The Nursery

Our church provides a nursery for 18 month old babies to 3 year old preschoolers on Sunday. It wasn’t until I was a Nursery Leader that I realized how big of a gap in development there was from 18 months to 3 years. I hear that this position is sometimes the hardest position to fill at church. My husband wants it just for the snacks and play time. How great would that be?

Right now, we have a wonderful lady that is in there. They have a structured play time, snack time, short lesson, story, all kinds of stuff that should be fully entertaining to a roomful of toddlers and preschoolers. Last month we had a sort of birthday party for the nursery to replenish toys and other supplies in there. There were some wonderful things put in there. Among them: cars. My almost 3 year old’s favorite toy. “Car” was his first word. He lives, breathes, and eats cars. He has at least 50 of them and he heaps them into a small wagon and pulls or pushes them around all day. He looks at books to find cars and points them out. He notices them in magazines, driving by, in the store. We watch Disney’s “Cars” movie on an almost daily basis. Cars are his life.

In Nursery, Simeon makes a beeline for the basket of cars stored in the cabinet. They are brand new and still have all their wheels and very few scratches. He likes to line them up and look at them. He likes to pile them up and look at them. He hides them in couches, beds, shelves, cabinets, his clothes and the van. These are precious above all else for him. Touch one and he screams bloody murder, and don’t think that if you sneak one away he won’t notice.

Today at church, Simeon grabs the basket of cars. Oh, the glorious, precious, shiny cars all lined up in the basket. “All mine!” he must think. Clear at the other end of church, in my classroom, with the door shut, I hear that ever familiar high pitch, not normal for a boy to have, scream. The first thought that goes through my head is “Someone touched his precious cars.” I don’t respond, until I hear it a few more times. Then I decide that maybe I should go see what the problem is and give the Nursery leader some relief.

I enter the room and here is Simeon, red faced, screaming, drooling and holding a basket of cars, minus one. I only know that one is missing because another little girl in the class had taken it and ran across to the other side of the room and is holding it above her head for all to see she had one of Simeon’s precious cars. His Arch Nemesis.

I pried the cars away from Simeon and removed him from class in hopes that it gave the leader some relief. Simeon continued to scream and writhe and cry until another lady took pity on him and offered a piece of cheese to him, which, magically, actually worked to calm him down. Can cheese really work that easily?

So, this all got me thinking. You have number of kids in class, but they can all fall into these classifications.

The Hoarder: this child must have everything! All items: dolls, cars, blocks, play-doh, everything is fair game and he must have all of it. There is no appeasing him and there is no reasoning with him. His mottos are: “All MINE!” or “My Precious…”

The Hoarder’s Arch Nemesis: The only goal she has is to take one thing the Hoarder is hoarding. Their eyes lock, their teeth grit, they circle each other like boxers in a ring. She is not content until the Hoarder’s prize possession is IN her possession.

The Little Mama: I’ve seen some boys like this, but they are helping, loving, and can have a conversation with you. They also tattle about all the other children, no matter how insignificant the transgression.

The Loner: Can be confused with the Hoarder, but they are usually quiet, non-assertive and don’t complain too much if something is snatched out of their hands.

The Naturalist: This is that one kid that can’t keep shoes, socks and sometimes clothes on. Very sneaky and like to surprise you with their new found talent of stripping.

The Screamer: You can hear them coming before you even see them. They scream as their parents deposit them, as the door is shutting, after the door is closes, and then they attack the door. Nursery is more like the Devil’s Lair to them and they want out, NOW. A few animal crackers will calm them down sometimes.

The Germ: This one’s always got the runny nose, the dark circles under the eyes, the cough and sneeze, rash, you name it. Next week will be easy as he will be the only one in class because all the other kids will be out sick. And he’s just looking to give you smooches.

The Rebel: This is the kid that gets Kool-Aid^© and candy for breakfast because her mom is trying to get out the door in time for church and it’s what she was able to find in the car. In any other normal circumstance, she could be very sweet and nice, but today is the day she looses it, kind of through no fault of her own. She kicks, calls you names, beats up other children and in the end, she’s the one standing on the table doing the chicken dance because you are tending to the Screamer.

I have worked in Nursery and they are all very sweet kids, but they are toddlers, really, some younger, some older, and the poor things are so frustrated with their abilities, or lack thereof, you can only hope their parents got a good enough break and you got to be an instrument in helping them develop some much needed social skills.

…Or not.