I have deadlines this week for school. Does my lack of blogging clue you in to my school deadlines? I know that I miss reading all my "friend's" blogs while I am studying whether a kinesthetic teaching style has an affect on the literacy development of young children.
It is difficult to switch between preschool teacher, wife, mommy, and PhD student. Instead of writing literature reviews, I would rather draw a large picture for my professors on the white board and sing a song by Dr. Jean. In a matter of hours I switch between creating huge hats for our unit finale of Dr. Suess books and reading dissertations while trying to understand whether the statistics used were effective!
One of today's moments epitomized my struggle between these split personalities. Austin was finishing a snack before nap time this afternoon. I told him that he could watch ANY show of his choice because mommy had to work on a paper.
Without hesitation, my son chose his favorite show, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and I was soon listening to the laughs of a nearly three-year-old as Goofy displayed his pineapple underpants to the viewing audience. Not only does Goofy wear the prementioned pineapple underpants, he also talks regularly about his "stinky shoes!"
"Stinky Shoes, mom!" laughed Austin.
"Isn't that funny! Goofy has stinky shoes!"
I need to confess that I was deep in thoughts about factor analysis and wasn't really listening to Austin's glee about Goofy's antics. Before I could transfer some vital information over to my paper, I found a child size 10 tennis shoe under my nose.
"Smell, Mom!" he yelled.
"I have stinky shoes too!"
"Uh, huh, Austin," I replied. (yes, this is where mommy neglects son to try to accomplish something for school)
I should have paid more attention.
About 3 minutes later I looked up to see that Austin had stuffed his size 10 tennis shoes full of popcorn (his snack). A stinky shoe FULL (and I mean stuffed) with popcorn!
At that point, I realized my son just needed a little attention before nap time. I put my computer down.
"Okay, sweetheart, do you want to talk about stinky shoes now?" I asked.
"No mom. I want to comb your hair!" Austin replied as he found a comb under the couch. (Don't ask, I don't know how it got there, but seeing how my two year old stuffs popcorn in his shoes, it doesn't surprise me!)
The beauty parlor commenced, and before long I found my long hair combed straight down in front of my eyes.
"Mom, you look beautiful!" Austin said.
Just as I began to get sentimental and give my boy a big hug, he finished his sentence...
"Just like a TURKEY!" and then he burst out into giggles and couldn't stop laughing.
There is nothing like my son's laugh, but little does he know that I really will look like a turkey at school on Friday if I don't get this work done!!!
10 years ago