My week with the preschoolers: days 2 - 5

The next morning we were more ready (not completely ready) for the preschoolers. We brought:

- 2 picnic blankets
- a jug of ice water
- 2 large play balls
- numerous picture books
- paper bags for making puppets
- a box of crackers
- paper cups
- a tablecloth

The grass was still wet so we could not spread out the blankets right away. Once again we started the kids off with art. We'd found beads and lanyard and let them string. The 3 Girl Scouts appeared again and got to work.

Oh, I also had put together a schedule. I knew preschoolers (they all went to school) had schedules. And, having spent the time making one ensured that it would get changed because I also found out the camp had a schedule. A nice volunteer smuggled me a copy. The Scout dens moved from one activity to another. Couldn't some of my little ones do some of these?

I found the camp organizer hiding in some trees sneaking a cigarette (tsk tsk). He seemed stunned by the thought of having the little kids participate in some of the activities. But he was up for it. He told me which dens were small enough that we could join up with. I also learned that each day after lunchtime there was some kind of "program" that we could all watch. Hence, the firefighters the day before.

So I went back and added "magic class," "craft," and "magic show" to my schedule. Then I saw it was story time, so I spread out the blanket in the sun on the nearly-dry grass and called them together. Most of them were eager for a story but Terror Girl said she would not listen. "OK, don't listen, but let the others who want to hear the story." "NO! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" She sat and sulked at the table till the kids started listening to the story then came over to heckle - I mean ask what was going on. One of the Girl Scouts moved her back to her sulking table and eventually she came over quietly.

We had a snack then went to the magic lesson - which was way over their heads but who cares, they were quiet - then went on another hike in the woods. As we passed the path to the creek they all begged to go down, but we stayed on the path and boy were we lucky 'cause there was all sorts of scat to see along the way. Nothing excites kids on a hike more than poop. Then it was lunch time - truly lunch time - and time for the magic show.

This was better than the magic lesson though Terror Girl kept asking when there'd be a rabbit. That's when she wasn't showing me her bloody spots and asking to go to the nurse. I realized that when she was bored or just needed attention she picked at her little cuts to make them bleed again. Before she got too demanding, though, the magician produced a rabbit! This was his finale and he invited the kids to come up and pet him.

While we waited and I explained endlessly that we would get our turn, I had to demonstrate the "two-finger pat" over and over. I could really picture Terror Girl manhandling that rabbit. She ended up pulling away from me and getting to the rabbit first in our group and then cried and complained "I never got to pet him" when I moved her along.

Oh! Speaking of complaining, we got a flagpole so we were able to take our flag with us just like the scouts. So you know what that meant: "Can I carry the flag?" "It's my turn! It's my turn!" "I NEVER get to carry the flag!" "HE HIT ME WITH THE FLAG!" I had painful flashbacks to a trip to Circus Circus in Vegas many years ago with 4 of my (young) nieces and nephews, when I had to carry a little notebook to keep track of whose turn it was to press the elevator button.

After the magic show I lost my 3 Girl Scout helpers. They had warned me there were going to be "rotated" and hoped to go work in the fishing area. I wished them well even though I didn't mean it. At the end of the day I saw one of them walking dejectedly along and found out that rather than being assigned to fishing, they'd been dispatched to assist with one of the larger and more unruly dens. Should have stayed with me!

But it didn't matter because we were settling into a routine and my two "scout siblings" - my girl and another - were proving to be good helpers.

At the end of the day my husband and our dog came to pick us up. The kids loved our Max (and he loved them). Then Terror Girl's brother (one of the Scouts) came over to check out the dog and decided to try to get him to bite a hard rubber ball. My Scout told him not to do that and the boy replied "No, it's OK." No, it's not OK, it's not your dog! Oh, OK the whole family is this way. As I said goodbye to Terror Girl after taking her back to her mom, she looked at me with a stern face and narrowed eyes and said imperiously, "You'd better bring that dog back tomorrow!"

We made it through day 2.

The rest of the week flowed pretty much the same way. We had another sudden thunderstorm, but this time I was prepared with things more organized in the tent and my cellphone attached to my body so my husband could keep me up to date on the forecast. Thank God for the radar on the NWS site. We went to our activities, made a birdhouse, a flubber ball, lots of paper bag puppets, and even got to fish one day. The flag-carrying stopped being a big deal (of course) and the nature hikes were mostly fun. Terror Girl would always complain when we had to turn around (there were no loops in this park) and told me I was wrong when I said we had to be sure no one would get too tired to walk back. Then a minute later she'd complain of being too tired to walk back and asked to be carried.

The last day got was a bit tricky because it was water gun day. I'm sorry, gun is a bad word, water shooter day. One boy loved to spray people but would not be sprayed in return. There was a lot of crying and complaining but by then I was finding it easier to just put my mind in a happy place and ignore it all, watching just enough to be sure no one drowned in the little pool or hit anyone too hard with the water shooter.

Just before it was time to close up shop someone dropped off our certificates and badges. My girl got an honorary "den chief" award for helping me. She was thrilled.

They all cried when it was time to go home. The organizer asked me if I'd do it again next year. I learned that in previous years this group was not included in any activities at all. The moms were thrilled that their little ones had gotten to do so many fun things. They heaped praise on me for doing such a good job. How could I tell them I got them into the activities for my own survival, not for their enrichment?

