I recently decided to pick up an extra job working at a local center for children. I don’t want to name it, so we’ll just call it the Children’s Center, or the Center, for short.

Long ago, when I worked at Walmart, I used to say that everyone needs to work in retail to understand why customers are the worst human beings that ever existed. Then, when I began working at a nursing home, I used to say everyone should have to work as a CNA because then nursing homes might actually get the resources they so desperately need.

True to form, I want to say now that everyone, everyone needs to work at some type of Children’s Center. This is especially true for anyone wanting to have kids. I’m a mom, and the decision to work with children has only solidified my resolve to have only one child and stop the madness before it gets worse.

Day One working at the Center:

The kids are so loud. LOUD. Okay, that’s not totally unexpected. They hit each other constantly and why do boys find the need to scream at the top of their lungs? Are they enjoying their super-high voices while they have them? Girls do not do this. Instead, girls whisper secrets and make each other cry.

The Center is a large building with many rooms, all themed differently to provide the children opportunities to have a variety of fun before they go home. It doesn’t work like that anymore now that COVID has hit the world. Now the children are quarantined to one room and there they must stay. Packed into a single space like animals. Every now and again they get let out into the yard.

My first day on the job had me working in the Sports Room. This room is basically a gymnasium with sports equipment, a large television, and an Xbox. We played dodgeball, tag, and soccer. It was fun and exhausting. I loved it.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. One of the other staff members told me that it was important to devise a set of rules and remind the children of these rules to help them behave.

My list of rules began like this:

1.Everyone gets along.

2.No one gets hurt.

Pretty simple. Short and sweet.

Day Two:

We played outside for SIX HOURS. I kept asking if they wanted to go inside. They all said no. I had no watch and no phone. I had no idea how long six hours could feel when stuck outside with children and no way of knowing if it’d been five minutes or sixty.

There were objects flying everywhere. I just knew someone was going to take a ball to the face. I did not want it to be me, so I added to my list of rules.

3. Do not hit me in the face.

Day Three:

I got hit in the face with a kickball. By a staff member. I realized, it was a waste of energy to enforce rules that would be broken whether I wanted them to or not. So, realizing that the children will pretty much break all rules and staff members don’t get paid enough to care too much, I altered rule 3.

3. Do not get me in trouble.

I don’t care what they do as long as they follow those three rules.

Day Four:

I got assigned to a new room. This one is called the Computer Lab for obvious reasons. I thought it’d be easy. A room full of computers, a projector, and a PS4 would keep the pre-teens content for the six hours that I worked.

That was the worst day on the job so far.

The kids came in running, screaming, and fighting. Pushing, hitting, kicking, punching, biting, scratching. None of them were interested in staring mindlessly and silently at screens. I tried to get them doing crafts with me. They decided to take all the glue sticks and shove toothpicks into them to turn them all into shanks. There were children running on top of tables, diving into the terrified masses with these Elmer’s shanks, trying to claim as many victims as possible before I could snatch the weapons away.

While I was occupied with that, a few boys had the great idea to take all the scissors and feed them through broom handles to create scythes. These boys became Grim Reapers and were swinging their scythes around, hoping for murder.

Unable to turn my back on anyone at this point, I managed to remove the scissors and keep them in my pocket. The broom handles had to stay, because if I took my hand out of my pocket and off the scissors some 10-year old paw would be right in there to remove them from me.

I realized then that the rules I’d devised were worthless and life was meaningless and I’d slipped into some random dark dimension where time moves three times slower than normal and the smaller your body mass was the more terrifying you were.

At this point, the ladies who work the front desk were opening my room door every ten minutes to yell at the children. This did nothing to get them in line, it only riled them further.

Some of the children found popsicle sticks and were using them to break into the locked closet door. Once the door was open, the closet full of files and expensive computer equipment became a free-for-all Thunder Dome. I literally had to remove popsicle sticks from these kids because they couldn’t be trusted WITH POPSICLE STICKS.

As if my day wasn’t bad enough: Enter Janitor.

This lady is about six feet tall and fills a room. She swung my door open and began raging at my room full of animals to PUT THE BROOMS AWAY! GET OFF THE TABLES! PUT YOUR SHOES ON! STOP YELLING!

I honestly know she was trying to help, but Janitor is universally hated at the Center. Her presence was actually the thing that helped unite the children to me. As soon as she shut the door and walked away, the children all began whispering to me how much they hated her. All I had to do was listen and not correct them and they instantly believed I was on their side.

Turns out, I kinda joined their side because after all my kids finally went home and I was left to clean up, I was scolded by Janitor for not sweeping my room good enough. This woman actually pulled me away from the time clock, walked me back to my empty room where another janitor was cleaning, and pointed out the small pile of dirt they had swept after I was supposed to do it.

I went home that day and found a crumpled up muffin someone had stuck in my pocket.

Day Five:

Shell-shocked, I entered work to find I had the pre-school aged kids. I thought, this will be a lovely break. Snuggly kids who want attention, still like baby-talk and pleasing their elders, and are easily distracted.

I walked into the room and instantly wondered, “Why is everyone crying?” “What does that mess belong to?” “Is that… is that an APPLE? How did it get there and, just, WHY?”

We played hide and seek. I refused to play because I had just learned yesterday that I should never turn my back on children. I was correct in this because all the children ran into the art closet and proceeded to dump everything on the floor so they could hide inside of boxes. It was well-rehearsed and definitely not the first time they’d done this.

After lots of yelling, threatening with time-outs, and turning down deals made by five-year-olds, I managed to get the kids to clean up the closet and sit down for my all-time favorite game: Movie Theater.

Tip for anyone thinking about having multiple kids, this game is perfect for littles who won’t calm down.

It works every time. Chairs were lined up in neat rows, snacks were passed around, the lights were dimmed, a movie was selected and I achieved ONE HOUR of quiet time.

Thank you for the applause.

I’ve worked at the Center for three weeks so far and have plenty more stories to share at another time. But, seriously, if you want to bring a herd of children into this world, try working with them first. They’re loud, messy, and primitive. But they are also creative, have a strength of character most adults lack, and can find amazing moments to unify and work together towards a common goal. I have come to love these kids and appreciate their individuality.

If you’ve never worked with children, I highly recommend it. Volunteer, babysit, anything that gets you exposure to these weirdly awesome little human beings. I’m so fortunate to have this summer job and know that I will miss it dearly when I have to walk away.