SAA Ep. 51: Cleverly Disguised as a Responsible Adult

I just watched "Finding Neverland."  I watched the entire movie.  I've only watched it once before (my roommate owns it), and honestly, I didn't like it very much, which is surprising.  I love Johnny Depp.  I love Kate Winslet.  I love Dustin Hoffman, although it was strange seeing him in something Peter Pan related where he wasn't playing the best Captain Hook EVER.  On a related note, I also thought I liked Peter Pan.  I actually read the book for the first time a few weeks ago, and I was underwhelmed.  It wasn't all bad, of course, but after seeing a gazbillion different adaptations of Peter Pan, the book wasn't very magical anymore.  And I suspect J. M. Barrie was a better playwright than he was a novelist.

Playwright?  Is that wright?  Shouldn't it be playwrite, since a playwright is someone who, you know, writes plays?  ...I'm getting off subject.  Actually, I was already off subject to begin with, and I've gotten further off subject.

I liked "Finding Neverland" better the second time, though I still can't say it's one of my favorite movies.  So, why on a Saturday evening, would I be watching a movie I don't like?  I mean, I'm socially awkward and don't have a swingin' social life or anything, but I could always just go to sleep.  The older I get, the more exciting it is to go to sleep.  Maybe that's why I don't like "Finding Neverland."  Maybe it's because I've grown up too much understand it.

Only, I haven't grown up.  And that's what this post is actually supposed to be about.  I'm getting there.

See, I watched "Finding Neverland" in its entirety because I was looking for one of the quotes in the film.  I couldn't find this particular quote online anywhere, and that bothered me.  But I really really wanted to get this quote, so I watched the movie.  The quote wasn't in the movie.  I flipped back through the scenes, thinking I'd just missed it somehow, or perhaps just forgotten which film it was in.  Then I remembered.

The quote wasn't actually in the movie.  It was in the deleted scenes.

Fail.

I watched an entire hour-and-a-half long movie that I don't even like when I could have watched a minute long clip from the deleted scenes menu.  Fail.  Fail. Fail.

No wonder I couldn't find the quote online.

Well, now maybe someone can find the quote online, because I'm going to post it:

Michael (small boy): Why haven't you had any children?
J.M. Barrie: Well, that's a very good question that I'm afraid I don't quite know the answer to, but I suppose it's because only grown-ups can have children.
Michael: Oh.  All right.

Though I didn't care too much for the film, I remembered this scene (and sort of wish now that they hadn't edited it out).  I can relate to this scene.  To the innocent bystander, I look like a responsible adult.  But I suspect that one of the reasons why the good Lord has not allowed me to (get married and) have children is because...well...maybe you really do have to be a grown-up to have children.  And I'm not really a grown-up.

For example, sometimes, when I see a kid I really like (this typically happens to me about 38 times or more in the course of any given day), I start acting a little silly.  Kids like that, see.  And then the kid starts acting silly.  Then I start acting a little sillier.  Then the kid starts acting ridiculously silly, and the parent starts fussing at the kid. 

And I exit.  Stage left. 

Then there was this one time a bunch of people I knew met at a park to walk or run.  I ran past a family I know pretty well, and the kids suddenly decided they were gonna start running with Miss Ruth instead of staying with their mom. 

I admit, somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice said, "Miss Ruth, maybe you should make sure that the mom knows her kids are with you and that they're safe.  That would be the responsible adult sort of thing to do."  Then the kid in me said, "Nah!  They'll be fine! Let's just RUN!" 

And I proceeded to literally run off with her kids.

A few minutes later the kids' dad ran up to his kids and said, "Your mom doesn't know where you are.  You're supposed to stay with her." 

Oops. 

So, I've found myself apologizing to parents a LOT for getting their kids in trouble.  The parents always say things like, "Oh, it's not your fault.  They know better."  But my thought is, "Do they?  They're kids.  I don't really have that excuse.  I'm supposedly a responsible adult.  I'm the one who is supposed to know better."

I guess you don't have to move to Neverland in order to stay a kid forever.  You just have to be a socially awkward superhero. 

And I'd wright write more about that, but I just realized there's an old skool Batman rerun on tv!  KAPOW!

