It occurred to me today that I am little more than a glorified jungle gym to the kids at The Children's Center. Yet despite the pink fingerpaint all over my shirt and the fact that EVERY INCH of my body hurts from being climbed on/collided into/and whacked in the head with a big floppy hat, I absolutely love volunteering at The Children's Center. On the playground today, while I was chasing three screaming kids while simultaneously carrying two others and roaring like a dinosaur (because we were playing dinosaur tag, people) I realized something: I could do this my entire life. I mean, I guess eventually osteoporosis might set in (because I hate milk. It is vile. Seriously. Vile.) and I'll have to do a little less child-carrying, but still. I adore other people's children the way most parents are content to care for their own. I am not afraid of boogers, spit or vomit as long as it comes from a little person (adults need to take care of their own bodily fluids, thank you very much). I can spend half an hour building block towers repeatedly so every kid gets a chance to knock them down. And I never get bored reading If You Give a Mouse A Cookie over and over and over! Okay, okay, maybe a little bored, but that's why they came out with If You Give a Moose a Muffin. See? Boredom vanquished.
The POINT to this rambling post (yes, there is a point, yeesh) is that I'm sort of starting to wonder if I really want to be a child psychologist. It's an ambitious goal and it would be wicked cool to get my Ph.D. I also think I really could help kids. But an increasing part of me just wants to run a preschool out of my basement. When I have a basement, of course, because right now I have a dollhouse-esque apartment. But I get caught up in daydreams of little chairs and snacks and toys and new crayons and pink roses blooming outside next to the sandbox.
I dunno, part of this might be a knee-jerk reaction to the fact that the GRE is more terrifying than The Hills Have Eyes. So I'll keep both options in mind, try my best, and see where life takes me. But there's something appealing in the thought of being the curly-haired preschool teacher who helps instill an early love of reading, music and possibly a little math (but not TOO much math) in her students, is there?
The GRE is not that bad. You will do great on it. Also, you are funny.
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