Kids Say the Darnest Things

Okay, so if you've talked to me in the past 2 months, you know I hate my job. Well, I guess I shouldn't say that. I can't complain about making $8.10 an hour, 6 hours a day, 5 days a week; never working past 6p; and having weekends and holidays off. But the children...!

I confess I do have a few favorites. Those are the ones that constantly remind me of the wide-eyed innocence of children, the carefree happiness that comes with no responsibility, and the stress-free outlook that accompanies not being able to think past age 12. I love those kids.

The problem is: There's only about 5 of them at daycare.

The others are selfish, temperamental, whiny, self-centered little bastards. Seriously. My coworker was approached by a crying little boy complaining about his classmate. "What's wrong?" she asked. The little boy sniffled and said, "Him won't play with me. Him said him not my friend." I looked over to see who the little boy was pointing to. The irritation seethed in my being. The crying boy was pointing at a kid I can only describe as a mini psychopath: All the crazy, half the size. I rolled my eyes and said, "Adam (that's the psychopath's name, Adam) is being a dick." Before this job, I would have never used that word to describe someone. Let alone a 9-year-old.

Still, the kids manage to teach me things. They open my eyes to how kids now see the world and what they're being taught by the media.

For example: There's this girl at daycare. Her name is Tatjana. We call her "Tot" for short; like Tater Tot. Tatjana is going to fifth grade. She's 10. And she's on a diet. One day while I was making my rounds about the lunch tables she shows me a picture of an outfit and says, "When I get skinny, I'm going to dress like this." Tatjana breaks my heart. Honestly, she does. She tells me things like, "This is part of my eating plan." It's part of her diet--which, according to her, is not just a diet but a "lifestyle". 10 year olds shouldn't have lifestyles! The saddest thing is Tatjana is not overweight by any means.

Then there's Emily. The funniest, liveliest, ...loudest girl at daycare. Emily's going to third grade. We were riding the bus on our way back from The Children's Museum and I was texting. When I was done, Emily caught a glimpse of my wallpaper. She looks at me and says, "Is that your boyfriend?" I told her yes. Instead of asking his name or how long we've been dating or even if I love him, Emily asks "Is he skinny?" I was floored. I asked her why she would ask me a question like that and she replies flatly, "Because skinny is better." If Emily were about 10 years older, I would have gave her some quippy response along the lines of Not if they're an ass. But Emily, being a kid, knows nothing about tact and says exactly what she thinks. All. The. Time. She's brutally honest, emphasis on brutal.

Another one is Isaac. Isaac is a little less favorable than Emily or Tot. He's a spoiled brat. Full meaning on both words. At daycare, we have a video game console. And the children each get a turn to play for a certain amount of time. They share and take turns. Now, while some of you may be following this concept perfectly, Isaac has a hard time grasping it. He wanted to play the game after Adam (Yes, mini-psycho Adam). I told him I'd come get him after Adam was finished playing. Well, Adam was playing with 2 other boys who got off the game before their turn was up. I told Isaac he could go play. He goes over to the game and refuses to play. I asked him what the problem was and he says, "I want to play the game!" I told him this was his chance. He starts to get upset saying he wanted to be first player. I explained to him that Adam was still playing but if he wanted to play (like he asked to), now was his chance. He starts huffing and puffing and getting angry saying, "But I want to be first player!I never get to be first player! I never get anything I want!" Because Silverstone doesn't run on vegetable oil, I use all my strength not to hit this little boy. I told him very calmly that I'm giving him exactly what he asked for: to play the game. Isaac storms off and starts crying angrily. He screams he hates daycare, wants to go home and never come back. If only I could have gotten that in writing...

These kids have taught me so much this summer. I feel I have a better understanding of the next generation. And I'm pretty scared.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

Unexpected Inspiration

I was unexpectedly hit by a bit of inspiration in a very unlikely place: While watching So You Think You Can Dance. While the context of this quote is unimportant (and would require entirely too much explanation for those not familiar with the show), the quote stuck with me. Nigel Lythgoe, one of the judges and executive producer, said to one of the dancers: "Sometimes we forget to dance because we let the steps get in the way."

This stood out to me because it spoke to me. Sometimes we forget to just dance because we let the "steps" get in the way. The way we were taught to do things. They way we think they're supposed to be done. The so-called correct way. I've dragged some of my more reserved friends to clubs many times and they tend to echo the same sentiment, "Oh, I'm not sure I can do this. I can't dance like that." But dance, much like life, is not about the method. So often we are caught up in how we're being perceived that we forget how we are being presented. When I'm out on the dance floor, I just ride the music and forget everything. I forget how I'm being perceived and what's presented is confidence. And a little bit of sexy on a good night.

Lately I've been battling a lot of combating thoughts and trying to balance a lot of mixed emotions. I've been trying to learn the steps. Learn the right way to handle this situation I find myself in. Tonight I realized that I just need to dance. To live. To follow my instinct and just feel it.

Here I go...

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

Stroke of brilliance..?

So I've just been hit by possible inspiration. I dunno. But I'm typing very fast to get this down. and I'm putting it here because a) I want to find it and B) I want to put something less depressing up.

Okay. So. My new(est) idea is this: Orphanarium.

What happens to abandoned ideas? Books that are never completed? Songs that are never sung? Paintings never finished? ...They go to the Orphanarium.

The Orphanarium is a place like no other: Where it's inhabitants are characters from stories that haven't been fully developed; it's walls are covered with incomplete art; over the loud speakers plays bits of music that haven't been finished.

But what happens when the Orphanarium's newest residents begin to make their own lives? Complete their own stories...

Awesome right?

Ironically, this idea will metaphorically end up at the Orphanarium. Haha.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.