SSA Ep. # 30: The Low Blood Sugar Monster

Today at work, I got really hungry.  I've been dieting all year...and I dieted a lot last year until Thanksgiving and Christmas took over my eating life.  Anyway, I've kind of had a rhythm going.  Breakfast, snack, snack, (late) lunch, snack, snack, dinner, then NO MORE EATING TILL BREAKFAST TOMORROW.  I've known exactly how many calories to eat and exactly when to eat them.

But lately, I've gotten pretty close to my weight loss goal.  I wouldn't mind losing another five or ten pounds (preferably ALL from my tummy and/or thighs).  But I'm starting to notice that my body is changing a little.  It's shifting from "OH HECK YEAH!  LET'S BURN OFF ALL THIS FAT!" mode to "actually, we kind of would like to keep just a little of this fat, if that's okay with you" mode.  What that means is that I'm getting hungrier.  My body is demanding more calories. 

But I'm a creature of habit, and today I just didn't want to deviate from my snack/meal routine.  The problem was, I was at work with a whole lot of little short people (aka children) running around.  And I got hungry.  I got very hungry.

No worries.  This story does NOT end with me eating a child.

But it did end up with me turning into the Low Blood Sugar Monster.  This monster is no where near as fun as the Tickle Monster...or the Hug Monster...or the Brainzzz-Eating Monster.

Yes, today, without warning, I turned into the Low Blood Sugar Monster.  Well, okay...so there were warnings.  For one thing, I was ravenously hungry, and should have, well, eaten something, instead of being so determined to stick to my eating schedule.  Then, I was also ridiculously cold.  I'm usually a pretty hot-natured person, so the fact that I was having to steal a kids' blankie to trap in my body heat should have clued me in that there was a problem.

And then came the really interesting part.  One of the other grown-ups was trying to tell me that one of the kid's parents had come.  I heard her the first time she said it, but I couldn't find the child.  So I started walking towards the front of the room to see if the kid was up there.  The other grown-up kept saying "So-and-so's mom is here" as if I couldn't understand her.  I nodded to let her know I understood.  Again, this grown-up said, "SO-AND-SO'S MOM IS HERE!"

Well, the Low Blood Sugar Monster came out in full force.  "I KNOW!" the Low Blood Sugar Monster growled fiercely.  "I CAN'T FIND SO-AND SO!"

The other grown-up realized that I had transformed from mild-mannered child care professional into a dangerous beast of some sort, and immediately left the lobby area to join me in the play area.  She was probably running an escape plan in her mind..."How do I get the kids away from the evil Miss Ruth without alerting her to my plans?"

Then she pointed.  Little so-and-so whose mom had just arrived was standing directly behind me.

I decided it was time to go have a snack.

Later, after my blood sugar and sanity had returned to somewhat stable levels, the other grown-up described the Low Blood Sugar Monster scene to me from her perspective.  It was frocked with humor.  That's right, I just used the phrase "frocked with humor."  Get over it. 

She described the Low Blood Sugar Monster as looking somewhat like a bag lady, with her hair tossed up into a messy bun and a raggedy child's blanket around her shoulders.  She didn't seem to have a very good grasp of the English language since she didn't realize she was supposed to be getting a child that was standing directly behind her.  When she attempted to communicate, her "words" came out in a series of loud, angry, gutteral growls.  She was like a mental patient.

All in all, I'd say the Low Blood Sugar Monster would be a LOT of fun at parties.

On a side note, when I finally did get my snack, this kid came up and asked me to help him with a Wii game.  I told him this:

"Have your parents ever told you that it's dangerous to disturb an animal while its eating?"

The kid shrugged.  "Yeah."

I smiled sweetly at him and said, "Well, don't disturb me while I'm eating, either.  I will be with you in a moment."

I think I need to start upping my calorie intake, lest the Low Blood Sugar Monster make another appearance.  Hooray for eating more!

SAA Ep. # 29: Adventures in...Child Care Professionaling?

Before I go any further, let's get one thing straight.  I am NOT a babysitter.  I am a child care provider.  A child care professional, if you will.  What does that mean? 

