I'm in a blogging slump. I don't know what to blog about. Sorry! Geez. Don't judge. Things have been busy with school and stuff, and I'm trying to find my identity with this blog anyways. It's not really a journal. It's kinda a journal... but not as crazy as my journal is. My journal is crazy folks. That book has been beat up. I carry it around everywhere.
Let me tell you about some conversations I have at work.
A two year old girl would hop on the stairs of the playground, turn to me, and say "I'M GONNA FALL!!!!!!!!!!!" And walk a little further and turn back and say "HELP! I'M GONNA FALLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!" So I laughed and said "I promise, you're not gonna fall." I followed behind her and stood where she stood and said "Oh no! Help me! I'm gonna fall!" And she'd turn back and say "No. I promise."
A little boy, my favorite one, doesn't speak English very well. He's from China. He's two. He's very new to the USA. A few weeks ago, we were playing with little fish toys, and I was making them "swim" through the air, while saying "Fishy fishy fishy fishy fishy!" Since then, he'd run up to me, grab me around the legs, and say "Fishy!!!" I thought he was just saying that because it was something we bonded over, and he was just reminding me that he remembered me. But time passed, and every time he'd wave to me or hug me, he'd say "Fishy!" It dawned on me that he thought my name was Fishy. So, whenever he'd do that, I'd wrap him up in my arms and say "No. Lara Lara Lara Lara Lara Lara Lara!" Two Fridays ago, I was putting him down for nap time, reading him a book, and he hugged me and said "Lowa." Then my shift was over and I had to leave.... Now he's in China until January. I miss him a lot.
I found a lot of joy in the swings on the playground. The kids love the swings. I'll push them on the swings and talk to them like adults, using an adult tone of voice, and talking to them about stuff they probably won't understand.
"I love working here, you know? You kids are really fun. The coworkers are great. My boss is great."
I talk to them about how my school is going. I ask how THEIR preschool is going.
Every now and then they turn around while I'm pushing them on the swing and cock their eyebrow at me and look at me like I'm crazy.
The majority of the kids in my preschool are minorities, and they weren't born here. They don't speak English.
But I love talking to them, and they look at me like that. Like I'm crazy.
Pretty sure I am crazy.