Well, since it’s only Thursday, I haven’t actually survived VBS yet, but I’m counting on making it through the final five hours tomorrow.
And, y’all! I’m enjoying myself…for the most part. I’m a kindergarten rotation leader, so I basically have to keep 20-25 6-year-olds in line, pottied, and not crying for four hours. Thankfully, I have a fellow (well-seasoned) adult leader and two youths (not to be confused with Schmidt’s “street youths“), so I’m not running around like a frantic mother hen.
I’ve decided 6-year-olds are the best VBS age, and here’s why:
- I’ve never lead any other age, so I don’t know any better.
- They still think the little, paper crafts are awesome.
- They attempt the dance moves, which are suuuper hard, and this makes them adorable.
- Kids say the darndest things.
- They actually respond to my “mom voice”.
So, I recently turned 30. Does this mean I’ve officially reached a new state of out-of-touchness? I ask because I had a very enlightening conversation with one of my 6-year-old girls during craft time today.
Mama: So, Sarah, what’s your favorite thing to do?
Sarah (whose name isn’t actually “Sarah”): I like to dab.
Mama: Wait. What? Did you just say “dab”?
Sarah: Yes. I like to dab.
Mama: That’s some kind of dance, right?
Other adult leader: OK, everyone! Time to go to rec! Let’s line up!
Mama: *breathes sigh of relief at interruption*
Side Note: In order to share with you, dear reader, I subjected myself to some in-depth research. Or, rather, a brief Google/YouTube search. Here’s what I found on the subject of “dabbing”. I apologize for linking to a video with some language.
There. Now you can be in the know should a 6-year-old tell you she loves to “dab”.
I also heard this darndest thing from a different girl:
“Why did my brother get candy? It’s not fair! He has more sugar than me. We should always have the same amount of sugar.”
I had no good answer for this child other than, “Sweetheart. I think it’s clear you need significantly less amounts of sugar.” Whenever candy is around, she gets this C.R.A.Z.Y. look in her eye and hardcore pouts if the bowl passes her by. Shudder.
I find it amusing to make periodic contact with fellow VBS leaders. We have that vague, exhausted “comrades of war” look about us. Like, “Hey. You doing all right? T-minus 47.34 minutes before pick-up. Hang in there, friend.” I’ve also started having nightmares where in I lose a child or can’t remember someone’s name. I’M IN TOO DEEP!
I have enjoyed getting to know these kids, though. I’ve never been much of a kid person, but since George is more “kid” than “baby” these days, I’m getting a handle on the lingo. I don’t just awkwardly sit there and ask inane too-old-and-too-boring questions like, “So, how are your parents?” Some little kid always wants to hold my hand when we walk somewhere, and, although I don’t love the germy contact, I do love the sweetness behind it.
And so, after all of my 20-some children get picked up by their real parents, I skedaddle to the nursery for Olivia and George (the 3-year-olds have their own version of pseudo-VBS). We schlep home and scarf down a PB&J, then George heads to quiet time in his room, while Mama and Cora get some shut-eye. Yesterday, I awoke from my two-hour couch nap to a very quiet house. I nervously began looking for George. And here’s what I found…
His little, 3-year-old self couldn’t escape nap time, even if he’s convinced that “big boys” don’t need naps.
I hope your summer is going well! I’d love to hear other VBS stories, as I’m certain there are miiillions of them.