It means I'm a glorified babysitter.

If you had told me eleven years ago that I would be working in childcare for a living, I would have laughed and laughed at you.  It wasn't that I hated kids, but I wasn't aware that I liked them very much.  I only realized I liked them due to a coincidence.  ...if you believe in coincidences, which I don't.

I spent five summers of my life working at Ridgecrest Baptist Conference Center.  I knew about this place because my dad worked there way back in the 60's, and my sister worked there one summer in the late 90's.  I had never had a job before (and I was 20 years old...pathetic?  Yes.), so I figured I'd give it a shot.  The first summer, they stuck me in the laundry department.  So I folded towels and sheets for an entire summer, and for some odd reason, I liked it.  So when the next summer rolled around, I decided to go back and I requested the laundry department again.

Imagine my surprise when I got a phone call from a friendly volunteer lady asking me what size t-shirt I would need for the preschool department.  I was like, "Um, I didn't know I was going to be in the preschool department.  I don't really like kids.  Can I be in laundry again?"  But she was just a friendly volunteer lady who didn't know anything about it, so I figured I'd just suck it up for a summer and work with kids.

But that summer, to my amazement, I found out I really liked kids.  I found out that they were pretty much awesome.  And I went back to that summer preschool program three times after that. 

If you count those summers and all the odd childcare jobs I've had, including the almost five years of being a nanny (for three different families) and the over five year gig at the drop-in childcare center, I've been a child care professional for about a decade.

Wow.

And now that I think about it, a person of my particular talents is probably pretty well equipped to be a childcare professional.  I can sing like Mary Poppins and/or Maria from the Sound of Music (I can't magically jump into chalk sidewalk pictures or make playclothes out of curtains, but nobody's perfect...except for Mary Poppins).  I can accurately mimic the sounds of a chicken, a cat, a dog, a frog, a duck, an elephant, a horse, AND a velociraptor (my version of Old McDonald is the stuff of legend).   I can make practically anything out of fuse beads.  Oh, and I'm BFFs with Santa Claus AND the Easter Bunny, which isn't a talent, per se, but it's still pretty cool to a five year old.

But over the years, I've learned some things.  I've learned that kids are full more bodily fluids than I even knew existed, and I've learned that I actually DO have the ability to hold back my gag reflex long enough to clean them up (most of the time).  I've learned that "Tom and Jerry" has magical powers to keep kids of all ages entertained for more than ten minutes.  I've learned that the pizza man being late with his delivery IS a life or death situation.  I've learned that kids say the most hilarious things ever.  I've learned that strong-willed children are often my favorites (yes, I have favorites)...probably because I'm strong-willed, too.

There have been scary things to happen to me in childcare.  Like the time I went to the bathroom and heard the girls I watch say, "What will happen if we throw it down the stairs?"  I'm stuck on the potty (yes, I call it a potty), unable to move, wondering what they're trying to throw down the stairs.  Their mother's vase?  The television set?  The betta fish?  Their little sister?  Turns out, it was just a hacky sack...but I had a mini panic attack before I was able to figure that out.

Let me be honest, here.  I work three (or four, if you count MOPS...or five if you count the random babysitting jobs I sometimes do) jobs in the childcare field.  That gets stressful.  That gets tiring.  Sometimes, it just gets downright old.

But despite all the stress and frustration that comes with taking care of kids, I really am grateful to have so many wonderful kids (and parents) in my life.  The kids at the preschool where I teach (and by teach, I have to admit that my skills are limited to shapes, numbers, colors, animal noises, and "It isn't nice to sit on your friends") just had a music/arts program this past week.  After my class did their portion of the program (they're all 2 or younger, so they basically just stood on stage while I prayed they wouldn't cry...or fall off the stage), I just went into the audience and watched the other kids sing and dance.  I was suddenly just overwhelmed with the knowledge that God's given me the opportunity to love so many kids.

Yes, I would like to eventually be able to support myself just with my writing.  I'd love to be able to call myself a full-time author.  Right now, though, I'm very much enjoying my life with all these fantastic kids.  I get to help shape these little lives, and that's a huge responsibility.  It's also a great joy.

