throw some glitter, make it rain.

I went back to my Pre-K class today. I spent a night freaking out and obsessing over a possible job offer. After waking up crying and shaking (since a lovely side effect of the new drugs I’m taking are horrible nightmares that render me unable to wake up from them) I immediately texted my teacher and told her I was coming by. I needed to be reminded that I’m good at what I do. I needed to feel loved… appreciated… and needed. But most of all, I needed to feel important, that my existence is for a purpose.

It’s amazing how a group of four year olds can make me feel so loved. From the moment I entered the room, I was greeted from hugs from my teachers and the kids. Holding sticky hands, messy and slobbery kisses, and adorable giggles waited for me in the classroom I hadn’t even realized just how badly I missed. A classroom of kids with disabilities, many of which cannot even verbally communicate, made me feel more loved in just two hours than I have felt in the past month. One of their new students, who literally started school yesterday, yelled for me to squat down so she could give me a hug hello. One of my boys who has a lot of speech issues was able to tell me that I’ve been gone for a long time and he couldn’t believe I was finally back (and then yelled at me that I haven’t even gotten to see his new shoes he got for Christmas!) One of my girls jumped out of her chair, with a chicken bone in hand, to give me a hug and say “Hey! I love you!” I was fought over on the playground, since four of the kids all fought over which one of them would get me to push them on the swings. When we lined up on the sidewalk after the playground and I emptied sand from my shoes, every single kid got down on the sidewalk and copied my lead (my teacher was not very thrilled about this, but I’m not used to being a model for a group of kids.) I was pulled to the reading area and pulled back and forth between kids who argued over what book I should read to them. One of my boys told me that his mom said that he ALWAYS needs to hold a teacher’s hand, his excuse for running up to me and holding my hand in the hallway. 

It’s incredible, but a group of little kids reminded me that yes, I AM important to someone. While I am blessed to have some amazing and wonderful friends, we all have our own lives. At this moment, unfortunately, I do not have a real job or any real activities taking place in my life, and therefore, do not really have any opportunities to go out and create my own life. I hate being so dependent on other people for my happiness and entertainment, but at this point, I feel very stuck and confused. Being shy and quiet causes me to become pretty invisible to the world around me, with people I’ve met several times in the past introducing themselves to me because they just don’t remember me. While I would hope I’m pretty important in the eyes of my closest friends, sometimes it isn’t enough, and lately, all I’ve really wanted and needed is to know without thinking that I AM important to at least one person. Kids don’t hide what they’re thinking or feeling (while most of the time this is a good thing, I’ve learned the hard way that this lack of filter isn’t always good.) When they’re happy, they’re happy. When they’re sad, they’re sad. And when they love you, they don’t need words to show it. A group of preschoolers, while not the most impressive bunch, reminded me that we are ALL important to somebody. We might not see it all the time, but sometimes we need some snot, germs, and hugs to remind us.