Wild Workdays

I start my day at Wildflower Montessori at 10 am. I walk through the preschool classroom, past the toddlers, and down the bright hallway to enter the little class where I work, the baby room. As I come in, I say my hellos to the other two women that I work with, throw on my slippers (shoes are prohibited in the baby room.), and mentally prepare for the screaming, crying, and smelly diapers that await me.

Usually it begins with Katie, a one year old, waddling over to me in excitement. She’s always very happy to be at school, and very full of energy. Being the only baby in the class that can walk, she’s always up for taking trips to the water fountain with me as I hold her little hand. 

 As I greet the other babies, another one year old, Leah, attempts to speed crawl straight out the door since she knows I’m distracted. She loves to try and leave the room, and I’m convinced it’s because she knows she’s not supposed to. I typically don’t let it get past me, though sometimes I’ll peek out into the hallway to see her tiny body all the way in the kitchen. She may be little, but the girl is fast. 

Of course, the morning isn’t complete until Benjamin, seven months old, has a minor meltdown. It’s usually because another baby started playing with his toys, or Katie stepped on his foot as she’s running around the room. Benjamin is a sensitive boy. He doesn’t do well with loud noises or when too much is going on at once. Usually we’ll try to calm his nerves by carrying him out to the hallway so he can touch the art on the wall. 99% of the time, it works. It’s either that or some Cheerios. 

By the time it’s noon, Peter, six months old, has fallen asleep on the floor in the middle of playing. I don’t know what it is, but that little boy is always tired. As the record-holder for most naps taken out of all the babies, he is the textbook example of the saying “slept like a baby.” However, when he’s not sleeping, he smiles at every little thing he sees. Whether it’s a bird flying past the window or watching my coworkers and I have a conversation, he giggles uncontrollably. Until, of course, he gets tired and knocks out on the carpet. 

This job is difficult, and sometimes these kids don’t go easy on us, but I think it’s the best job I could have. I love the babies I have the pleasure of working with, and I love the experience I’m getting out of it. Though they can be a handful, I wouldn’t trade it for any other job in the world.