If I ever do get to the point where I can quit my jobs and just write for a living, I have a feeling I'll miss working with kids.  But for now, I'm just loving my life and being VERY grateful for "Tom and Jerry."

SAA Ep. # 17: That's Not My Name, That's Not My Name

Today I was leaving the preschool where I work, when this mom I know...eh, fairly well...said hi to me. It took me about 0.43 seconds too long to respond to her greeting because she called me the wrong name. Now, it wasn't COMPLETELY wrong, but it might as well have been. She called me "Ruth Ann," which caused me to mentally stumble before I could reply. I said "Hi" back, and then for about 5 seconds, I debated whether or not I should correct her. I figured that knowing someone "...eh, fairly well" wasn't reason enough to inform her of her little mistake. And she isn't the only one who makes that error. This one professor from college called me "Ruth Ann" all the time, and I didn't have the heart to correct him.

Yeah, I can understand that my name is slightly confusing.

I go by Ruth.

My name is Anna Ruth Campbell. I don't mind posting my full name here because 1) I'm kinda sorta trying to make a name for myself as an author, so if all goes as planned, the whole world is gonna know the name A. R. Campbell anyway. 2) There are a heck of a lot of Anna Ruth Campbells in the world. I know because I've googled myself. Socially awkward people google themselves a lot. 3) It's not like I have a lot of readers who don't know me anyway--hopefully that will change when the whole world knows me as A. R. Campbell, published author.

Sidenote #1: Agents I've queried (and some other people in the writing world) can't seem to grasp that my name is Ruth, and not Anna. This has to do with the fact that my email address has my full name in it, but when I sign my emails "Ruth Campbell," you'd think people wouldn't reply to me with a "Dear Anna." Still, "Dear Anna" is a LOT better than "Dear Author." Well, okay, so I kind of like being called an author, even though it's impersonal/automatically sent. And...sidenote done.

Please note that my name is NOT "Ruth Ann." Never ever "Ruth Ann." I'm sorry if your name is "Ruth Ann" or if you have a beloved relative named "Ruth Ann" or if you just totally love the name "Ruth Ann," but the name just sets my teeth on edge. I'm from the Pseudo-Southern state of KY, and I live in the sometimes actually Southern state of NC, but the name "Ruth Ann" is just way to country for someone like me. I'm SO grateful my parents opted NOT to name me "Ruth Ann." They were very, very close to doing so. They named me for three friends they knew--one named Ruth, one named Ann, and another named Anne. They decided not to name me "Ruth Ann(e)" because they couldn't decide how to spell the Ann(e). (If they HAD named me "Ruth Ann(e)," I would have definitely preferred it with an E. Anne Shirley/Blythe had the right idea).

Sidenote #2: I'm the only kid in my family whose name wasn't chosen before my parents even got married. They had a boy's name and a girl's name picked out. I was the second born girl, so they had to come up with something for me. I can't complain too much. I like my name, despite how common it is. I love my parents, but they had no originality in name giving. At least they didn't name any of us "Placenta," "Sh*thead" or "Lemonjello." And...sidenote done.

So yeah. I'm one of those people who goes by her middle name. I like the name Anna very much, but it's not what I go by. I have never gone by Anna. I have always gone by Ruth and don't see any reason to change that now. I feel the need to emphasize this because I've had a lot of people argue with me about what I should go by.

Sidenote #3: Once I went on a mission trip with this professor who tried to call me by my first name. When I corrected her, not only did she argue that I should go by "Anna," but she suggested I pronounce it "AH-na" instead of "Ann-NA". It was so ridiculous because she wouldn't let the subject drop. And I spent two weeks with her in a foreign land. Fun stuff. And...sidenote done.

I think there are a lot of people in the world that just don't understand that there are many people who go by their middle names. It's not so uncommon that I should get arguments about what I should go by. Sometimes parents call their kids by their middle names because they're named after their parents and they want to avoid confusion. Sometimes parents call their kids by their middle names because of the way the name combination flows. Sometimes parents just WANT to call their kids by their middle names. It doesn't matter why, really--it's just not something "people with normal names" should argue about.

