The One With The Drunk Boy

I think parents are better teachers than teachers themselves. They start from scratch with those lil rugrats, and I admire/honour/respect/laugh at parents sooo much. Their job is exceptionally noble; choosing to stick by & raise your child in a world of abortions, abandonment, toddler boarding school & space monsters. 

 

Thank you parents.

A  parent colleague who I think is super cool once told me a story I’ll never forget. I’ll use her voice now because using mine will make the text much longer and will just confuse me. So I’ll be speaking in the third person. It’s the third person, right? Is it the third person? Or 1st person? Or other person

Or creepy person?

 

I don’t know, I’ll confirm when I Google it.

Heads up... I may colour the story a little, but she gave me permission. And will I not run with that permission. My comments will be in this fun greater than/less than triangle thingies..<  >..

Her voice:

Once when my son was about 3 and a half years old, I left him home with the house help. As I always did.

Usually we blend fresh juice for him, mango, orange, pineapple, watermelon and other exotic African fruits grown in pure mineral water trickling from the Alps of Mt.Kenya down to the tributaries of the Indian Ocean<yea, she definitely said that>.

So on this day he was given his juice as usual and then left to his own devices, as the help went back to her other chores. 

Several hours <I dont think it was that long, but still> passed with no peep from the boy, and so the house help went investigating. She investigated and investigated around the house but to no avail.

But she was desperate and kept searching the house, then went out the house, into our compound, relentlessly looking for the boy. Those days we lived in a neighbourhood whose houses were far and in between<WHAT does that even mean?? either they're far from you, or in between you and another house, meaning they can't be both far from you and in between you and..okay,maybe it makes sense, I don't know>and so she had to walk for a while before reaching the main road or any other house. She was absolutely worried that the 3 year old boy had managed that amazing feat.

After almost an hour,she was pretty much close to giving up hope, and realized that the boy had actually wandered out the gate into a neighbouring compound/field/coyote pack and was now being raised by wild coyotes.

She decided to brave the scary outdoors and try look for him outside the compound, further towards the main road, before either calling me or calling me<we don’t quite call cops in these here sides of the globe>.

Right outside the gate, she found my son,

shirtless, seated on a rock, head bent & bobbing, slur-singing, with the empty juice bottle held loosely in his hand  <NO HYPERBOLING HERE-THAT BIT’S TRUE!!>.

Help: My God, My God, Eh Nyasae Mtoto wangu  (translation:Oh God my child) ..my boy

Him:*gurgle..gurgle..slur*

Help: Mwana wangu(my baby)..my God my God..

Him: the..*hic*..wheels..*hic*on the *hic*..*hic*

Help: Ngai maskini, mtoto wangu amelewa. (Gosh oh my poverty, the boy is frikking drunk & I’m so screwed!!)

Apparently, the concoction she made had..sat in..for a bit..and was now boozier than healthier, and the little child found it too much & was now drunk beyond his wits.

My poor baby had got drunk before even hitting puberty.

< I chuckled that whole day at work. And stared at her son with a whole new found respect-seeing as he was probably hangovered the entire time>

PARENTS ARE AWESOME!!!

<except when they stop being awesome and start being, “who were you with and why are you wearing that? Start earning your own money & don’t ask us for anything!!”..yeah then they’re just old boring people>

The One Where I Don't Get Weddings

So I happen to see the four and above year olds re-enact various wedding scenes during recess..scenes varying from:

(If only it were that uncomplicated, and didn't involve the in-laws and getting to know each others' gross flaws)

to...

“ill marry you then 6 minutes later ITS OVER”(again..if only-you haven’t met lawyers yet)(true story by the way. Little girl was on a make-believe phone having this convo with her make believe boyfriend. He’s lame though for proposing via phone)..

These sandpit weddings got me thinking of real life weddings, and how lame they are, and how i just don’t get them...especially in these here parts of the world...WEDDING ARE JUST NOT GETTABLE!!

So i got to wondering WHY I don’t get weddings..

1)      They’re supposed to be a celebration

Whenever I ask why weddings happen and why we have weddings and why weddings are lame people always tell me: “weddings are fun. They’re CELEBRATIONS. We’re supposed to have fun and celebrate. It’s like a big party!” Except its not! They’re the opposite of fun. Coz they’re not.

