Basic Things Your Kid(s) Should Know Before Going to Daycare or Summer Camp

Don’t get me wrong, I love children. They’re what I want my career to be, whether that be social work or teaching or what have you. Right now, I teach a “summer camp” at a local church daycare. After going on several field trips and spending a ton of time with these kids, ranging from age four to twelve, I have learned a few things about how stupid parents are. These are just a few simple, easy things that your children should know before being put out into the world without their mommy.

1. Share

Seriously. You have no idea how many times a day I get the “Miss Patricia, (name) took my (noun)!”. As if it doesn’t get annoying enough, it’s usually delivered by a small child with an extremely high pitched voice, and right in my ear at a high decibel level.

Do us all a favor: teach your kids to share. Give Billy the Power Ranger Blaster for ten minutes, then take your turn. If you can’t tell time, get one of your teachers to let you know when ten minutes is up. If you’re afraid of your teachers, don’t be. If you’re mute, then you shouldn’t be in my class, because that’s just stupid.

More importantly, my darling little angelic charges who will never read this need to understand this thing: I have eyes. I am probably totally aware of the fact that (name) has your (noun), and I am probably finishing giving lunch out or wiping down tables or putting in a DVD or helping fix a toy so that I can get up and go get (noun) from (name). Patience, Jedi, patience.

2. Keep Your Hands and Voice to Yourself

This one isn’t too hard either. I get the “Miss Patricia, (name) keeps (verb)ing me (preposition) (noun)!”, or “Miss Patricia, (name) called (name) a (explicative)!” Look, guys. Your bottom goes in the bottom of the seat, your back goes against the back of the seat, your hands stay on your food slash Game Boy slash book slash craft project. If you’re not doing anything, but you’re watching a movie, keep your hands in your lap or something.

Do not hit back or anything of that nature. This is one of the unfair things in life. If Cassie hits Bianca, some form of uproar is going to happen when the initial hit happens. By the time I look up, if Bianca hits back, what do I see? I see Bianca hitting Cassie. I never saw Cassie hit Bianca. This probably lands Bianca in time out and gives Cassie a glare. Is it fair? No. Can your teacher help it? No. So why risk it?

If your kid is an only child, put them in daycare at a young age and give them a reward chart or something. Keep them in the mindset that keeping your hands and your voice to yourself means a reward. If your kid has siblings, practice at home. Please for the love of God stop giving me your kid who spazzes out whenever one of the other kids blinks off kilter.

3. Listen to Your Teacher

This should really go without saying, and is generally Mommy or Daddy’s fault. If we’re on a field trip, and Jimmy isn’t listening, and then Jimmy runs in front of the swings when I tell him not to and some kid on a swing pummels him in the back, when Jimmy’s parents come to pick him up, I need to tell them what happened to Jimmy, being sure to mention the fact that Jimmy’s listening skills are on the fritz.

What does Mommy/Daddy/Grandma/Papa do?

“Well you should have been watching him!”

What. The. Hell. I was watching your kid. If I hadn’t been watching your kid, I wouldn’t have warned him in the first place, because I would have been too busy helping Alicia at the slide to notice Jimmy in the first place.

Use your brain.

The other thing that happens is that Peter won’t listen. Not just one incidence of this, but several. We can ask him to clean up his lunch trash or to go into the movie room or to clean up his toys, but he still won’t do it. And worst still, when we inform Mommy/Daddy/Grandma/Papa of this, (s)he says:

“Haha, Peter. Haha.” And pats Peter on the head or something while saying “Silly Peter!” Oh yeah, silly Peter, who was distracting us and unearthing our ire so much that we were too preoccupied with him to notice that Beth has wandered off into a ditch and skinned her knee.

If I have to kiss one more scrape better because of your kid, I’ll scrape you. Don’t think I won’t, either.

4. Just Because Your Teacher Isn’t As Old As Mommy, She’s Not A Pony

Seriously. So, Taylor’s babysitter is fifteen and I’m sixteen. So, Taylor’s babysitter plays pony with her.

I am not your babysitter, I am your teacher. If I give you a piggyback ride, I have to give everybody a piggyback ride. If it was a smaller class, I would totally give you a piggyback ride. Unfortunately, there are sixty kids here, and I am so not playing Pony with the other fifty-nine children.

Don’t push me.

Don’t throw your toys at me.

I am not your maid.

I am not your punching bag.

I’ll play with you if you ask nicely. I love Mancala or Guess Who or that game where you stick the stuff together and make ramps for marbles.

I do not love putting you in time out.

Not too hard.

5. I Am Not Miss Jackie/ Miss Ashley/ Miss Christina/ Mister Josh

“Hey, Greg, why is your Game Boy out?”

“Miss Ashley said I could play with it.”

“Am I Miss Ashley?”

“No?”

“And the name of the teacher in the room is...?”

“Patricia?”

“Is ‘Patricia’ the same as ‘Ashley’?”

“No?”

“Care to put up the Game Boy?”

“No. /continues to play Game Boy/.”

This happens way too often. There’s one adult in the room. This would be me. If Mister Josh told you to go jump off a cliff and kill yourself, but then he left the room, would you still jump?

Hope not.

So don’t disrespect my authority.

Okay, thanks.

6. Nor Am I Your Mommy or Grammy

I love hugs.

I love hugs from children.

I love children.

I do not love it when six children are clinging to me and crying at the same time.

Look, darlin’, I’m sorry you skinned your knee, but I’ve got to put out snack and put in a movie. If you want to use my lap as a cushion during the movie, fine. But there are a ton of other kids here and I’m the only teacher and if you’re clinging to my ankle and heaving like a banshee, I can’t get my work done.

And how bad does it look when your boss walks by when there are four children clinging to you going “Please hug me?”

(Answer: not too good.)

Author’s Notes: I notice things a lot. Rest assured I’ll update again. Heh.