I'm not a huge fan of working out, never really have been. I get on workout kicks every so often, but they never last for very long. Well lately my knees, neck, back you name it has been bothering me. Bryan got an awesome deal to join a gym through his work, so we decided to join.
I was all excited to take a yoga class on Saturday morning and they have child care at the gym, so I was really thrilled because I didn't have to worry about what to do with the kids. Well the class started at 10:30 on Saturday morning and I didn't quite make it in time. So I figured I'd go ahead and drop the kids off in the childcare center, and go work out on a machine for a little bit. Give them a trial run of sorts.
I go to drop the kiddos off and the employees looked so happy to be there. *please note extreme sarcasm and eyes rolling here* One girl was holding a little boy, probably about 1 1/2, who was crying. As I'm filling out paperwork she comes up to the desk and says, "I can't take this anymore." So they page the kids mom over the intercom. This lady comes in and says, "I was told to come to the kids room." They give her attitude and say, "Your kid is crying!" While holding this little boy in front of her face. "That is not my son, that is my son over there reading a book." She says pointing to a 10 year old boy.
The workers kinda look at each other and are like, "Oh I guess we got the stickers mixed up." They used this hi-tech method of numbering the kids with stickers, they didn't have a clue of any of the kids names.
Drop off time comes. Dylan is thrilled, Justin of course starts crying. I leave and go find my first torture machine. Not even 7 minutes later this is what I hear: "Attention all club guests. Will Jennifer Pastor please report to the Kids Club." I knew they were calling about Justin, I saw how well they handled that other crying kid so I knew they wouldn't even give him a chance.
I go in there, and it made everything worse. I calmed him down, but I had paid for an hour of care for the kids, so I wasn't leaving. I went to the car to get his blanket and resumed my personal torture, I mean workout. I workout for about 15 more minutes then decided to go pick up the kiddos. Justin had cried himself to sleep and the girl was holding him (and boy did she give me a nasty look when I came back to get him) and Dylan was minding her own business reading a book.
I prepared myself for a tantrum when I told Dylan it was time to leave, but she actually was okay. I got evil glares from the workers (who by the way didn't even check my ID to make sure these kids belonged to me). Maybe I shouldn't of left Justin there, but they didn't even give him a chance to calm down after I left. Really 7 minutes isn't that long for him to cry. And he wasn't even crying that much when the paged me to come get him. If anything it made it worse calling me in and then me leaving again.
This isn't a good sign for when I go back to work. Somebody isn't going to be a happy camper!