It's All About the Kiddos

I spent a lot of time with kiddos this week at work.  They taught me a few things...

1. Always go potty before getting in the car to go anywhere. No matter what. If you don't, you may find yourself on a stretch of highway with no rest stops with a four year old in the back seat, screaming that she has to go potty and she is going to pee her pants. What do you do?

I panicked briefly, imagining a urine-soaked car seat and pants. We definitely did not need that mess at that moment. I pulled over and carried her out of the car to the side of the road where she squatted. I shielded her, sure that she was scared for life. Apparently she wasn't because "I gotta potty, gonna pee my pants" became a fun game to play every five minutes. No, I did not pull over again.

2. Discipline in the car is difficult. You can't give a timeout. Threats of "I'm going to turn this car around" are clearly empty. I have no foundation of discipline with kids I've recently met so respect is miles away. I've learned that ignoring them may be the best method. And don't give them a box of crayons. Crayons quickly become torpedoes aimed for your head.

3. Sometimes ignoring their car shenanigans just isn't an option. Like when it becomes fun to unbuckle the seat belt, get out of the car seat, and crawl around the car. It takes FOREVER to get anywhere when you need to pull over six times to retrieve the scrambling child and buckle her back in.

3. It is wonderful when they sleep.

4. I cannot relate to the pain that they experience. Kids are resilient; they're incredible. But there are moments when the pain peaks through, and they realize that their current reality is scary and uncertain.

I don't have answers to their questions, and even if I do, it does little to ease their pain. I tell them that this isn't for forever, that mommy just needs to work on some stuff, and that daddy still loves them. And I hope I'm not lying to them.

But yesterday, a six year old asked me if I ever had to go away from home. I hesitated, searching for something to say. I stammered, and then, he asked if I ever had to miss my mommy.

Ouch.

I had nothing to say; I just hugged that little boy who had spent much of his school day in the "calming room" due to assaulting his kindergarten teachers and threatening to kill them.

5. It makes it all worth it when they run through the office, looking for your cubicle. And when they find you, they yell and jump into your arms.

 I'm with these kids for fleeting moments or long days. I hear their heartbreaking stories and deliver difficult news. But I pray that in the short time that I know them, I am somehow able to give them hope and comfort. I love these kids.