Ladybugs

Let me ask you a serious question: how am I supposed to compete with the Ladybug teachers?

G moved up a room a few days ago, and he's now a Ladybug. Whatever. TODAY THEY MADE SNOW, PEOPLE. SNOW! It was just whipped cream and water, but it sounds magical as shit. They even took pictures, and let me tell you, it looked like a baby foam party in there. Thinking about the mess they had to have cleaned up made me cringe, but his teachers were still laughing and describing the day animatedly to me at pickup. They're learning new songs, making Christmas projects, reading new books, and counting to 3...but hoping to be counting to 5 soon! The EXCITEMENT of these women who had been surrounded by snot-and-cheerio-encrusted children for the last 10 hours made me feel a little nauseous.  Slow your roll, ladies, you're making the rest of us look bad.

I consider it a remarkable Thursday if G and I don't kill each other before B gets home. Projects? HA! SHOWERING is a project. NOT GETTING POOP ON THE FLOOR is a project. These women must be childcare masterminds, with their singing and their projects and their magic fucking snow. How do they do it?

Although, there was a little girl busily removing her final article of clothing at 5:30 in the Ladybug room today. When Miss A saw me register the fact that there was a naked toddler in the room, she shrugged and said: "Her mom said I could just let her go. She bites."