“Hey, Mackenzie, is your shirt on backwards?”
Yep. It happened again.
For a person who claims to “pay great attention to detail” I sure walk out of the pumping room at work with my shirt on backwards A LOT.
Sorry for the cold open there, I just had to get you up to speed with what’s been going on around here quickly, and I figured talking about my pumping routine would do the trick.
But really – it HAS been a while! The last time I blogged, Hayes was a bald little nugget who had me completely wrapped around his chubby little finger. And now…well, Hayes is still a bald little nugget who has me wrapped around his chubby little finger. I can tell he’s a little self conscious about the bald thing, and even though I’ve reassured him that it’s totally normal to be follicly challenged at his age – I get it! I’ve seen those other kids at his daycare, and I’ll be damned if they aren’t all sporting heads full of glossy, thick hair…to which I tell Hayes, “don’t worry, bud – when lice season hits, those kids are totally screwed.”
A lot has been happening around here. I’ve been back to work for 3 months already. Summer has come and gone and school is already back in session, for goodness sakes! My social media timelines have been filled with adorable back to school pictures that I can’t get enough of. I have a weakness for pictures of little kids in their shiny new kicks, book bags and shit eating grins. If I’m being completely honest, I almost shipped Hayes off to school just so I could take one of those pictures for myself.
With school back in sesh, it means those brave, brave teachers are back at it again. Somehow they are able to control entire classrooms filled with different personalities, varying attitudes, (hilarious) meltdowns and the occasional uncontrollable bladder. Bless them all.
I give mad props to all teachers. I honestly don’t know how they do it. I found out the hard way a very long time ago that teaching just wasn’t for me.
You might be thinking to yourself, “you…YOU?!?!…attempted teaching?!” and the answer is: kinda.
Allow me to explain.
The year was 2004, the city was Hayesville and the gig was teacher at Vacation Bible School.
If you ask me, VBS is the bees knees. I grew up attending and I have SO many fond memories from it.
I. LOVED. IT.
I mean, where else can a girl kick her first boy between the legs (sorry, Dustin), sing “Jesus Loves Me” AND memorize your first scripture/dirty joke all in the same building?! Needless to say, it still holds a very special place in my heart. Plus, have you ever had the pleasure of hearing the stories of Sunday School Charlie and his best bud Red? If ya don’t know, now ya know. Just amazing.
ANYWAY. My sweet grandma was a HBIC (Head Bonnie in Charge) at Bible school, and one summer, long after I had finished attending myself, I was asked to teach a class. One of the usuals had a conflict with their schedule and they were in a pinch. Enter yours truly.
I of course agreed to this offer. I had nothing better to do that week besides text boys and chat on MSN, anyway. Plus, it paid in homemade morning snacks, daily visits with my grandma and on top of all of that, I desperately needed to flex my power with a position of authority – and teaching three 4th/5th grade boys would be just the way to do that…plus ~*SO*~ easy!
Narrator: It was not easy.
Yeah, what he said.
It was not easy.
Everything started out as fine as could be. Our first day kicked off with the large group in the chapel singing songs, smiling and learning each others names. But once it was just the four of us in our tiny classroom, I quickly uncovered the truth: these kids were nuts. The tallest one was MEAN. The stocky one would say things like “Oh, REAL cute” and roll his eyes at anything the mean one said. And the little one…well, I actually don’t have anything bad to say about the little one, because he was my buddy. He was kind of a wimp, though.
What I thought would be 5 days of crafts, Jesus and singing quickly turned into chaos, swearing and crying. How could three boys be so naughty in the house of the Lord?!
It was awful.
By day 3, the weakest one quit showing up, and the two bigger ones were bound and determined to kill each other. In fact, on the afternoon of day 3, what started out as a friendly game of HORSE on the basketball court during recess turned into an all out fist fight. I remember it vividly. One minute giggles and bank shots, the next a ripped collar and some blood. I just remember yelling, “JESUS CHRIST……uh….would be SO disappointed right now!”
(I know. I’m still impressed with that save. Thank you, Jesus – you’re my homeboy.)
For those still reading, it turned out fine. Everyone lived. We had a literal Come to Jesus and I made the boys write an apology to my Grandma and God himself. It’s fine. We even had a special bonding moment when we came up with a very believable lie to tell their parents about the ripped collars and face bruises (something along the lines of a locust attack or something Biblical like that, I can’t really remember). The little one eventually came back, and we all made crafts, sang songs and attended the annual Bible School Program together a few days later. Still, I told myself after that whole experience, “I’m NEVER going to be a teacher and I’m DEFINITELY never…ever…having boys”.
Well, the joke, per usual, was on me.
I kept my promise about the teaching thing – it just isn’t for me, but I applaud those who can do it. You’re the real MVPs and we need more people like you.
I am happy to report that I was wrong about the having boys part – and my boy Hayes and I LOVE singing “Jesus Loves Me” every single day. Maybe someday he will be the mean one and he’ll have a stocky one and little one to attend Bible School with.
I hope so.
Happy school year, teachers and students! Be nice, be safe and have fun.