The Monster

The wonderful thing about being a teacher is that, although my position and pay grade is that of being Early Childhood Education Teacher, I get to be a hundred different things every day. I'm an artist when I plan and design projects. I'm a doctor when we take out the toy stethoscope and I'm trying to revive my patients. I own a prestigious French restaurant with all kinds of foods, design railroads that cross the country, foresee the construction of skyscrapers and their permits in an industrial hub, and I hand select animals for a variety of private zoos. Then all at once, I'm told that my leg is broken, and I'll need a shot immediately. As a restaurant customer, I'm being served a choice of worms or spicy peppers that make my mouth swell up. Towers fall, carefully designed art projects turn into a free lance Picasso, traffic jams cause major delays on the railroads, and the animals in the zoo are eating each other.

Me, Ms. Bre, and the kids on Firefighter Day

But one of the most fun personalities I take on (aside from being a firefighter for Firefighter Day, which was frickin awesome), is that of an entity simply known as "the Monster." We don't quite know what the monster is, whether he's human or half human or some kind of animal. It doesn't really matter. But one thing is very clear: the monster is not a nice guy. He runs around on the playground, looking to snatch innocent little kids and maybe even turning one or two into a snack. At all costs, one cannot be caught by the monster. So what do you do when the monster is coming after you? Run!

Being the monster is an immense responsibility, as scary as he is. You have to run slower for some kids (2 year olds), while catching others is actually quite the challenge (5 year olds). You have to chase each kid equally, otherwise you'll get taunted and booed. If they make a dash onto the top of the playground structure or into the house, you can't chase them. And you have to do all this while making sure the kids are safe while running and not pushing each other or tripping and hurting themselves. When parents arrive to sign their kids out at end of the day, you're completely out of breath.

But like every other personality in being a preschool teacher, things can go array, and they will very quickly and unexpectedly on the playground. See, our playground is a structure inside of a box of wood chips, and we rely on 'honor' keeping kids from running off the wood chips. This, in my humble opinion, is a terrible design. You can tell the kids a hundred times to stay on the wood chips and not to run off the playground, and 90% will stay on. But it's that 10% that frequently go off you always have to have your eye on. And somehow, at the end of the day when there's only 10 kids left on the playground and waiting to be picked up, 4 of them will be runners.

A few days ago, in possibly the worst situation imaginable, somehow all four kids run off the playground all at the exact same time. Now, I'm not athletic per say, but I am reasonably fast, and in the moment reflexes quickly set in that you didn't know you had. I go for the one running toward the cars first. I quickly scoop him up and plop him back on the wood chips. With no time to try and redirect him, I run for the one going through the open doors back inside, while another teacher is running after the one that's already made it into the tall grass fifty feet away. I quickly scan the halls, find the kid, run him back, and come back to chase down the last kid. And finally, we are all back safe and sound.

Two Trips and a Fall

All this running around takes quite a toll on you, even when you're only 22 years old. So one night, after an incredibly tiring week of work, I wake up in the middle of the night with my knee in probably the most pain I’ve ever felt in my life. I’ve never broken a bone, never had any real surgery other than my wisdom teeth out (and that didn’t even hurt that much), and I had no idea why my knee was suddenly cramping and aching. I’m not old enough for that yet, right? I didn’t know what had happened (though in hindsight, I probably sprained or bruised my knee from chasing the kids so much), and naturally, I was kind of terrified. Not because my knee hurt and I didn’t know why, but because it was right before Columbus Day weekend. See, a break like this doesn’t come all too often, and I had a lot planned. In the morning, I was going to wake up early with my Dad and step-mom and visit my sister in New York City, who I hadn't seen since August. Sunday I was probably going to go on a hike in the Catskills, and Monday I had a hike planned in the Adirondacks with my cousins. All of this was going to involve a lot of walking, and I didn’t want to let a sudden knee cramp be the reason I couldn’t do any of the stuff I wanted to.

So, stubborn as I am, I woke up again at 5:30 in the morning (on a weekend, mind you) to get ready for the trip to New York. Everything was laid out for us to get there: drive to a bus station in Jersey, take the bus to Port Authority, walk to Grand Central, and meet my sister there. Only, the problem is, that’s as far as planning usually goes in my family. That’s not always a bad thing; my entire trip to Tasmania was three days of 100% spontaneity and I managed just fine in finding things to do. But with my family, it can take a long time to figure out what to do and how to do it. And so despite waking up at 5:30, we didn’t actually end up getting to doing really anything in the city until noon.

