Not A Great Day

I've included the first names of most people here, with the exception of those who come off badly and those in direct authority. In one case, they are the same person. Everyone mentioned by name and the manager of the centre was brilliant in all stages of this event.

It's been rather stressful recently at work. My team-leader continues to be a nasty person, the issues with the now-quit (thankfully) breaks cover were imaginabily bigger than I thought (and I thought he was a crazy b*st*rd), and we have been given a whole lot of new children all at once.

So I sent in a letter requesting a room change. I am not working with my crazy, b*tch of a room leader for a minute more than I have to.

To give you an idea of what she's like, I'll tell you about our beautiful day today.

Nicholas came in for lunch, very quiet and withdrawn. He had a few mouthfuls, then went back onto the verranda. He became clingy and cried silently. Katherine brought him inside and checked his temp. Normal.

Erin came through at this time, and also noticed that Nick was not himself. She has dealt with Nicholas having alergic reactions before, so she got him to stick out his tongue. Swollen. We start giving Nick fluids (because his parents insist each time that he's not having an allergic reaction, he's just dehydrated, so they give him water and panadol).

The team leader (TL from now on) decides that this is a great time to order me to leave Erin with Nick (even though he's having an alergic reaction) and HELP HER WITH THE CLEANING.

Instead, I phone all three of the numbers I have for his parents, and can't get through on any of them. Each phone call leads to a worse statement of Nick's stats. By the end of the third, he's having trouble breathing, so Nicole goes to get his epi-pen. I phone our manager to phone for an ambulance. Erin holds Nick, Nicole tries to administer the epi-pen, but can't because her hands are too sweaty and shaky. I give him his epi-pen. It takes until the count of 5 before he can breat well enough to cry. The manager has come in by then, and she and Erin take Nick to the office while Nicole goes out to flag down the ambulance.

And my TL? She keeps on cleaning.

Katherine and I run about, helping get the other children into bed (a reliever was outside with the rest of the children, except those in bed), and getting together all of Nick's belongings. TL keeps on cleaning. Except to ask Katherine if she can stop getting Nick's things, and can instead help with the cleaning.

Katherine ignored her.

Shortly later (just before the ambo's arrived), TL wanted Nicole (who was outside to FLAG THEM DOWN SO THEY DON'T HAVE TO SEARCH FOR THE PLACE) to come back inside, so we can "get back on schedule". "It's not like he'll be by himself," she said. I told her I didn't think so.

Nick's mum arrived, and she went with him in the ambulance. TL then went off for 40 minutes to cry about it, while everyone who actually did anything, held the room together at least until it was their lunchtime.

I have honestly never been so ANGRY at anyone in my life!

Priorities! Nick could have DIED! And she was more concerned about sweeping rice off the floor. I am absolutely disgusted.

Nick is fine, btw. Nicole is the most shaken by the experience. I am too angry to be shaken. I have my meeting with the manager about my request to change rooms tomorrow, and believe me, this is going to be mentioned.

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Stephen the Giant Killer

Stephen was over, and there was a fly in the house. (No, Stephen was not the fly.)

The fly flew out of Kallie's cupboard, where it had been hiding, and settled on the floor by my room. Kallie shreiked to Stephen to kill the fly. So he stomped on it.

With his BARE FEET.

GROSS!

For some strange reason he didn't understand why we weren't impressed.

Kallie made him wash his feet, and sprayed them with disinfectant.

Stephen spent the next 20 minutes soliliquising about his feat of amazing daring.

GROSS!

Put On Your Happy Face

So last Wednesday I went home early feeling sick. I made it through lunch with the kids (the chaos time) and then left.

At lunch, Flick looked at me and said, "Sam, SAAHM, where is your happy face SAAHM?"

I told her my happy face needed panadol.

(Not strictly true, all my faces are non-responsive to panadol except my fever face. My happy face needed Nurofen).

So I went home, took Nurofen, went to bed, got up, and realised I only had 2 nurofens left.

So I took them, and headed out to buy more.

On the way I saw... Haison, who works nearby. I waved, because in my doped up state I thought, "Oh, random Asian I think I know. Must be from church." Two steps on, I realised that that was HAISON.

Thank goodness my happy face had plenty of nurofen, because otherwise, it might have been my angry, punching face he would have seen.

On the bright side, he didn't recognise me. After all, he hasn't seen me since before I got glasses, let alone a head-covering.

And that, my friends, is a good reason to have a Happy Face.

Mistaken for a Jew

I’ve recently been convicted about wearing head coverings. Mine don’t completely cover the head, and Kallie found it hilarious that my first religious head coverings come from the store “Diva”, which is not exactly known for its modest accessories.

Anyways, I’ve been wearing them pretty much all the time, and had been for 3 days when on Friday evening I went done to Trampoline for some delicious ice-cream (they make dairy free stuff too).

The girl who served me has seen me there several times, but today she was extra friendly, and at the end said that she hoped I had a great dinner with my family.

I said I had ice-cream now, so of course I would.

I was not having dinner with my family, and I wondered why she would say that. I got halfway down the street when I realised… she thought I was a Jew wearing a head-covering because I was having a Sabbath meal! (My area has a very large Jewish population. So much so that when parents ask me where I live, their next question is, “Are you Jewish? I didn’t realise.”)

I thought it was hilarious.

Not Exactly, Meggie

I was changing a display on our walls, and a few of the kids asked me what I was doing. My standard response whenever they ask me what I’m doing is: “What do you think I’m doing?” because they usually know, they just want to make conversation, and it gets them using their expressive language.
So when Meggie looked at me and said “What are you doing?” I said, “What do you think I’m doing?”

She thought about it for a second, and said, “You’re up there so we can’t reach you.”
I nearly fell off my ladder for laughing. Guess she would have reached me then!

Puritans and Philistines

On the way to prayer I spent some time reading a book on the puritans. They’re interesting, and underrated (even if difficult reads) .

So I got there and people wanted to know what I was reading. I would just flash them the cover, then go back to the book.

Shaun looked at it and asked, “Who are the puritans?”

I explained that they were the English Reformers who strove for greater purity within the church and their personal lives, and sought to bring all aspects of living under the command of Scripture.

I also said that if someone calls you a puritan now days, they probably don’t mean it as a compliment. They mean that you’re a killjoy.

“So they’re different from the Philistines then?”

New Lego Play-Set - UK Edition

Matches and petrol sold separately, Facebook and Twitter accounts not included.









Thanks Step for emailing them to me.

Thanks Keith

Because of the KFC Father's Day item, I come into the main service late, so I get to hang out at the back of the church. Just like school, the back of the hall is where all the dodgies hang out. I fit right in.

When communion came round, Keith (head of all dodginess) said that we should go forward and make sure they didn't miss us. I think he's been missed before. I, on the other hand, have been at the back for a few weeks and have not been missed once. I guess the communion servers realise that I need all the help I can get.

Besides, I'm allergic to half of the communion, and I told Keith so.

"Yeah, I bet it's not the cup. You'd never be giving that up."