I’m beginning to think that I’ve developed a terminal case of writer’s block. I’ve started several blogs over the past several days only to have the ideas peter out after a paragraph or so. It doesn’t help that I’m also trying to write a 1000 character essay on my academic and career goals that’s required for a scholarship. That works out to be about a paragraph – how in the hell is someone as verbose as me going to sum up that in a paragraph. And what are my goals, anyway. I mean, at this point, I’m only interested in going to school until I die so I don’t have to get a real job and pay back my student loans. Somehow I don’t think that would impress the scholarship committee.
Speaking of jobs, though, I have a job this summer (besides the one where I goof off as much as possible). One of my professors called and asked if I would help out at the computer summer camp put on by the college. It’s only for two weeks for 5 hours a day, but it pays $10 an hour – more than my work study job paid. We’ll be teaching kids about web design, which ought to be interesting – I have this sinking feeling that the little munchkins will probably be able to teach us more about it than we will be able to teach them. It will also be interesting since this particular professor has a very, very thick Chinese accent – think Jackie Chan (the actor) trying to teach computer science.
People who know me pretty well are amazed that I’m going to get involved with anything having to do with kids. It’s not that I don’t like kids. It’s just that I don’t have much in the way of maternal instincts. My two older sisters provided me with three nieces and four nephews who have in turn provided me with four grand-nieces and five grand-nephews. I’ve never had to go about the bother of having any of my own because during the rare occasion where I might want the companionship of a kid, I usually had more than enough from their broods to choose from. I’ve got George, my dachshund, and he’s more than enough of a spoiled baby for me.
I’m not a really touchy-feely kind of person. I’ve gotten better about giving and receiving hugs from people, but I’m generally not particularly demonstrative or affectionate (except with George, of course). I’m also not the most tolerant or patient person on the planet. With kids, well, I’ve just always figured that I’m not “The Mom” so I don’t have to put up with a lot of nonsense. I sort of have this standard of behavior that I expect from people, regardless of their age. Naturally, with kids, you have to cut them some slack, but my way of cutting them this slack is to avoid them when they are not meeting my standard of behavior. Like, if they start whining, I walk away. If they throw a temper tantrum, I walk away with a look of disgust. My thought is that it’s the parent’s job to deal with this however they want, not mine – I don’t interfere with that, even if they want to just allow that sort of thing.
The weird thing is that, in general, kids will either ignore me or like me. I don’t know. Maybe there are some kids out there that hate me but are really good at hiding that from me. The “family kids” now range from 30-something to a year old. The youngest ones (5 years old and younger) all live the Georgia so I don’t get to see much of them. But the other ones seem to have generally liked me. I mean, sure they must get royally pissed off at me at times. And yeah I’m sure that they all love me because I’m Aunty KJ and I’m not exactly evil or anything, but you can love people without particularly liking them. Like I said, I don’t know. I just have always found it odd, especially when one would seek me out just to talk. Not too long ago, I had an interesting conversation with a 9 year old about the pros and cons of tattoos.
So, anyway, this all means that my two-week summer job should prove to be as interesting as it is profitable. I’ve got a week to get ready for this adventure – we’re meeting today to plan what we’ll be doing and to fill out some paperwork so we get paid. And it certainly appears that I’ve recovered from my writer’s block. I guess I should tackle that scholarship essay again.
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