Toddlers wear their emotions on their sleeves. And since most are non-verbal, they get frustrated when they can’t get their point across. One way to get your point across VERY CLEARLY is to bite the person you are interacting with. It calms you down since you now have an outlet for your anger, and it gets INSTANT attention from the teachers in the room.
Just think what staff meetings would be like if adults expressed their frustration by biting their co-workers… wait. I think I worked for a boss like that.
I’m wondering if this unintentional reaction is common to all in the helping field. (Although I suppose that “reaction” implies unintentional.) Anyway…every once in awhile I get a foster kitten that just doesn’t seem right. The kiddo’s aura is off somehow. A little finger of anxiety mixed with dread goes down my spine. And it begins. The little ones who are ill or have an invisible defect such as a heart problem, or who have the beginnings of a virus like FIP already lurking in their cells need my compassion and no-holds-barred love. (One of the priests at church calls it “Loving Wastefully”.) But even though I know this, something holds me back from attaching unconditionally the way they need me to, because there is the very real possibilty that they will not make it. And it will be absolutely heartbreaking. I can feel the distancing begin, even though I know that they need me to be there for them. Their tiny path crossed with mine for a reason, and I understand my role. Sometimes though, it is just too hard. Maybe recognizing the problem is the first step. So as long as you are reading, say a little prayer for a small soul named Joey whose unnamed issues are making me struggle with this character flaw tonight.
and in some ways tempting the universe to remark “over my dead body”.
Rubber band a pen to the sun visor in the car! Handy! East on I70, turn to the south, move visor to the side…pen mark across nose to start the work day..
Observation. When I was young, I would have gladly sat in a group of people and read a book. Sometimes I did in fact, and was told it was rude. Now, with laptops and iPhones…..is it just as rude to be on an electronic device while in a group of people? It seems more socially accepted.
Tonight, my husband, niece, nephew, mom and I cut up glow sticks, put the liquid in mason jars, added glitter, and played around with the stuff in the hot Kansas night. Mom has a camera with a shutter timer. We had a great time! Try it!
7:20 am, I70 and Brighton Blvd, traffic at a standstill. Look over at the space between the far right lane and the concrete median…hundreds of baseballs. Hmmm.
During a Book of Common Prayer recital last night at church, a lightbulb went on over my head. It was very distracting to the people around me. I had to apologize for the sudden brightness. The prayer was asking for God’s blessings on “those who are working, those who are sleeping, and those who are dying.” Wow. Occured to me that “dying” is an action word. A verb. Something you are actively involved in. Then it occurred to me that it is something that we are ALL actively doing from the day we are born. Dying is not something that occupies you at the end of your life. It occupies everyone EVERY DAY of their lives. The other thing that keeps us busy is living. Or at least it should. Only took me 45 years to come up with that one. I’m hoping for another illimunating episode before I’m 90.
Courtesy of Samantha Reynolds/Bentlily Poem A Day
The strange appeal of a crisis
My insides are made of fizz
I sleep only out of duty
my cells are squealing like happy pigs
I am running a hundred horses in the pitch dark
this is what they call a crisis
but how strange this ecstasy
so bright inside the turmoil.