Sixteen days later. My first paid time off from work in almost eight years and first paid week off in over twenty had ended. I arrived early. Not to see the kids, but to help. Not patting myself on the back, simply making the transition easier for others. I was rewarded by the smiles of the very first child I saw, handing me a cupcake. Her return marked by her birthday. Her twin brother sat across the hall, scurrying when he saw me, offering me a cupcake. I'm vegan, the cupcakes were not. What would you do? I hold my values dear, but my worship of these children and their happiness takes precedence over my righteousness and even my health.
The time off was spent relaxing; too much I realized as I am the only staff member not to fulfill a paperwork obligation. Lounging about, day drinking, football, and the immense pleasure of spending time with my cat, Swag. He is the one who must now readjust to reality. The children allowed me to go to another place. I can only imagine what he thought, but I was made well aware upon my return. Thirteen and a half hours later, and he's just now spending his first few minutes in another room. I feel for him, as he will never know how much I missed it too.
The kids though, they are my life. Not figuratively, I swear. I knew I missed them as I stared at a collage of cards, artwork, and photos I received before the break. They warm my oft-times bitter heart. They reverse my cynicism towards this cruel world. They make me forget that my meager pay will not pay an upcoming bill. For the few hours I am there, I am theirs and they own my heart, my mind, and my soul, should I be lucky enough to have one.
Some expected the jokes to start immediately and, of course, I obliged. Others want for the comfort of a held hand, a hug, a lap to sit on and to tell a story. Others wanted eye contact or simply to feel connected again. One must always remember, their day is long, and they've been where they are loved the most, and now they are away for all but two, maybe three of their hours awake. We laughed, played, and at times, as it is important, spoke reminders of the rules. This goes for adults as well. Two weeks without censure from speaking our minds, with adult words, and negativity brought on by the harsh realities of adulthood. I had to remind myself that my problems, no matter how minuscule or how great, mean nothing to a child who simply wants what they want, often just to go home and climb into their parents' arms. We are surrogates, whether we ask to be or not, and they end their outside day with us. How we treat them, especially towards the end, may set the tone for their evening. Exhaustion, internal strife, and our emotional deficits must disappear, even if only our exterior.
And they do.
The time off was spent relaxing; too much I realized as I am the only staff member not to fulfill a paperwork obligation. Lounging about, day drinking, football, and the immense pleasure of spending time with my cat, Swag. He is the one who must now readjust to reality. The children allowed me to go to another place. I can only imagine what he thought, but I was made well aware upon my return. Thirteen and a half hours later, and he's just now spending his first few minutes in another room. I feel for him, as he will never know how much I missed it too.
The kids though, they are my life. Not figuratively, I swear. I knew I missed them as I stared at a collage of cards, artwork, and photos I received before the break. They warm my oft-times bitter heart. They reverse my cynicism towards this cruel world. They make me forget that my meager pay will not pay an upcoming bill. For the few hours I am there, I am theirs and they own my heart, my mind, and my soul, should I be lucky enough to have one.
Some expected the jokes to start immediately and, of course, I obliged. Others want for the comfort of a held hand, a hug, a lap to sit on and to tell a story. Others wanted eye contact or simply to feel connected again. One must always remember, their day is long, and they've been where they are loved the most, and now they are away for all but two, maybe three of their hours awake. We laughed, played, and at times, as it is important, spoke reminders of the rules. This goes for adults as well. Two weeks without censure from speaking our minds, with adult words, and negativity brought on by the harsh realities of adulthood. I had to remind myself that my problems, no matter how minuscule or how great, mean nothing to a child who simply wants what they want, often just to go home and climb into their parents' arms. We are surrogates, whether we ask to be or not, and they end their outside day with us. How we treat them, especially towards the end, may set the tone for their evening. Exhaustion, internal strife, and our emotional deficits must disappear, even if only our exterior.
And they do.
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