"____ the Shell" - A Passtime for All Ages

Each week, Ryan's camp has a different theme. The first week was "Circus Arts & Crafts!", the second was "Dinosaurs!", the third was "Fun with Science!", the fourth was "Puppets!", and the fifth was "Fun with Books!". (I'll let you in on a secret: the exclamation points, although enticing, are incredibly misleading...)

The theme for this week, the 6th and final week, is "Down by the Shore!". The teacher, Mrs. Hunsberger (who can't possibly be older than 21 years, is married, and has a legitimate teaching degree), asked the group of 4-7 year-olds, "Where does sand come from?" I fondly reminisced, in my mind, that I had asked myself the very same question a week ago when I was standing on the Atlantic Ocean shoreline. My fondness quickly transformed into embarrassment when I realized that she was actually expecting, like, a real answer. My eyes darted around the circle as I tried to figure out if anyone else knew. Was I going to be outsmarted by a bunch of 4-7 year-olds?? Luckily, I was not. The teacher asked a few more times, with a look on her face and a tone in her voice that seemed to say, "Come on, dummies, you should know this!" (I must point out that she never offered a real answer.)

We watched 15 minutes worth of internet educational videos about fish and sand. I learned something that kind of blew my mind- did you know that a lot of sand is the result of digestion from the parrot fish? "Ingested during feeding, coral rock is ground up by the pharyngeal teeth. After they digest this it is excreted as sand thus at times creating small islands and the idyllic sandy beaches of the Bahamas and Caribbean." Small islands?! From parrot fish?! Pretty cool, huh? But that only explains some of the sand. Now, I'm not stupid- I know that sand is bits of ground up coral and rocks. But I still don't understand where it all comes from. There's just sooo much of it, unaccounted for (according to me).

Mrs. Hunsberger whipped out the next activity, which consisted of a plastic grocery bag full of large shells chunks of coral. We'll call this activity "Pass the Shell". Each item was passed around the large circle, starting with Ryan. He didn't seem too enthused, but I made sure he let me see each item before passing them along. (I revert back to my childhood at the sight of crayons and passing games.) A couple of shells were making their way around when a little girl named Ashley decided to turn the activity into "Listen to the Shell". Each child followed her lead. (As did I.) Another girl, Gracie, ruined this new version of the activity by obnoxiously voicing, "My brother told me it's just the blood in your ear that you're hearing! It's not really the ocean!" (Brat. It is the ocean. Your brother doesn't know sh**.)

Back to "Pass the Shell".

Mrs. Hunsberger and her assistant decided that the next object to go around was a sponge, but it was obviously a piece of coral. (Score 1 for me! Who's stupid now...) Another large shell came out of the bag. Ryan's buddy, Cory, creatively changed the activity to "Smell the Shell". Each child followed his lead. This time, I did not. I am extremely sensitive to smells, so I don't tend to intentionally smell anything that might be questionable, such as shells. I was very amused by the comments that came from this new version of the game. These are direct quotes that I documented:

Sam: It smells like COW MANURE!

boys: (giggling) Yeah!

girls: EWWW!

Cory: This one smells like bart!

Me: Like what?

Cory: Bart. That's barf and a fart.

(Of course it is. what was I thinking?)

Reagan: It smells like a STINKY OCEAN!

girls: EW!

Sam: Actually, it smells like PIG MANURE!

boys: (giggling) Yeah!

girls: EWW!

Cory: (to Sam) Do you have scissors at your house? Like, real scissors?

Sam: Yeah...

Cory: Can you invite me over so you can cut my nose off? It smells so stinky!

boys: (giggling)

Ashley: It tastes like a mountain!

This is where I stopped listening and busted out laughing with Mrs. Hunsberger.

Apparently the game had evolved suddenly and unexpectedly into "Taste the Shell".

Lazy Post

I don't have a whole lot of time to write a new post right now (most of my free time is being devoted to my new sewing hobby), but I thought I would post this link that Carrie emailed me because I love it. (She said it made her think of me...I don't know why...)
Enjoy!

http://www.cracked.com/article_16475_20-baby-products-great-traumatizing-infants.html

What's your favorite? I love #19! I want one.

No, not ME!

July has started out splendidly.