Parties are truly fun..people dance, people sing, people hug, people eat cake, drink and are merry, people talk animatedly and have fun.

At weddings, our dancing is lame, nobody listens to singers, our hugs are lame air kisses, we barely get cake, we don’t drink and aren’t merry, when we talk merrily someone’s great aunt is shushing us>>that’s not a celebration, that's a lame-bration..

2)      They’re expensive

Still on the story of parties..if someone proposes to me that I should have a party, and I think..”hmm,I really really want a party bad & can’t wait a whole year to have a party”, I’d really just whatsapp  a bunch of people over, wouldn’t decorate the house,  dish out a deck of cards, ask ‘em all to bring their own whatevers, and have a great fun party in my pjs! No Expenses Whatsoever! There wouldn’t be any meetings to plan the party-like why are we meeting to plan the party, that’s what Whatsapp is for. We wouldn’t be worried that someone invited someone else unexpectedly, because that someone else would just bring a bag of crisps and the party would continue..

But really, a wedding..with all the pre-weddings, post weddings, after weddings, honeymoons, thankyou cards, and the “celebration” itself..bloody expensive outfits, rented cars (really, do we rent cars to go to work? Or to go to church? THEN WHY TO WEDDINGS??),

rings-who needs rings-we know we’re married,innit?,the food..jeez the food,that’s a whole other story..

3)      They involve flowers

I’ve noticed flowers play an UNNECESSARILY HUGE role in weddings..

 I don’t get it.

 Basically, if you were to have a party-the simple BYOB poker party, would flowers play an important part of it?..

4)      What are we wearing?

Why are we standing so long?

Why are they rehearsed?

Why does my outfit cost Ksh.35,000/-? And it’s rented? And I’ll wear it only once?

Why do my shoes hurt?

Why do I have fake nails?

Why is my hair super-glued to my face?

Why do we stand? At parties i don’t stand-I either sit or dance, but why am I standing-especiallly if I’m the “guest-of-honour”?

Why do we rehearse? Is this a play?

Do we rehearse the simple BYOB poker party?

5)      There are old people

“Shhhh..”, hisses some old lady. “Krrrr, have some respect..”,spits some old man. 

Who are they and why are they there? 

Apparently, we’re related, and they matter, and they travelled ALL THE WAY from a location that’s UN-GPS’ABLE in a van that YOU PAID FOR to stay in a hotel THAT YOU PAID FOR to attend a wedding THAT YOU PAID FOR to eat lame food THAT YOU BOUGHT which ALL THE OTHER YOUNG PEOPLE DONT LIKE to sit on SPECIAL SEATS RESERVED FOR THEM that YOU PAID FOR even though YOU DON’T KNOW THEM to SHUSSHHH your REAL FRIENDS who have come TO TRULY CELEBRATE YOU AND PARTY not BE OLD. DO YOU NOT SEE THE RIDICULOUSITY OF THIS WHOLE SITUATION????

6)      They’re SOOO long

Okay so parties are generally long. They generally last all night long. Because they’re fun.

School lasts a particular duration, with each lesson being scheduled for a shorter period of time. Work is also structured to an average period of time..generally. That’s because those two things are BORING.

So why weddings cause you to read the entire bible, and write your own short commentary-I Don’t Know! THEY’RE LIKE A GAZILLION YEARS LONG!

7)      Everybody’s fighting

At parties nobody fights. Okay, I lie-drunk people fight, dumb people who don’t like their faces fight..but at weddings>>that grand aunt & her grander sibling are fighting because they want you to sing a particular song and dance in a particular way..*FACE PALM*

8)      Nobody’s having fun

Have I not been talking for the past number 1 to 7..?

9)      Food-sigh..where do I begin, the lines, the lack, the grossness, the awkwardness, the lameness..my solutions:

a)      Pizza for all

b)      It’s just a couple of hours..who will seriously malnourish and faint after a couple of hours without food??>>that grand aunt will, which brings me to ask again-WHY IS SHE THERE?

10)   They're lame!!!!

fine print:if any parties have been/will be/force themselves to be offended by any statement in this post and/or are planning to have a wedding and/or are reading this at a wedding and thinking WHAT NOT TRUE my apologies. 

finer print:No bride/groom was hurt in the making of this.

