Thursday, November 19, 2009

"missmollymissmollymissmolly" is not actually a word

Originally uploaded by mollshot

Lately, I've been feeling just the slightest bit overwhelmed at work. A constantly running litany of children calling out my name and, along with it, their current issue at hand.

MissMolly, MissMolly, I've got a hang nail. MissMolly, my tooth hurts. MissMolly, MissMolly, can you check off my contract? MissMolly, do you like what I drew? MissMolly, MissMolly, look at this thing on my finger, its bothering me. MissMolly, MissMolly, know what I watched last night? MissMolly, can you please read this to me? MissMolly, MissMolly, MISSMOLLY, my stomach hurts. MissMolly, can I go to the bathroom, it's an emergency?! MissMolly, wanna see my new shirt? MissMolly, MissMolly, I can't find my sweatshirt, lunch, homework, contract, money, snack, tooth, toy, book, bookmark, share, shoes, lunch, gomo, boat, plane, thing that I made. MissMolly, MissMolly, I'm finished. MissMolly, I'm done. MissMolly, I'm hot. MissMolly, I'm cold. MissMolly, MissMolly, I called you first, I'm finshed! MissMolly, I've been waiting this whole time. MissMolly, can you check me off? MissMolly, MissMolly, can I free draw? MissMolly, MissMolly, MissMolly, I bit my cheek! MissMolly, he stepped on my foot! MissMolly, she pushed me! MISSMOLLY, She won't be my friend! He's not being nice! MissMolly, MissMolly, I miss my mom!

Oh my, it's exhausting. Talking about it with friends the other night, I actually cried with exhaustion. I don't know what it is this year, why it seems so much more work. I dream of past jobs and the ease and comfort with which I've infused them: bookstore manager, professional organizer, owning a shop, barista, telemarketer...then I realize I've gone too far. What I'd really love to do, I'm not sure. Maybe I haven't hit upon it yet (after all these years of can that be?!)? Maybe I'm idealizing the past (most likely)? Maybe I just wasn't meant to have a "career"? Maybe what I'm really supposed to be doing is yet to come....?

Plauged by the thoughts of 'what next?', 'what next?', 'what next?': I'm sitting on the rug at the end of the day, finishing a story just before dismissal, and I feel this little breath on the back of my neck. I've finished the story now and the kids are getting up to leave one by one, when I hear this little voice say, "MissMolly, I love you." I turn and see little L. smiling at me. He throws his tiny little arms around me and I tell him I love him, too.

I guess that's why I stay.


billy girl said...

The shivers, all over, Mol. Really. And you give them, the kiddies so much. And maybe now, you move on? All I know, is that you are here to inspire, to create, to laugh and to love. It's what you do best. Sadly, there aren't many paychecks that go along with all of the above. But I do know this: your heart, your spirit, your voice, your humor, your ART, and your myriad talents are simply beyond measurable by pay. Sorry for lack of advice, but I do know this: my "Clare" bracelet, along with my special framed "K," and the stationary that won't let me write on and send it, all tell me that you are an artist. Go, Mol. xoxox

Ivanhoe Books - Art And Design said...

MissMolly I think you're great!

Anonymous said...

missmollymissmollymissmolly, bygolly...why do you think we call you "Molly the Grand Finale"?...because you are grand and billy girl said it best.....Love ya Mol.....Mom

paige said...

Is teaching three days a week an option? My teacher friend did that after she had her first kiddo.

Three days of Miss Molly and two days of just Molly... Art Molly. Molly getting to do whatever Molly wants to do. Which hopefully means more amazing Molly art.

That way you still get to have the tear jerking "i love you" moments... but you get to breathe a little more too.

Just a thought.