Dad on Duty #57

Field Day!

Arguably the hardest day of the year for volunteers and staff.   Outside activities, disruption of routines, family members coming to school, early releases…it all adds up to a witches brew of issues.

But fun as hell for the kids.

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To start things off with a twist, I had another Dad dress out as Bobby today. I love doing that; blows their little minds. He did great, as always, and I did have a few kids say something later in the day (“hey….I thought YOU were Bobby!” “I told you, nope!”)

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Field Day was more appropriately labeled “Mud Day” today. We moved most activities inside, and had to completely revise the plans. But there were still a few things outside, including some very muddy activities in the bus courtyard.

The two biggest challenges over the course of the day became:

1. Keeping the hallways from becoming a huge slip and slide. We were, at best, only moderately successful on that front. Volunteers and staff (especially the coaches and the custodians) threw everything they had at that issue, like they were defending rural Colorado in Red Dawn (sorry…obscure film reference…..nod smugly if you get it).
2. Changing rooms. We were totally unprepared for this. Most kids brought a change of clothes, but we didn’t adequately plan for 500+ kids to change clothes, in groups of 100, especially when the 50 girls can’t change with the 50 boys. Turns out, there is very little private space in an elementary school. That’s obvious now that we say it out loud, but it didn’t occur to us until the kids were all staring at us with their clothes in their hands.

We made space, by commandeering classrooms (“3rd grade boys; you’re changing in this room!”). It was a decision met with mixed reviews by the teachers over whose rooms we declared eminent domain, but I didn’t see another way, and it worked.

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Nurse Shields was off today. Awesome. Of all the days.

She had told me that she was going to leave some “notes” to help me in her absence.

When I got to work, they handed me her “notes”. It was a huge book with a cover page that said “give to David”.

It included individual profiles, complete with photos, of every kid with a possible malfunction, and her protocol for dealing with said kid and said malfunction. How to reset that kid’s insulin pump; the secret to squelching this kid’s nosebleeds; how many crackers that kid needs to eat if she’s been really active today.

It looked like the operator’s manual for a Saturn 5 rocket.

Mind you, I now know all these kids pretty well by now. And I’m confident in my ability to deal effectively with anything that’s really going to hurt them; fret not, I’ve got that covered.

But the magnitude of the details that Mary really deals with all day, every day, is pretty staggering.

When confronted with THAT, I had a brief thought of “well, these kids are all going to die. Sorry”.

Then I shake it off and focus on the issues that matter. Allergies, sugar levels and bleeding disorders. That’s pretty much all I’m gonna worry about.

And of course, it went fine.

Lots of band aids and ice packs. But nobody had to be Medevac’d, so we did good.

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We were blessed today with a lot of Dads helping. One set of activity “stations” was out on the front sidewalk. From a safety and security viewpoint, that’s pretty disconcerting. When I told the Dads that we were doing stuff out there, they pretty much instinctively got it; “Ooh….we should be there….”   Yep.

So they were. We essentially had a wall of Dads out front. It was a beauty to behold.

And not only did they guard the kids, they actively participated. They were the game coordinators for some events, and helped throw wet sponge balls and count ducks vs geese all day.

But they also never took their eyes off the kids, or the traffic. Handled perfectly gentlemen, thank you.

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Accountability is probably the biggest issue on days like today. Doors are open, grown ups are moving in and out of the building, kids have easy access to the outside.

Every so often, you have to stop and check; do we have everybody?   If any kids are gone, did they sign out with a parent? Are there any grown ups in the building that are not checked in?

Halfway through the day and again at the end of the day, Marc Kruse takes it upon himself to verify accountability. It’s no small task; it’s a big building and there’s almost 600 kids here.

But to see (and hear via the radio) him moving through the school, checking with every teacher to make sure all is well is a wonderful thing. In that moment, I react as a parent, not a Dad on Duty. Man, I’m glad he’s doing that. My kid is in there too.

Marc’s got “it”. Don’t tell him, but I’m pretty sure he’s my replacement when it comes time.

Poor bastard.