Oh, my Scout had a great time! I barely saw him, other than running back and forth from one activity to another. He solidified relationships with some of his den-mates, learned some skills and is ready to be a den chief next year. My girl also said he'd love to volunteer next year as a Girl Scout. I'll be happy to drop them off!

My week with the preschoolers: day 1

So when we signed up for the Cub Scout camp, I had to fill out a volunteer registration and check off the areas I would be interested in helping with. Hmm... I was looking for "cook" or something similar because I was under the impression lunch was provided. As reported earlier, that wasn't happening. So, no lunch duty, what could I do? I can't teach archery, slingshots, or other sports skills, and I didn't know what it meant to be a den leader. I checked crafts and childcare. The childcare would be for the 6-and-under set of volunteers' kids. I figured I could help out there. Note the word "help."

So we arrive and sign in; my daughter, who was registered as a "scout sibling," is supposed to be assigned to a den so she could do all the cool scout stuff. I should have known something was going terribly wrong when I signed in my Scout and asked where to sign in the sibling and where to sign myself in for work. "Oh, just go down there by the preschool area. Your stuff is all there - some crafts, and t-shirts for the kids."

What does she mean "your stuff?"

So we go to that area - just 2 picnic tables - and stand around a bit. Then someone comes by and says "here's your tent, need any help putting it up?" Uh, yeah, I guess so...

Then the organizer comes by and says "I bought some craft things for your kids but let me know if you need anything more, OK?"

The awful reality dawns: I am not helping out in the preschool area: I am running it.

Soon my little darlings start to arrive. I sort through the bag of t-shirts and start handing them out. It seems like a good idea to have them all in the same color, and one different from the horde of Cubs. But one boy won't wear the shirt. "He doesn't like big t-shirts" his mother says. OK.... fine. Don't wear the shirt.

There is no registration list, nothing to tell me who is coming and more importantly: how many of them there are. But there is a pad of drawing paper and a pack of markers, so I make up my own list.

The tent goes up and we hand out papers and markers for art time. Another scout sibling, a girl my daughter's age, arrives looking for her den. 3 Girl Scouts show up and ask if they can help. Yes! Yes you can! Entertain these kids!

All in all there are just 8 of them. Except for one, they are all sweet and mostly obedient, though they have minds of their own. One is just a terror. She was easy to pick out right away when she pushed her way to a place at the table and yelled "where are MY markers?"

I start making a list of needs. Why didn't they give me any hand wipes and sanitizer? There are 4 year olds here. Where am I supposed to put their lunches? And where is my scout sibling supposed to go to do these scout activities she was promised?

I collar the woman who registered us. She agrees to find a den for the 2 sibs and takes them with her to find some fun. The 3 Girl Scouts find a volleyball and start playing with the little kids. Terror girl announces that she wants a snack. Snacks? Why didn't they leave me snacks? Soon they are all around me like baby birds. I realized that at preschool they must get a morning snack. They end up eating their lunches. Yes, at 10 am.

A little while later the 2 siblings come running back. They are disgusted. "We'd rather stay here with you and the little kids. They put us in a den with 7 year old boys and the leader couldn't control them and they were wild and wouldn't listen and we hated it and it'll be more fun here! We're hungry, too. Got any snacks?"

We start pawing through the bin of craft stuff. Hmm, everything looks pretty good, except the Bratz coloring book; that'll have to disappear. We add paper bags for puppets to our list (I knew there was a reason I bought the pack of 100 a few weeks ago), and go off on a hike. We have a flag like the other dens, but - no flagpole! Rather than carry it like a banner and have someone drop it in the dirt (over and over), we leave it behind.

After lunchtime (or what would have been if the kids hadn't eaten at 10), we saw the Scouts gathering at one corner of the park. There's a fire truck. One of the volunteers suggests we head over to see them peel the roof off a car with the jaws of life. Cool! Off we go.

Terror girl falls on the way and we have to find the nurse. We learn that the nurse knows her well and knows how to tend to her. "It's not always about you" is one of her comments. We enjoy the car-wrecking demo and then we find that the firefighters are turning the hoses on the kids. Scouts are running everywhere. Water is flying everywhere! I am scrambling to keep my little ones together so they don't get lost or knocked over. Terror girl gets away and runs right toward a spewing hose. I have to run after her. Of course she turns so I get most of the water. She thinks it's hilarious. At least she's laughing and not crying or yelling or sitting with her arms crossed angrily.

After that excitement, the Girl Scouts lead us to the creek where fishing is happening. I realize these 3 Scouts really want to fish. And maybe find some Boy Scouts who are also helping. But the preschoolers keep walking in front of people and getting tangled in their lines so off we go.

We run way across the field, far from our tent. Then one of the Girl Scouts looks at the sky and says "uh, we'd better get back to our tent!" Here comes the rain.

We dash not for the tent but to the covered picnic pavilion. There were find a table separate from the Cubs who are making an incredible noise that can't get out from under the roof. The kids are upset and want their mommies. I want their mommies too. One mommy produces a story book and tries to read it to them while I run out in the downpour - I'm still wet from the fire hoses so what difference does it make? - and get their lunchboxes and other things.

The rain does not stop. The Cubs start singing goofy Scout songs. The little ones want more snacks. Then it's 3:30 and the mommies arrive.