To Laugh

Do you know what I loved about my job at summer camp? Who I was.
Not to say I was someone other than me, that I had switched personalities or anything...on the contrary, I was simply me. The beauty about my job was that, it didn't matter what I wore, how how I looked...the kids still loved me. They still hung out with me, they didn't give me weird looks, they didn't expect me to look polished. All they wanted was my attention, for me to laugh at their jokes, to spin the jumprope for them, to hold hula hoop contests with them, to draw pictures with them, to talk to them, to connect with them, to be silly, to joke, to smile, to make silly faces, to laugh...

I was more me than I've ever been on any job. And the beautiful thing was, being around those children made me confident that who I am, as a person, is okay. In fact, it's more than okay...I'm great as me. These children boosted my confidence in ways that no one else could!

Tiny hands slipping into mine as they said quietly with ease, "I love you, Samantha." *heartmelt*

Strong, small arms gripped around my waist as they yell, "HUG TIME!"

Sneaky grins as they shout, "Heads up!" and throw frisbees at my head.

Bursts of giggles as they watch me demonstrate the hula dance moves we learned...very, very awkwardly.

So much patience as they taught me to hula hoop properly.

But best of all, shared laughter as we proved just how silly we could be, how silly *I* could be. The fake voices, the idiotic dances, silly songs, fish faces, and the confidence and self-esteem to pull it all off without once feeling self-conscious.

Because with my kiddos, it didn't matter. There was no feeling self-conscious with my kids. They saw me for who I was, whether or not I looked a wreck or looked awkwardly dorky. And they still loved me for it. They probably loved me all the more because of it. And instead of feeling incredibly self-conscious or embarrassed, I found myself laughing. Not really at myself or at anything in particular...just laughing because there was the love to laugh all around me.

At camp I found that life is surrounded by opportunities of laughter. When you feel like a dork, when someone does something silly, even when nothing is particularly funny but you feel a surge of happiness you just laugh.

Shyness, tears, loneliness, grumpiness...it's all taken away when you sit down next to a child and begin to talk, to share stories, to grin, make silly faces...all leading to laughter.
Those kiddos of mine showed me how wonderful it is to be me.

They taught me to laugh.

To Breathe

"Sam! Sam! Sit down!" Tiny hands attached to one of

my kiddos grabs mine and pulls me to sit on the curb

next to her. 

"What?" I ask. 

"Watch this. I'm going to

breathe like a fish." She puckers up her lips and tries to

breathe as she squishes her cheeks in and out. She can't

hold it for long, bursting into giggles.

"You try."

I fail miserably.

"No, no, like this!" She places her sweaty palms on my

cheeks and squishes them.

"I'll teach you to breathe!" she says.

Breathing. Lately, I feel like I haven't had much room for breathing. My inner alarm clock wakes me promptly at 5:30 a.m., upon which, I wake up in a panic every morning, thinking I've slept past my real alarm...the one on my phone. I grab my phone, yanking it out of it's charge-mode and frantically press the button, head crashing back down onto my pillow when I see, "5:32 a.m." glaring white at me. It's useless to try to go back to sleep, as I have to get up in half an hour. 

6:00 a.m. brings on the rushing to get ready, the scramble to scoop up a pair of clean shorts, my staff t-shirt, socks...socks? WHERE THE HELL ARE MY SOCKS??? ...and then dashing into the shower. I am in the car by 7:20 a.m., heading to work. From 7:30-12:30, I am in charge of my kiddos, laughing, playing, running around, jump roping, counting, and on my feet for five hours. 

I rush home, stopping only long enough to grab something to eat, shower and change before heading to my second job at the library. From 1:30-5:30, I am swamped. The system is down, books are piling up to be checked in...the kids yelling, mothers looking for books, and a sewing class to help teach. 

I get out of work, stopping to grab paychecks from my 1st job and make a pit-stop at home to grab something to eat for dinner. I then head back out to do the errands I have no time to do during the day. 

I make it home, put things away, gather up my laundry and start a load. I tidy my room, check my work email, and finally collapse. 

I sit here, remembering my kiddo teaching me to breathe, realizing that it's those tiny, in-between moments when I do stop to breathe. When tiny hands pull me to sit down. A moment at work where I stop to say hi to a co-worker. A moment of driving in my car, listening to Two Steps From Hell. A moment of reading a letter that arrived in the mail. A moment of pausing in the middle of a work email to smell the newly cut grass smell drifting in the window. 

Short, brief moments during a crazy rushing day, where it feels like I breathe on autopilot. Each day has it's moments of craziness and moments where I feel like my head is completely heavy from tiredness. But my kiddos? They stop me. They pull me down, place their fingers on my cheeks and teach me to breathe. So I'd make a bad fish (seeing as our group name is the Sunfish, that's awkward!), but they make me laugh, they make my day, they melt my heart with their cute ways of showing me they like me. 

They teach me to breathe. 

To Smile

Smile. 

I am working as a camp counselor at a day camp. I am in charge of the younger children's group...the 5-7 year olds. 

As I stand watch over them at lunch time, I look across the pavilion, and the eyes of one of my kiddos catches mine. 

Their whole face lights up in the widest smile you can imagine. It is so infectious, that you can't help but smile back. It is so sweet and adoring that you just grin with delight. 

I stand, watching my kids playing, getting along. I smile as I see my youngest kiddo comforting her older friend over a scraped knee. 

I smile as I see the lil boys admiring the blood they acquire from a fall. 

I smile when I see a kiddo running toward me, arms out-stretched, ready to tackle me in a hug. 

I smile when I'm greeted each morning with a, "SAAAAAM! Guess WHAT??" The excitement, the enthusiasm, the delight, the joy I see every day in my kiddos. It is addicting, it is infectious. 

Even on the days that my kids are dropped off in tears because they don't want their moms to leave...minutes later, they see me and turn those frowns upside down. 

These kids teach me every day to greet life with a smile. To smile through the tears, to seize each moment with utter delight! To be so enthralled with life and the opportunities in front of me with such enthusiasm. To love life to the fullest. 

These kids teach me to smile.