The One With Gum Pie

Today,I attempt my first attempt (something's wrong with that sentence..but let's digress(somethings wronger with that sentence but whatevz(somethings wrongest with using wronger but anywho(something...ahh puu....)))) at illustrative blogging.

Monday Morning Musings:<<EEeekk...that's something cool I learned in literature...like all those M's in one sentence,but I forgot what it's called...repetition? Reluctance? Rephrasing? Re..???

Anywho-back to my musings..


You know I've always wondered why we are discouraged from swallowing gum. Really. What's the worst that could happen??

 My first thought was to google the answer, or just ask someone, but I decided instead to conclude for myself.

My first conclusion. Gum would make all our insides stick together. That is our digestive system, our heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, bladder, appendix and other inside matters. We’d have one big gum held system, maybe known as the gumbo machine. Or something more creative than that. Then we’d have complications like heart constipation. Or bladder stones *YOWCH*

Second conclusion. The gum would get stuck to our throat. As we inhale and exhale it gets blown into a bubble, blocking off our air passageway. The only way to survive is to stop breathing. We die.

Third conclusion. The gum would get stuck to our organs, in a crazy way, causing them to not function as they should. Kinda like that kid at the back of the bus in that dexter episode, the one who got entangled in gum. Yeah. Except now it’s inside. We die.

Fourth conclusion. We hallucinate. I dunno why the thought of a  gum filled body leads me to think that hullucinations are the one way of symptom manifestation. We die.

Fifth and final conclusion (oh and there are many more) we’d realize we can survive on gum alone. Like no food no water just gum. Dieticians, chefs, restaurants, bars, icecream parlours, clothes stores, malls, dentists, gynaecologists, and even teachers (and doctors, news anchors, cab drivers, and receptionists [even vets, pet store owners, IT specialists, gardeners]) would shut down. Lose their jobs. Have no business. And because of this scientists and other clever people tell us from a young age to never swallow gum coz its bad for you but really its good for you, and they know that if they are not careful it could take over the world. We live forever…mahahahah (to further enforce my point I’m almost certain the other tree in the garden of eden was a gum tree).

Today, google first before you make your own conclusions. I, on the other hand, will be enjoying gum pie. Coz its gonna make me more awesome than I already am...

Averagely and sometimes exceptionally awesome me

+

Epic Gumpie!!!

 =

Super Epicly Awesome and sometimes exceedingly awesome with some stars & shiny things
& a red skirt and gold hair and gold skin me...



Simplistic post I know :./. And the layout is all horrible :o. Some text cant be read :\. And it's a shame in totality :(. But you already read it & wasted a coupla micro-seconds of your time so prrbttthhhhhhh :P!!! Plus I'm simply a Kindergarten teacher,not a robotic & space neurology & plants research lecturer and nobel clever prize award winner in the International School of Smart People...so prrrbttthhh again :PP.


Second times gonna be a charm. Hopefully.

The one with the Fussy Parent

It’s back to work week for me on this side of the Sahara. Had a lovely lovely holiday J. The perks of the job. Also the downside of the job, because I get so used to sleeping in, and not being so tired, that when I get back to work I have to contend with such conversation.

People: What’s up?

Me: Nothing, just tired. Back to work  guys.

People: Oh? Tired? Why? Don’t you just play with kids?

*cue pantomine music* 

Me: *eye twitching, palm clenched, teeth gritted, froth spewing from the corners of my mouth, lightning eyes*

This is my: You're Dead To Me Face

What I should have said: O.o WHAAATTTT!!! REAALLLYYY!!! If that’s what you think I do-sod off. We cannot even have a decent convo together after saying that. Do footballers just kick a ball? Or C.E.O's just laugh all the way to the bank? Do news anchors just reads the teleprompter?  Or butchers just cut meat? Wait, butchers do just cut meat right? Still!!!! You think I JUST play with the kids?? Really? REALLY! Guess you're just a shallow simplistic not capable of using the left side of your brain still developing homo-sapere…which you are!!!!!! ARRGGHHH!!!!!

What I say instead: *polite sarcastic chuckle*…no no no…What with the whining, the crying, the separation confusion, the depression, the sadness, the insistence on milk when others are drinking juice, the clinginess-there’s barely a moment to rest.

