Appropriate for all ages

My friend led a workshop last weekend with 8th graders.  They were talking about their time and talents; how to be good people and good members of the church.  At the end she asked them if they had any questions.  There was one.


“What kind of silly bands are you wearing?”


It was one I had sent her.

In my silly band spirit, I brought silly bands to youth last Wednesday.  They were gone in like point five seconds.


One girl RAN all the way from her house because she knew I was bringing them.  Granted, she  just lives down the street, but I don’t think anyone has been that excited to see me since New Years.


Silly bands are equally loved by both genders.  At our Christmas party, one of the boys ended up with a mystical pack and wouldn’t share.  


With anyone.


Even my twenty something guy friends wear these bands of silly.  

Unless, according to them, they’re too swoll.

My preschool alterego

I mixed it up last week and babysat.  I’ve worked with four and five year olds in the summers before, but it’s definitely a switch from the teeny boppers I’m become used to this fall.  When I got there to the house the first thing his mom said was, “What were you going to call Hannah?”

“Hannah Montana or Hannah Banana. Whichever one I think is funnier.” (giggle, giggle)

Curse you Disney channel.

Luckily, I don’t actually mind.  Getting to act like a kid even though I’m an adult?  I’d say I have the best of both worlds.  

Take that Miley Cyrus.

20 questions: retreat style

48 hours. 35 eighth graders. 20 questions, minimum.

1. Can we go back and shower?
2. Can we go exploring?
3. What are we doing next?
4. Where did you go to high school?
5. Can I keep this?
6. How did Noah live to be 600?
7. What are we doing next?
8. Do you like Justin Bieber?
9. Can we eat at Bojangles?
10. Why are you wearing that?
11. When do we have to go to bed?
12. Can we sit in the back?
13. What are we doing next?
14. Are you married?
15. Where are you sitting?
16. Why are we doing this?
17. Can we go to the gym?
18. What are we doing next?
19. You don’t get paid for this?


20. Can I have a soda?


Only if I can have a beer.

I beliebe.

I cussed in front of a kid.  

Because we couldn’t listen to Justin Bieber.  

One of the other adults fell 10 feet, broke both of his ankles, back and legs, but didn’t swear once because there were kids around.

I swore because I couldn’t listen to never say never.

I am a 13 year old trapped in a adult’s body.

What's my age again?

Kids have no concept of age.  Some days they think I'm fifteen, other times I'm in my thirties.  One sixth grade girl whispered to me "She thought you were 80!" but I highly doubt the accuracy of this statement.  I feel like I have this conversation with a different kid each week:

Child, in a shrill excited manner: "You're not in high school!?!?!"

Me: "No."
Child: "Where do you go to college?"
Me: "I graduated."
Child: "How old ARE you?"

I'm making myself a shirt that says 'i am an ADULT.' 

they probably still won't believe me.

Twenty two going on 13.

“I’m 12 and I think you’re lame.”  Although I’m the youngest adult advisor at the middle school youth group, when the kids find out I’ve graduated from college, my cool factor decreases immensely.  Granted, this statement came from a 6^th grader who consistently saves me a seat at dinner, but it doesn’t change the fact that I wear totally out of style clothes and can't remember what it means to "go out" with someone.  I’m living in the middle of the state, in the middle of my first year as an “independent” adult, between undergrad and graduate school discovering that although a lot has happened in the last ten years, in many ways I’m still like a middle school student: figuring out who I want  to be today, what’s cool and who to listen to.  So on Wednesday nights I listen to them.  Their antics, dreams, and opinions remind me that life is fun, but we are all stuck in the middle.