I Brought My 3-Year-Old to Work With Me and Lived to Tell the Tale

My son, Owen, has been in daycare since he was five months old. Every year, his school has a “shut-down” week during the last week of June, and every year I’ve had to scramble to find something for him to do that week. However, now that he’s three and about 87% potty trained, I was finally able to bring him to work with me to attend the camp program that I run in the summertime. I was excited about the convenience factor of bringing Owen to work with me; however, I was also apprehensive about it: Would he listen to the instructors? Would he be upset because, although I was there, I wouldn’t be hanging out with him all day? Luckily, the week went well overall, but it wasn’t without some hijinks. Here is the highlight reel from when I brought my child to work with me. (dun dun DUUUUUUN!)

8:45 a.m.: We arrive at camp, and Owen wants to go into the gym and start playing immediately, but I have to check messages and send some emails; also, I don’t want him to get sick of being in the gym before the day even starts. I convince him to stay in the classroom with the instructor by letting him watch PBS Kids on my phone because I’m a sucker  awesome.

9:30 a.m.: Circle time. We have a new child observing the program with her mom. The instructor has the children do a butterfly stretch and asks them to name their favorite snack to put in their “feet sandwich.” Owen loudly announces that his favorite snack is donuts. Chagrined, I quickly explain to the other mom that he’s merely an imaginative child and that I hardly ever give him donuts for a snack.

9:45 a.m.: Even though it’s Dinosaur Week at camp, Owen has decided to be a pirate for the day, and a few of the other kids have followed suit. The activity in the gym is punctuated by loud cries of “YO HO HO!” At one point, I nearly answer the phone that way.

10:15 a.m.: Owen somehow escapes his group, eating snacks ( NOT donuts) in the classroom, and crashes the preschool gym class I’m teaching. I am alone with the group and can’t leave to return him, so I let him stay. He spends the next half hour, um, providing a good example for the other children in the class: “No, you do a forward roll LIKE THIS!” “Luke, she said PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR KNEES!”

12:20: Owen finishes the morning with the camp group without further incident. I’ve managed to get some work done and go to hang out with him while he eats his lunch. Predictably, he eats the cereal bar, cheese stick, and blackberries I’ve packed for him. He charms me into eating most of his grapes and then throws his crackers in the garbage while I’m not looking.

1:00: Owen looks like he’s about to pass out as the afternoon camp group arrives. Luckily, the Spanish Language preschool next door has agreed to take him for a little while since they have a full-day program and offer a rest period. I leave him there to play with trains and wind down a bit in their cool, dark classroom.

2:25: I’m at my desk, ostensibly getting some work done, but also possibly looking for a funny video to share on Facebook when one of the teachers from the Spanish school comes in to tell me that Owen has woken up is crying for me. I feel guilty because I’d forgotten how disoriented and generally freaked out he can get when he wakes up, especially if he’s in an unfamiliar place. I quickly go to him and hold him, drying his tears. He shows his gratitude by unceremoniously peeing in his pants.

2:45: Having fully woken up and now wearing clean shorts, he rejoins the camp group and gets ready to go outside. My afternoon instructor announces that he thinks it’s hot enough to bust out the waterslide (why yes, I do run the funnest camp ever!), and I agree. I go back to my office.

3:20: I hear the kids returning from outside. In his t-shirt and basketball shorts, Owen is sopping wet and grinning from ear to ear. He runs up and throws his arms around me: “Mommy!!! That was so much fun!” It occurs to me that he has no dry shorts left. I debate between the pee-pee shorts and the sprinkler shorts and decide to leave him as-is.

3:40: A little girl bangs her leg on the bars. I get her some ice; Owen follows her around, trying to put the ice on her leg. “Here, you need this for your BOO BOO!” She runs away from him. He looks hurt for a second, then runs off, yelling, “YO HO HO!”

4:05: All of the kids have left for the day, but Owen doesn’t want to go; he’s finally mastered the rope swing and is dead set on practicing his new skill until he’s ready to leave for college. I managed to get him out of there by bribing him with some Superman stickers that I happened to have in the car.

4:50: At home, Owen is happily lying on the living room floor, watching “Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood.” Pants-less….and covered in Superman stickers…..

Have you ever brought your child to work with you? I’d love to hear about your experience in the comments section!