Sidenote #4: There was a guy in college who's last name was Routh, pronounced Ruth. People started calling him by his last name in college, and that got confusing. One day, he was bold enough to ask me why I just didn't start going by my first name so we wouldn't get so confused. I was like, "Well, for one thing, I've been answering to Ruth all my life, and people just started calling you Routh when you came to college, so maybe YOU should start going by YOUR first name again."

Sidenote to the sidenote: When I first met this individual, I totally had a stroke of brilliance and scared him half to death. When I learned his last name was Routh, I smiled sweetly at him. The first words I ever spoke to him were: "Hi, Mr. Routh. I will never marry you." I probably should have explained my comment (I didn't want to go through life as Ruth Routh) but it was more fun to see him squirm. And...sidenotes done.

Anyway, if you're one of those people who still just doesn't understand why people go by their middle names, I can't explain it to you. Just deal with it, because we're not going to change our whole identities to make you happy. Bottom line: I like my name. I like going by Ruth (even if the majority of people who share my name are over the age of 75). If you call me "Anna," I'm not going to answer--not because I'm rude, but because I don't realize you're talking to me. Anna is a great name, and it's part of my name, but it's not the name with which I identify myself. When I meet someone with the name Anna, I usually don't automatically realize that I share part of my name with them. If someone's name is Ruth, then I immediately get excited to have met someone who shares my name.

Sidenote #5: I once met this kid named "Ruthanna," and I was REALLY excited to meet her. Cool name. Cool, cool name. And...sidenote...nevermind. You get it.

One of the biggest pet peeves I have is when people try to call me "Ruthie." That is not my name. People have tried to argue that it's a nickname. People have tried to argue that it's the same thing as "Ruth." It's not. In my eyes (and ears), it is a completely different name. Ruthie is the cute curly haired kid on 7th Heaven (Incidentally, there was an episode of that where her teacher insisted on calling her Ruth, and she kept insisting that her name wasn't Ruth, it was Ruthie. I see her point. The names are not the same). Again, I'm sorry if your name is "Ruthie" or if you have a beloved relative named "Ruthie" or if you just totally love the name "Ruthie," but it just sounds like the name you give to a little kid. I am not a little kid. I'm a grown woman. And my name is not "Ruthie." When someone calls me "Ruthie," it sounds like an insult because someone is calling me something that's not my name. Ruth is my identity. Ruthie is someone else's identity. I don't have a problem with this if someone calls me "Ruthie" without knowing I don't like it, but I always make a point of correcting this (and I do wonder why people assume it's okay). Even with people whom I only know "...eh, fairly well." I guess that, for some reason, "Ruth Ann" doesn't set my teeth on edge nearly as much as "Ruthie."

If you know I don't like it and call me "Ruthie" as a I joke, I'm not going to laugh. I've had to get mean with people in the past who have persisted in calling me "Ruthie" because they know I don't like it. In my opinion, that kind of behavior is really immature and rude. It's a big deal to me because, as I said, when someone calls me by a name that's not mine, it comes across as an insult. I don't add unnecessary -ie's to the end of other people's names. I don't see why some other people feel the need to do so with mine. That's all I'm saying. Moving on now...

As common as the name "Anna Ruth Campbell" is (I googled it, remember?), I must say that I really like my name, and it really seems to fit me. One thing you might discover about me is that I'm kind of obsessed with name meanings. Anna means "gracious." Ruth means "beautiful friend." Campbell means "one who has a crooked mouth." So, roughly, my name means "Gracious, beautiful friend with a crooked mouth." I'm very proud of my name. I try to be gracious (even with people who call me "Ruthie"...but sometimes enough is enough). I'm a fiercely loyal friend who strives to be compassionate towards others. The crooked mouth thing is something I'm actually pretty proud of. I love being a Campbell. It's a good Scottish name...and I've got a lot of Scottish blood in me. To me, the "crooked mouth" part of my name just serves to remind me that I'm not perfect. I have a huge problem with tact. I have a complete inability to not blurt out the first thing that comes into my mind. So I'm often brutally honest with people. This leads to all sorts of fun socially awkward moments...and sometimes some anger...

But people usually thank me later.