People: (attempting sympathy) Oh, the kids are tiring you out, huh?

Me: Actually, the kids are fiiine!! It’s the parents I’m talking about!

Parents honestly can be a handful. Granted I’m not yet a parent, there’s the notion that I don’t understand what they’re going through. Right. I get that. But Jeez Louize the constant calls, texts, write to me, tell me everything. Did they poop? Why didn’t they? Did you put sunscreen? Why are they sad? Why are they crying? What did they eat? How did they chew? Are they still crying? Oh no they’re not crying anymore, meaning they don’t miss me anymore? I want to take them back home. But no I need them in school. *SCREEEAAAMMM* *switches phone off* *switches it back on*. And on and on like that it goes. 

Honestly, honestly, the kids are fine. Awesome. Uncomplicated. They cry. They stop crying. We talk. We’re friends. As for the parents. And I write this blogpost with all due respect. And also as a reminder for me when I become a fussy, emotional parent. Just today, I was discussing with fellow colleagues about a particular parent who’s been in and out with bringing their child to school; asking my workmates if it's me, what I was doing wrong. The colleagues-both of whom are parents-reassured me that’s it's “Parent Separation Anxiety”or something like that. Apparently it happens with first time parents.

I’ve often googled “How to calm a child down”, and all those sites have proved extremely helpful. So, using those sites as references,  I decided to compile a little “How to calm a parent down” list. Teachers out there..take note.

1) Music-in the same way kids calm down, shutup, or sing along when music starts playing, I believe it would have the same effect on parents. So when a fussing parent begins their tantrum, remove your phone and play them a song or two. Better yet, hand ‘em your earphones & shoo ‘em away until their quiet.

2) Noise-jingles, jangles, rattles, bells, finger snapping, tongue clicking (sound like a Lil Wayne rhyme. No? okay..moving on).Snap your fingers as the panicked parents speak, they just may get distracted, start giggling, grab your hand and start biting it. If so, I have the number of a certain shrink. Or cop. Or a shrunken cop(its rude to say short). Either way, you better call someone.

I have a little bell key-holder and I love jingling it to the kids when they’re crying. Jingle your bells for the parents, maybe it’ll calm them down. And now I see how weird that previous sentence looks.

3) Light pat on the bum-Hey, it works for the kids. Why not the adults? No, you there, judging me..you, walking away..why not for the adults..

4) Movement. Sways, swinging, bouncing, dancing, etc calms the kids. So just grab a parent and spin them around. Grab your last paycheck too while you’re at it..O.o

5) Marijuana.

Just Kidding.

Really not kidding.

Oh snap, you're still logged in. You know I'm kidding. I'm anti-drugs you know. Thanks for reading. 

End post.

Really wasn't kidding about the weed.

it works

At the end of the day (sometimes term), we eventually have calm parents. Then I get so baffled at how these parents ultimately trusted me with their kids. Through the good, the bad, and the crappy (lots of pun intended). And-I thank you, parents who are reading this, for accepting marijuana..err...I mean...accepting me as your child's teacher. For trusting me, and letting go. I assure y'all that I'll treat 'em like my own..:-). ION if any of you know of any flavoured weed, preferably that tastes of milk..or lollipops..you know for scientific research things.

Special Milk

The one with young love...aka 'Tujuane'

Jambo jambo Citizens of Whichever country you are reading this from (this is me hoping le blog is international:))

WHAT?? Valentines day already passed?

So this post was written during Valentines day week-so if it seems a bit backdated just mentally go back 2 weeks, its not hard...promise to be up to date with international calender events from now on. Or just pull an ostrich and force y'all to go back with me. 

Enjoy :))

I've had conversations with people; not quite sure who, not even sure if these are real convos or imaginary ones, can't quite remember when,where and with who I had these particular conversations. But I insist..

I've had conversations with people on their past dating lives. These said friends would say things like,

"I first dated in Kindergarten",or 

"My first boyfriend was amazing. His name was Daddy Dennis" *was he a pimp?-is all I thought*.

P.S. Daddy Dennis is a true part of my Toddler dating years. Story for another blogpost.

Anywho now that I'm back in Kindergarten..

