In addition to writing, I have a day job - daycare to be exact. I take care of kids before and after school and all day long in the summer - I've done it for the last sixteen or seventeen years. Most days, I genuinely enjoy it. I love kids. I love how they think. I love their senses of humor and their creativity. I even love their stubborn determination.
Syd Vicious, my eldest daycare kiddo started when she was five weeks old and is now 16 and dating some boy and not coming to daycare anymore but still calling me several times a month for a ride to school when she misses the bus. She also bakes me cheesecakes and come to visit "just because."
Jess started when she was eighteen months old and is now is 13, boy crazy, is desperate to be Goth and insanely creative - I'm teaching her to sew and she's designing her own clothes.
Abby aka B (because love her though I do, she is a big one) is Jess' sister and started when she was two weeks old and is now 9. While she no longer plays pet proctologist, she's still nuts about animals and very sweet.
Then there's The Young Prince. Don't get me wrong, I care about him, I really do, but right now he's pissing me off beyond belief.
I have never met a person - child or adult with such an overdeveloped sense of entitlement. At 10, one would think that he'd realize that the world does not revolve around him. Alas, he does not. He doesn't seem to understand that homework isn't something that only happens to other kids. He demands to be waited on, spoon fed the answers to his assignments and allowed to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. This doesn't fly at my house. It never has, and it's not about to start.
I've had this particular child in my care for four years, and I'm sure it will surprise no one when I say his mother is exactly the same way. It's all about her, her her. His mother, despite having very little discernable income, buys him things constantly. Cell phones, video games, video game systems to keep him from pestering her and then wonders why A.) she has no money and B.) why he's so demanding. Gosh...let me think.
This morning I've been warned that he got up at 12:30 am and stayed up all night dinking around on the computer. Which means that by the time I get him in the afternoon, he'll be a bloody nightmare. Before you ask, I'm not making enough money writing yet to give up my day job. Some days I want to scream. I suspect this afternoon may be one of them.
BTW, about my (latest) spectacular fall. I'm okay - just sore and bruised and oh so clumsy.
Anny! I'm so glad you liked MC - made my day! :)
Now on to things that require no bitching...free books!
Eternally Yours Contest
What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire? Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.
The prizes –1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books
Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.
Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle
12 comments:
Kids...hmmm...
Kids, good. Sense of entitlement, bad.
I feel for you! Hope there's some wine or something at the end of the looooong day.
I spoil my midget too. Alot. Probably more than I should. But I make sure that she appreciates everything that she has. She understands the hard work that goes into her getting new toys and that she has to work just as hard as mommy if she wants to continue to be spoiled. She always does her homework, she (sort of) keeps her room clean, and she also writes.
I love to spoil her, but she knows the second she takes it for granted it is gone.
Dakota
P.S. I am glad you are ok.
Sounds like you're a wonderful provider if you have kids who still want to hang out with you, even past the point of daycare. Says a lot about your mothering skills!
On that note, can I send one of mine your way? Huh? Can I? Pleeeaaase?
Just kidding:)
Hmm. I know this child only he is a she and has blonde hair and looks exactly like the Disney rendition of Sleeping Beauty. But under the shiny, blond surface lurks...ONE OF SATAN'S MINIONS!! And she is my daughter's "best" (school) friend.
And stop rolling round on the basement steps and write something already! (glad you are not hurt ;)
XOXO
Sommer
Duct tape works.
Were you going up or down the stairs? I picture you going up.
Can't wait to see you this weekend!
Too bad we have to work isn't it?
Sandra
Great, in two years he'll be of the age of my little darlings. I have one who is the most arrogant human being I have ever met in my life. EVER! And he's 12. He's too good for the students, my class, my school, etc. He's brilliant but obnoxious. I told him the other day (when I'd had it) that the reason he was stuck in a "regular reading class" was because the foreign language teachers refused to have to deal deal with him. That's why he has the minimum "gifted" classes. No one wants to deal with him.
The prince needs to be booted. A lot. Let me do it. I don't like kids :)
Brynn, please come and boot my 13 year old. You won't mind a vacation to sunny Florida, right?
Bronwyn, good luck to you with your problem child. As far as the girl who makes you cheesecakes - she's a keeper. Can you clone her and send the clone this way?
I'm sorry you fell down. I can't wait to see you this weekend, far away from stairs and children.
Maybe just children.
Bruised rump, Me? I figured you must have been pretty okay or you'd have said something. Silly Fred for not checking.
I have a teaching background but realized straight off I didn't like other people's children. My own, fine, because I can control them. Very well behaved in fact. Other people's, I talk to. When they get snotty, I walk awaaaaaay before I smack the mother.
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