note is the saving grace for me, helping me deal with the fact that I'm missing out on scads of memorable moments while I'm at work all day. And this is not to say that I don't appreciate our daycare. The teachers are wonderful, Colin adores his classmates, and I truly think he is getting a great head start. It doesn't make being away from him any easier, but he's getting a jump start on his education and he is developing social skills a lot earlier than he otherwise might. But I digress...
The point is, on Friday Colin had a two-part memorable moment:
She also mentioned that they had the soft steps for practice. These are a set steps made out of something soft (hard foam?) that they use to help teach babies how to climb stairs. There are 2 steps, a small "landing" at the top, then a ramp on the other side so they can go down. Normally, Miss Jill said, the babies will try crawling up, then they pause at the top. They carefully check out the landing, then look with trepidation at the long steep slide down the other side. They hesitate. Only then do they consider putting their hands out and testing the slide. Vee-e-e-ry carefully. Most babies, that is. Not Colin. She said he went up the steps, and without so much as a millisecond pause he went over the top, down the other side, and rounded the bend to make another pass.
I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not. When Colin sees something he wants there is no consideration for possible consequences, and nothing stops him. He just makes a bee-line for said something. He'll crawl over me, his father, toys, shoes... anything to get to what he wants. He'd crawl over the dog, but she's learned to get out of his way when he's in motion. Go figure!
And if he's in our arms and sees something, well, I think this photo tells the story quite well. Colin didn't care one bit that he was 2½ feet off the ground, with a sleeping dog under him. He wanted the remote, so he grabbed for it. Period. I won't talk about his father's panic, or the trouble I got in for taking a picture instead of grabbing the boy and helping. That isn't really relevant. *snicker* *smirk*
I am SO in trouble. This kid is fearless. Please... PLEASE... let him take up tennis or or baseball or football. Even golf. Anything so he'll be busy at practice and won't have time to take up some neck-breaking X-game activity. 'Cause if this kid has half a chance he's going to be on the half-pipe at age 4 doing tricks that would make Shaun White blanch, and I'm going to need a really secure padded room.
But the best part of the note is at the bottom of the page... a "memorable moment". Every day the teacher tells you something specific about your child. Something they did, or an amusing or just a new trick they showed the teachers, a little something to let you feel like you were part of their day. This note is the saving grace for me, helping me deal with the fact that I'm missing out on scads of memorable moments while I'm at work all day. And this is not to say that I don't appreciate our daycare. The teachers are wonderful, Colin adores his classmates, and I truly think he is getting a great head start. It doesn't make being away from him any easier, but he's getting a jump start on his education and he is developing social skills a lot earlier than he otherwise might. But I digress...
The point is, on Friday Colin had a two-part memorable moment:
- PART I: Colin had crawled into the kitchen (in the classroom) and while there his teacher pointed out our family photo, a closeup of H & me. Colin looked, went straight over to the photo, then lick/kissed my face over and over. As if I wasn't already wrapped around this kid's little finger??? Sheesh!
- PART II: In the classroom they have containers for each different type of toy. Bookshelves with soft books, teething toys, cars and trucks, bins of stuffies, soft blocks... you name it. Apparently on Friday the teacher had turned around for just a moment (famous last words). She turned back to see Colin. With one of the bins. The bin was turned upside down, and Colin was standing on it using a nearby baby swing to steady himself. She hurried over to get him before he tumbled, and at the look of concern on her face he just giggled. Her exact words were "I told Colin he should save his acrobatics for when he has a gym."
She also mentioned that they had the soft steps for practice. These are a set steps made out of something soft (hard foam?) that they use to help teach babies how to climb stairs. There are 2 steps, a small "landing" at the top, then a ramp on the other side so they can go down. Normally, Miss Jill said, the babies will try crawling up, then they pause at the top. They carefully check out the landing, then look with trepidation at the long steep slide down the other side. They hesitate. Only then do they consider putting their hands out and testing the slide. Vee-e-e-ry carefully. Most babies, that is. Not Colin. She said he went up the steps, and without so much as a millisecond pause he went over the top, down the other side, and rounded the bend to make another pass.
And if he's in our arms and sees something, well, I think this photo tells the story quite well. Colin didn't care one bit that he was 2½ feet off the ground, with a sleeping dog under him. He wanted the remote, so he grabbed for it. Period. I won't talk about his father's panic, or the trouble I got in for taking a picture instead of grabbing the boy and helping. That isn't really relevant. *snicker* *smirk*
I am SO in trouble. This kid is fearless. Please... PLEASE... let him take up tennis or or baseball or football. Even golf. Anything so he'll be busy at practice and won't have time to take up some neck-breaking X-game activity. 'Cause if this kid has half a chance he's going to be on the half-pipe at age 4 doing tricks that would make Shaun White blanch, and I'm going to need a really secure padded room.
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