All in all though, that was kind of okay, because the rest of the day was packed. We started in Central Park, looking to explore the fall foliage in what was probably seventy-degree weather. Strolling past fountains, admiring beautiful gardens, awing all kinds of dogs, and avoiding being trampled by the hundreds of Central Park joggers (who I now I have a particular disdain for), we were able to spend a good three hours aimlessly wandering around. Done with that, we made our way to Brooklyn, to check out the views of Lower Manhattan, the Statue of Liberty, and the Brooklyn Bridge. My sister and I had been before, so we got to be the ‘tour guides’, navigating the streets and suburbs finding all kinds of picturesque views my Dad and I took full advantage of. At the end of the day, we went back to Upper Manhattan to bring my sister back to Grand Central while the three of us wandered around the city at night. Fourteen miles of walking later, we made it home just as my knee was starting to act up again.

Sunday being spent relatively easy, Monday I prepared for a hike up to the Adirondacks with the cousins. Now, I love my cousins, but among us, there are very different levels of hikers. The oldest Erica is an avid hiker, having done all but 10 the Adirondack High Peaks. I’m very good at hiking, but I make a lot of stops for pictures. There’s those in the front, and the middle, and the back, and J.J. in the back of the back climbing on rocks and trees the whole way through. So what starts as seven of us together as a pack within half a mile turns into a caravan stretching like a rubber band. Only four or five miles round trip it was a fairly easy hike, and my cousins teasing me the whole way through, offered a lot of nice fall pictures. Once at the top, the view was phenomenal. So impressive, actually, once adventurous J.J. was now slightly terrified of the edge. We all got our pictures and our selfies, and if not for the fact that just ONE of us wasn’t there (poor Shelby), we might have the perfect Christmas present for our grandparents.

(Quick announcement- both the New York City (not completely done) and Adirondack photo galleries are now up on the website, go check them and my other photo galleries out!)

Seeing as no one got pushed off the mountain, I’d say it was a success.

A Month of Spooks and Scares

Sometimes, no matter how much fun you’re having or how smooth things are going in life, things happen that just freak you out. You’re not always prepared, or ready, or comfortable for what lies ahead. And though it’s scary sometimes, it’s life. Your car breaks suddenly don’t work right and you’re plagued with the thought you may need to buy a new car. You get nervous for parent teacher conferences and aren’t even sure really how to handle the situation. You have a lock-down drill at school and you haven’t done one of those since middle school. But usually, things aren’t as bad as they seem. The lock-down drill, though it threw the entire schedule into a loop for the rest of the day, went fine. The parent teacher conferences I was worried about weren’t as bad as I had thought, and I felt comfortable and confident sitting beside my experienced coworkers and administrators. And having my uncle look at my car and get me brand new brakes only cost a tank and a half of gas (and a little bit of hands on help changing them with him, which I always enjoy).

Both the New York City and Adirondack trips, as fun as they were, had their heart-stopping moments too. On a different trip to the Adirondacks a week after the last (this time, only with the cousins who really enjoyed and were capable of serious hiking), we got to the top of the mountain to realize it was covered in ice and frost. And it was still the middle of October. Now, I’m decent at hiking, but winter hiking is a whole new level of crazy I wasn't sure I was ready for. You need good boots, gear, gloves, and frankly a lot of balls. Honestly, I had no idea if I could even do it (at least I wasn’t wearing shorts). For the last half mile or more, we had to make our way through icy crevasses, up slippery slopes, and once at the top, all the way back down again. Was it worth it? For me, yes. For my cousin who earlier slipped into the river and was on his way toward pneumonia? Well, he still has the leg, so probably.

In New York, I experienced a different kind of fright, though one I’ve experienced many times before: that of there being too many damn people out. I can do New York. I can manage the crowds, find my way through the streets, feel safe and secure and reasonably in charge. At least, during the day. But I swear, some kind of switch triggers once the sun goes down where the number of people on the streets multiplies by ten. I get tired, confused, lost, and after a long day of doing stuff, I’m ready to be home (which of course, is three hours away). But at the same time, given enough adjustment and time, the chaos of the city at night slows down and transforms into something beautiful. Yeah there's lots of people and bright lights and enough horns honking to drive any reasonable person insane. But give it long enough, and it even starts become somewhat peaceful.

"The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself"-Franklin D. Roosevelt

Whether surrounded by crowds at night in Manhattan, on top of an unexpectedly snowy peak in the mountains, snuggled up with a kid during a lock-down drill, or helping your uncle change your brakes, the scary things usually end up being not so bad. There’s a lot scary about life, the small things, the medium size things, and the big things. More often than not though, it’s amazingly rewarding. Getting to be a fireman and play around with the kids while dragging around the full suit (and getting the helmet stuck and not being able to breathe). Laughing with your cousins as you joke about pushing them off the mountain. From chasing kids on the playground to finding out that one of your cousins is having a baby and that you’re going to (kind of) be an uncle (I’m so excited!!!!), life can be unexpected, and crazy, and scary. But then again, it’s way too much fun to miss out on.