---OOOH maybe I should introduce myself like that to strangers,

Them:so what do you do?
Me:well,I'm repeating kindergarten for the 3rd year straight. This time hopefully I'll count 1-6 :-D and finally get this potty training thing down..---

I digress.

Its a necessary trait for the job.

What with the A.D.D and all.

Mine. Not theirs.

Oooh an aeroplane!

OH yes,now that I'm back in KG,I can see how young love can leave a lasting impression on a person. Your true true first love. Baby love,let's call it. Forget those people who say they met their first love in highschool. HIGHSCHOOL?? By then you already have a series of exes. Trust me. Or just ask your kindergarten teacher. I observe from the mantel that's my desk the interpersonal relationships between the lil tots,chuckle some and learn some more.

IN THE BLUE CORNER: We have Lil O.

Handsome

2 year old. 

Still learning the ropes with potty training. 

Not quite fluent with language. 

He loves him his yellow ladies,& treats them with extra special care-helping them with their shoes because he can't help himself with his. 

Previously,he fancied the brown Lil M,always showin his affections by running to kiss her in the morning(way to be forward)or hitting her over the head with a toy spade. Now Lil M has been left in the dark(corner)because we now have a greener, or rather lighter, pastures.

IN THE RED CORNER: We have Lil N.

An older woman,a year older to be precise. 

She goes potty by herself 

Speaks almost fluent language,in a lovely British accent(so this older women thing..its true huh?). 

DATE 1: Classroom 

The two hit it off immediately, giggling away together, tidying up together. Lil O grabs Lil N's hand and twirls (pushes) her in a romantic (unromantic) dance to some slow (nursery rhymes) jams. 

DATE 2: Playground

The two are always running off to some mischief together. She helps him up the slide, he pushes her off it-match made in heaven.

The two slowly build a lovely bond-a lovely mix of naughty and exasperating. I often find them*be ready to gasp*..sliding!!!!!!!WHEN ITS NAP TIME!!!! That's grounds for expulsion..:-D. And that means its definitely official between the two now. Atleast in Kinder eyes :)))

THE RELATIONSHIP

Lil O is a typical man around her. Hitting her over the head with any item he can find,dancing with her,always tryna sleep next to her..<NOTE I wrote next..what kinda blog you think this is>. Lil N is a typical girl,slightly jealous,always talking about him,prays for him..no really..apparently her dinner prayers always have,"..and bless Lil O..":O.

So their love was growing. And budding. But Lil O is not one to settle..he sees lighter skin & off he goes. After a weekend away,I noted that Lil O wasn't quite so taken by Lil N as usual..she ran to him,he ran away,she hugged him,he pushed her,she was aghast..and here was the convo they had(with me being mediator/translator)..

Lil N: Lil O are you my friend?
Lil O ignores & kicks the ball.
Lil N: LIL O ARE YOU MY FRIEND?
Lil O stops & stares,then continues with what he was doing.
Me: Lil N what's wrong?
Lil N: Lil O not talking to me..
Me: that's because he doesn't talk hunny
Lil N: huh?
Me:*sighs* Lil O are you Lil N's friend?
Lil O:*distractedly*friend..
Me:I see what you're doing there(which was basically that he was repeating after me,which is all he ever does)
Lil N:see he's my best friend.
Me:*laughing*who's your best friend? Him? (pointing at the guy looking under Brownskins dresstop)
Lil N: Lil O is my best friend.
SMH. Watches Lil O running to grab Brownskin's shoes. Uh oh.

Lil O isn't always there for Lil N. He forgets about her,he plays with other girls' hair,but always at naptime-he knows who to lie next to. 

Lil N gets frustrated. She tries to communicate with Lil O but he doesn't listen,she wants to be affectionate-hold his hand,meet the parents-but he shys off. But always,she knows she can count on him to hit her with a spade. I don't get it but she does.

Baby love. So fresh. So sweet. So pure. It doesn't matter whether he ignores you or not. It doesn't matter how much she nags you. All that matters is that at the end of that long day,you're still bestfriends. Happy Valentines day all y'all brown skinned ladies. For the darkies-TOUGH!

-See I told you it was backdated. But too bad you already read it. And it doesn't hurt to celebrate Valentines day twice in a year(in a month for that matter)-

P.S...

a nice cliche to end it all with:))