I was sitting next to Ryan during "circle time" at his camp today, when I noticed that he was fidgeting with his ear. I had already given him a long lecture on why it's not ok to pick his nose at camp, so I was annoyed at the thought of having to come up with a convincing ear-picking lecture. Before I could open my mouth to say anything, I noticed a tiny white object resting at the entrance of Ryan's ear. My immediate reaction was to try to get it out, but my hand was intercepted by Ryan's. His chubby little finger shoved the object further into his ear so that it was barely visible. I had to think of something before the object disappeared and ended up in his brain....or wherever the ear canal actually leads to.

I went to the camp director, whose solution was to hand me a pair of pointy tweezers and grant me access to an actual nurse's office (the nurse is off for the summer, but her room was unlocked). I felt very official when I asked Ryan to lie down on the typical nurse's office patient bed (sans the sanitary paper sheet) and then I lit the spotlight next to him. I directed the light towards the ear and tried to devise a plan on how to maneuver the tiny tweezers into the tiny, dark hole and capture the rogue nugget. I was barely in there when I had a flashback of this story: There was a family that used to be in my congregation at church. One day, the mom was cleaning out the youngest daughter's ears with a q-tip. She went too far into one ear, and the girl passed out.

I froze, tweezers in hand, and realized that I had no idea how far I could go into Ryan's ear without making him pass out. I handed back the tweezers, and Ryan and I were on our way. His mom couldn't get ahold of their family doctor, so I was instructed to take him to the ER at Grandview Hospital.

I'll spare you the boring details of the ER visit; anyone who's ever been there with a minor issue knows how boring and annoying it is. Not that I would prefer to be there with a major issue, but I think you know what I mean. But the highlights of the trip were:

• Ryan telling me how hungry he was every 2 minutes. (To which I responded each time, "Well, when you stick things in your ear that don't belong there, you don't get to eat lunch when you're hungry."

• Overhearing (eavesdropping on) a conversation between a girl I would estimate to be about 14 and what sounded like her father, over her cell phone. The conversation went like this: Girl- (mumbling incoherently), Father- (something insensitive about her reason for being in the ER), Girl- (mumbling...gradually getting louder) "But it hurts realllly baaad!!" (followed by over-the-top crying that you would expect out of a toddler). The most entertaining part was that her mother was sitting there with her and never comforted her or tried to stop her from raising her voice. No wait, the best part was Ryan staring directly at her the entire time. I didn't stop him because it was taking all of my strength to not whip my head around and stare at her myself.

• The number of times Ryan repeated the phrase "No, not me!" in situations where it completely did not make sense. He picks up phrases like this from his brother and TV shows, and often uses them correctly- for example: when anyone says that they forgot something, or if someone does something dumb, Ryan says "a-duhh!" and everyone laughs because it fits and he looks clever. But this new one is just not getting the laughs he so desires, so he keeps on trying. The kid is a walking catch-phrase. (My personal favorite is another newer one; "What are YOU talking about??" I'm trying to get him to add "Willis" on the end...)

• The list of objects that Ryan claimed to have put in his ear when asked by various nurses and doctors on staff; including, but not limited to: hot peppers, pickles, pizza, pita, hummus, ranch dip, carrots, and cucumbers. Oh, and poop, of course- because simply saying the word "poop" always gets a laugh. (Boys!) I had to make it clear to each staff member that he hadn't actually put any of those things in his ear (with emphasis on the poop...) and that as far as I could tell he didn't actually know what he had put in his ear.

Once we finally got in to see the doctor, the visit went rather quickly. Three of us held Ryan down (just as a precaution- he was actually very good about staying still) while the doctor tried a handful of random medical tools/utensils until one did the trick. Ryan was rewarded with two latex gloves and a "boo-boo bear". (I have mixed feeling on him being "rewarded" for sticking something in his ear... but at least he was well-behaved for getting it out.)

So what was that thing in his ear? Throughout all of this, I described it like this: "You know the backs of earrings- those little white rubbery ones that come on some of them? It looked similar to that. I mean, I don't think that's what it is, but it was about that size." Well... I was right; that's exactly what it was! What that was doing on the floor of a preschool classroom I can't figure out, but stranger things have happened. (Hey, I'm just grateful it wasn't poop.)

As we walked out of the ER and towards my car, I lectured him again on why he shouldn't put things in his ears. To reiterate my point, I asked him, "So are you going to put things in your ears anymore?"

To which he replied, "No, not me!"