After the time-out debacle our dynamic duo of toddlers would gather for cheese and crackers. I happily leave the pleasure of the experience to my lovely coworker and set out to prepare the pacific nap room. At some point both snack times find their conclusion (the toddler section and the '4 and up' section) and the children begin spilling out of the rooms like ball bearings on a hardwood floor, crashing and bumping against each other with adults like flippers in a pinball machine trying to guide them aright. Some children must wash their hands and go pee pee, others must be filtered into the coat room to collect their 'outside things' (galoshes, rain pants, jackets, etc.). In between these two destinations one can find a variety of other activities taking place: hopping up and down on the newly made nap-cots, crawling under tables, smacking me on the buttocks while running by in a blindingly fast bolt of toddler-lightning. "We don't hit at Sophia House!" i call out limply as the Tasmanian devil goes tearing by down the hallway.

Somehow, with a magic that i can only liken to what is commonly called, 'the magic of the theater' in which everything miraculously manages to happen with a sort of frantic grace, the children all make it outside - clean hands, rain pants, the whole show. A new addition to my schedule this year is the duty of lunch-cook for the children twice a week. While the pleasure of sharing 'outside time' with the children is one that i truly enjoy i am now most happy to have a few relatively quiet spaces in my schedule to spend cooking meatballs or chicken soup or spaghetti for 14. The meals are regimented, uniform and simple. The condiments are: ranch dressing. I have become quite accustomed to the taste of rice with avocados, tomatoes and ranch (for the aspiring vegetarian this is often all that remains at the children's lunch table).
I thought with some arrogance that perhaps i had mastered the art of speed-cooking. Having lived at Camphill where i once threw together a pizza (from scratch, crust and all) in one hour i thought i could easily field the small chips of kiddie lunches pre-planned. However, the very details have become my near downfall.

Imagine if you will: 1 hour. 3 lbs of ground beef rolled into bite-size balls and pan-fried. 4 cups of rice. i bag of 12 carrots diced and boiled, then topped with honey and butter. 3 tomatoes, 3 avocados and 1 1/2 cucumbers diced and laid beautifully out on little ceramic dishes. Also, wiping down the little dining room, setting places and washing the dishes from snack to be reused at lunch. By the time i finish up this kind of work i will gain not only character but the performance skills of a kitchen commando.

The rest of the day essentially follows the old pattern involving naps, tutoring and cleanup. I realized recently that i am in effect voluntarily flunking 3rd grade for this position, at least the homework component of it. I am now very refreshed in times tables, pluralizing words, story problems and the like. However, my relationship with Oscar is sailing along smoothly with the sort of unspoken understanding that if i only pick the most important battles he will cooperate when i do. Its very pleasant, really.

And that's how life began in 2007.