Housekeeping

Do you remember the wooden kitchens in Kindergarten back when you were a student?  You know….The refrigerator, stove, sink and mini table with chairs that were pale colored wood; perhaps oak or maybe even made from pine.  They typically had bright red plastic knobs and handles.  Yes, well, my Kindergarten class is no exception to the rule of hosting a make believe kitchen center.  Although I admit that I have whittled this center down to the bare bones.  I ditched the refrigerator and managed to “reassign” the table and chairs to the storage shed just outside of my classroom.  This once glorious forum for dramatic play has been squeezed into a four foot square section of my classroom.  It resembles more of a galley kitchen as the kids have to almost stand sideways to squeeze between the stove and sink that face each other giving it this “galley” feel.  Yet, they are still drawn to this center in droves. (Isn’t it always true that whatever you don’t want kids to want, they desire like nothing else.)

There is a girl assigned to my class this year who is the queen of the Housekeeping Center.  She is quick to assign roles for anyone who stumbles into the kitchen.  (Well, stumble isn’t really the word here.  It is more like whomever can slide in sideways between the stove and sink.  The doors to the “oven” can’t be opened unless everyone steps two steps to the side exiting the kitchen to you can “pop” something into the oven.)  In the fall this girl was quick to let me know that we didn’t have any baby dolls in the kitchen.  Apparently these are a staple for dramatic play in the Housekeeping Center.  She reminded and begged me to get some babies for the center.  When I didn’t she managed to talk her mum into letting her bring three baby dolls to Kindergarten to “donate” to the class. Then came the requests for a baby carriage and/or a baby bed.  Neither of which I wanted given that the kitchen was already built on a stick budget since I had “reassigned” the refrigerator and dining set to the storage shed.

One afternoon in the fall  I happened to hear her announce to the “husband”, “grandmother” and “dog” that she was about to give birth and that she needed to be rushed to the hospital.  She instructed grandma to stay home and look after the dog, who when I looked over was gnawing on a plastic toy orange.  Off they flew (mum and dad) to the hospital (a.k.a. – The floor area underneath the table that housed the classroom computers) to “give birth”.  I watched as this girl shoved one of the three babies up her shirt and told the papa to “hold her hand” because she didn’t know if she would make it in time.  I assumed she meant make it to the makeshift hospital under the computer table.

 By now I had stopped working with my small reading group and turned my full attention to watching this soon to be miracle of life unfold before me.  Aside from the comedy of it all, I was most curious to know what she knew about having a baby.  What’s more?  I needed to see what her peers might learn from her and what misinformation might be shared.  Why? So that when the phone rang the next morning with the parent of one of the other “family” members in the housekeeping center I would be able to have a clear understanding of the chain of events.  I needed to be able to explain what transpired that lead to their new learning about the starting of a new life.

There, under the computer table “baby” was born.  Maybe born is a bit gentle for what really happened.  The dad became the doctor.  (I love that about dramatic play.  Kids change roles when the situation calls for it.  I wish real life were like that sometimes.)  The dad, now doctor, yanked that baby out from under her shirt and flipped it over onto his knee and started “spanking” the baby on the bottom.  He announced, “You gotta spank ‘em when they come out so they will cry or else they won’t make it!” – Hmmmmm – Interesting.

Then the family who was ordered to “stay at home” during the birth rushed to the hospital to take a look at the new baby. Well, rushed might be an understatement.  It was all of one step from the galley kitchen to the make-shift hospital under the computer table.  Of course, the two students on the computers had halted their technological work and bent their necks so they could see what was going on under the table so as not to miss anything, but not giving up their seats so as not to lose their turn in the very coveted computer center.

The funny thing about this story is that it happened like this, like clockwork, every day for the next two weeks.  This child would give birth daily and sure enough there was make-shift families of her peers there to assist, watch and play along.  Though often the family changed from day to day, one thing was for sure.  This child was ALWAYS the mum and gave birth daily.

It made me wonder…..What might it be like to change the members of my family.  Or, at the very least, change the one or two in my family who really aren’t much fun…..