The bills are piling up, and where have I spent my Spring break?
People, it got to the point, the groveling from church to church for $25 here and $50 there, all of which I am grateful for...was destroying my soul.
The Mer got scholarshiped shipped, whatever, at CITY ARTS CENTER, for their Spring Break Camp. The slight problem is the ratio of children to teachers.
Every day, I have received a call from the office telling me Mer was dying from a rare incurable disease, and could I please come down asap? (Hold on, the male cat that uses me for food is screaming at my window) I also broke a toe somehow yesterday...ANYWAY...
So my week has been filled with running down to CAC after my noon meeting, and hanging out with...well, with all the kids. It's pretty funny (not funny) how once I arrive, and sometimes before I arrive, Mer bounces back from the gates of death and rallys! So I end up helping some kid named Venus, or Rafael put together their "Dream Box's" while Mer acts as if I don't exist...go fig?
Yesterday, I got tied up after the routine call came in from the front office telling me once again Mer was on his last leg. I made the mistake of going to the grocery store first to buy a stupid dozen eggs because some jerks stuck Jesus on a stake...
I was inadvertently LATE getting to CAC, and I shit you not when I saw my kid he was one giant red splotch.
HIVES!
OH Lordy I have BROKEN my kid again!
I gently removed Mer from the main art class, taking him to a corner room with bean-baggy-chairs, we struggled through some visualization techniques, but Mer was having none of that "Eye closing thing"...
Being his fathers son, he of course was not TALKING to me, and all I could think was what I would want at that moment "Mer, do you want to go outside and play?"
"YES!"
So, we did.
The entire week has been a struggle for Mer.
Day one he made the executive decision to "class up" with the 5-7 year olds.
Telling me the 9-12 year olds were too rough with him, pushing him around because he was so little. Hmmm.
Instead, he's had to deal with 'screaming heathens' all week. (Mer's words not mine)
How do I help this little guy face the world without hives, without getting his head routinely thumped by those around him?
I've loved the time spent with these kids all week, it's beyond me how anyone could want to do anything other than create art with children for the rest of their lives.
Of course Mer and I don't do it at HOME or anything, not yet, but someday...maybe even soon. The pain of my past, of losing art supplies, homes with perfect light, space (storage and otherwise) can all be healed from.
On this upcoming anniversary, of a sacrifice made to the world, of Spring and new beginnings, the Equinox, remembering we are all ONE...I have found a connection to these children, not just my own splotchy, neurotic little guy who just needed to play OUTSIDE for half an hour, then was fine.
Someone, a friend I screwed over recently, by about a grand, used to tell me all the time how good I was with kids. I was on PK so I officially knew she was full o shit but she didn't. Each day that passes, each day I notice the world around me a little more (and remember the people I screwed over more clearly) I'm awakening to this REALITY I never knew existed, even pre-PK.
I'm AWAKENING to this REALITY within and without, telling me, SHOWING me, there is something so loving in this world, so healing, it might even heal me.
These kids I've worked with this week are pure, innocent, creative, alive, and DESPERATE for attention, just like Mer. The difference is, Mer knows I will come, I CAN come. While not all parents are in my wonderfully unemployable position, and I'm certain would come if they could...I like to believe they would anyway.
So the PLAN (here she goes) is to speak with the director today about a background check so can OFFICIALLY volunteer. I, at least have THAT going for me...a clean record, and GOD KNOWS how that happened?
Calamine lotion, hugs, watching "Lost" together on my bed...
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