One more cool thing about my name is that there are four letters in my first name, four letters in my middle name, and eight letters (two sets of four, if you're mathematically challenged) in my last name. Four is my favorite number. Just sayin'.

So if I ever get married, I really don't think I'm going to drop any of my names. I'll just add my hubby's last name to the end of mine--no hyphens or anything. Just the name. I'll have four names (I like that number). Of course, this depends on the guy's last name. My sister once dated this guy with the last name Butts. Yeah... Sometimes it's better to keep your maiden name.

And, attention single guys: If your last name starts with an S or an H, I might be more likely to marry you. That way my initials will spell ARCS or ARCH and will still be a word. I like that my initials spell a word.

...and I think I've completely exhausted this topic, as well as revealed that I have thought WAY too much about my name.

Embarassing Confession #2: I am a Sucker

It's true. I'm a sucker. I am the sort of person who cannot walk by the Salvation Army bell ringers without either putting something in their little bucket, or feeling incredibly guilty for pretty much the rest of all eternity. It's not so much that I'm generous as much as it is that I'm stupid.

The other day a stranger came up to me and said, "Do you have a couple dollars I could use to get air in my tires? I'm completely broke and can't get my bike home." I was like, "Sure, here you go." Dude proceeded to walk away, pick up his bike, and ride away. I am a sucker.

And I've learned that non-suckers are born with an innate knowledge of how to work suckers. I've noticed that whenever they have people selling stuff outside of Wally World on the weekends, they always get the cutest, sweetest child with the widest eyes in the world to be the ones to ask for money. "Miss, could you please donate your hard-earned money to our stuffed puppy club?" I know that a stuffed puppy club is not a worthy cause, but when I look into those eyes, my hand reaches for my wallet against my volition.

Maybe you can relate...

You see, there is some hope for the suckers of this world. There are ways of avoid um, suckerage. Getting suckerized? Whatever you call it, here are some useful tips:

1. Recognize the signs. People who ask for money usually stand in doorways or other heavily trafficked areas where they can more conveniently suckerize suckers. They often hold jars or other containers used to hold their money. Often these jars are decorated with eye catching cutesy labels that are cleverly designed to make suckers feel guilty. Another clue is if you actually witness another poor sucker giving them money. If you see any of these signs, try to avoid the suckerizer if at all possible.

2. DO NOT make eye-contact. If you see someone who appears to be asking other people for money, ESPECIALLY if the money asker is a cute wide-eyed child, do not, I repeat DO NOT make eye-contact. Suckerizers know that if they make eye-contact with a sucker, they have already won the battle. Pick something like a cloud in the sky or a freckle on your arm to stare at so that you will not have to make eye-contact.

3. Walk in large groups of people. If you are the only one there, then wide-eyed suckerizing child WILL suckerize you. They will make it impossible for you ignore them with their precious wide-eyedness. They will pull you away from the cloud or freckle and by the sheer power of their awesome adorableness will FORCE you to make eye-contact with them. As you know from reading the previous tip, after you have made eye-contact, all hope is lost. You have been suckerized. If you walk in large groups of people, there is less chance that the suckerizer will focus their mad skills of suckerization on you. If there is no large group of people, just wait a few minutes. Large groups of people seem to be everywhere (as every socially awkward person can tell you), so if there isn't a large group of people readily available, one will probably be arriving shortly.

4. Pretend to talk on your cell phone. Okay, so this trick is EXTREMELY juvenille and practically ANY suckerizer can see through it in a heartbeat, BUT it seems to work in 99.9% of potentially dangerous situations. When walking by wide-eyed suckerizers, just lift your cell phone to your ear and pretend to carry on a conversation. For added protection, you might want to loudly tell the pretend person you're pretending to talk to that you are very broke and hate wide-eyed children who try to collect hard-earned money in cutely decorated jars.

5. Just don't carry cash. This doesn't exactly kill the guilt factor in me, but at least it keeps me from getting suckerized. If you don't have cash to give, you cannot give cash away. Debit cards are incredible inventions. Of course, this is only going to be useful until the time when the suckerizers wise up and start carrying portable debit card scanners. It's only a matter of time.

If you're a sucker, hopefully these helpful tips will be...helpful.