In other news, I may have gotten my second wind on this solo thing. I’m doing okay today, and even yesterday with the puking. I am still trying to think of something to do. Parks are a no-go, with Toby being all kamikaze- we need two adults. And McDonald’s Playplaces are great for both babies, but you can’t really eat out every day. Oh, try to just get a drink there or something? Let me introduce you to Toby.
There is this Resource Center here that’s a community deal. They have a play area and so on. Problem: it’s through this group called Parents as Teachers.
I’ll tell you the story. So it’s billed as these play-instructors who come to your house, bring gifts and books and play with your kids and check out their development and such. I signed up, in an effort to not get reported to CPS or some such entity.
When the lady got here she was immediately all parental with me, which really does not work with me AT all.
I expect respect from teachers and such. As in, “hey! you know
your kids best and here’s some ideas we recommend but we’re sure you already know this stuff”.
NOT “well, actually, we promote something called positive reinforcement. Even if little Junior
here is jumping on the bed and juggling butcher knives, we don’t use the “no” word. Children don’t learn that way.” Snooty.
And so in my head I’m like MALARKEY and she is putting the pressure on pretty sternly about
getting little Toby here in preschool in December and I’m like OH heck no and so on. I put on my polite “you’re full of it” face and nodded and smiled her on out of my house.
Anyways, I hesitate to use their playground, lest the Parenting Gestapo feel the need to come educate me. Sorry, pet peeve. For reals.
Blah blah, right? Sheesh. Thirty years old.