Cole

This week, at work, I taught a classroom full of three and four-yea-olds. There was a little boy in my class, named Cole. He's four, and he is the sweetest little boy you'll ever meet. He loves to chat about the most random topics, but this week, something happened that got me thinking. Cole came over and told me that another boy in our class wouldn't share a toy with him. I knew that this other little boy had just gotten the toy, so I told Cole to go over there and talk to him about it. One of our key phrases we try to teach the kids at our preschool is to "use your words". Well, Cole walks over to this other little boy, and says "Ms. Whitney said that we have to share, so give it to me", and he took the toy right out of the other boy's hand. He turned to look at me, and I, of course, made him give the toy back.

This got me thinking.

(It's funny how the everyday adventures of a four-year-old can make you have mini-revelations about yourself)

I don't really remember when it all started. It's most vivid in high school, when I was living with my dad and his girlfriend Kathleen. Kathleen was a "note-writer". If she wanted to get something off her chest, pass along information, or just generally let something be known, she would write a note and leave it in a specific spot on our kitchen island. If we wanted to say something to her in response to her notes, we were to write a note, and leave it on her laptop at the other end of the kitchen. She worked odd hours, and this was the easiest way to converse. What I didn't know at the time, and what I didn't realize until just in the past 2 years or so, was that it's because of this that I don't know how to use my words.

During those all-important teenage years, where one is supposed to be taught to have adult conversations, piece together thoughts and voice them, I was being shown to write notes.I like to think of myself as a decent blogger. I enjoy writing, and even though I'm sure that no ones truly cares about my writings the way I do, I enjoy doing it, and I feel like I can express anything with a keyboard. (Hence the title of my blog)But if someone comes up to me and wants to talk something out, something serious, something more than just idle chit chat, I get nervous. I lose my words. I literally just can't say anything at all. My mind will race with answers to their questions, solutions for their problems, or sassy comments for their stories, but my mouth just won't work.

A few weeks ago, I was at the park with a group of friends, and one of them asked to talk to me privately. He and another friend pulled me aside to tell me that they think I've been leaving people out of our group events, purposely not inviting people that I don't like. This is a false statement. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that I froze. They were sitting there telling me these things, and my speech capability just dissipated. I let them finish what they had to say, one of them said "are we good?", and I answered with a nod and walked away. OF COURSE we weren't good, but what was I going to do? Stand there stammering like an idiot? Heck no! So I walked away angry with myself. I didn't use my words, and it was unbelievably frustrating for me.

This has been happening more and more in my life in recent years, and it's something I've been working on.I'm not sure how to make it better. I have plenty to say, obviously my blog are mini-novels, but I lack the emotional strength to actually say the things that need to be said.

There really wasn't a point for this blog. It was just to let you, as the reader, into my world a little bit more.

Grace be with you.