Bits and Pieces #15

• The other day after naptime in my classroom, we were putting away the children's nap things, and I found a lone sock by the sink.  I asked all the kids of they were missing a sock.  Everyone appeared to examine their feet and reported that all was fine; no socks were missing.  I was puzzled.  I gave it the sniff test (this sniff test has burned me in the past in my own laundry room, yet I continue to use it). I determined via the sniff test that it had been worn, but since no one said they were missing a sock, I thought perhaps it had somehow resurfaced from another class that uses our room.  I put it aside to handle later.  A few minutes later, we sat down on the circle rug to sing some songs and close out the day.  I sat on the rug next to one of my students and looked down to notice that he had on tennis shoes. . .with no socks.  I asked him where his socks were, and he reported he did not know.  I got up and grabbed the sock I had found, and he said it was indeed his, but he didn't know where the other one was.  I looked in his nap bin and the area where he had napped, but no sock.  About this time, I hear him, still sitting at the circle, sort of quietly saying, ". . .pants. . .pants. . .maybe, it might be in my pants. . ." And then he reached behind his back and pulled his sock out of the back of his pants!  This.  This is among the many reasons I love teaching preschool. 
• I was prepping for my Mommy and Me class the other night, and several of my kids were in the room with me.  They all get annoyed when I start surfing Pinterest for new songs to sing, which only makes me want to sing them louder and more often.  This is what makes me a great mom!  But this time, one of my kids was standing right next to me, listening.  After a few moments of joining in a bit and remembering songs he sang when he was little, my son said, "I don't want to listen to these songs anymore, Mom!  They're gonna make me cry!"  My heart ached a bit.  I understood my boy.  Sometimes those memories are so fond, so dear that the passage of time just feels painful.  I gave him a big squeeze and kiss and soaked up the moment with him, knowing in several years I would remember that very moment with a fond pang as well.  
• Dear readers, I don't know how to prepare you for the picture below.  I'm sure you've glanced at it already, and you see how terrifying it is.  Yes, that is a bamboo skewer sticking out from the nerf dart.  I discovered this archaic torture weapon last night and rethought my parenting strategies.  I disassembled it carefully so as not to harm myself or others, and then asked my boys about it this morning.  I had a suspect in mind as the creator, but I was wrong.  And the boy who made it felt it was perfectly acceptable to be in our home. He even told me that "dad was right there when I made it!". When I gently said that there must be a mistake, and dad would not indeed want our children to be maimed via a souped-up nerf bow and arrow and that I never wanted to see such a weapon again, he responded with, "But it was dad!  And he's the head of the household!".  As we circled up for morning prayer before everyone went their separate ways, I asked my husband about the weapon.  As I suspected, he was completely misrepresented, and shockingly, did not in fact think a skewer being shot through our house was a good idea.  Your takeaway here:  Never accept an invitation to have a nerf war in my house (or maybe you can now, since we have intercepted this near-miss).