How on earth did I get to this place anyway?

There is a concept called internal or external locust of control.  If you are a word collector, a more psychoanalytic way of saying this is alleplastic or autoplastic.  The both mean the same.  Do you feel a sense of control over your life and destiny (Internal locus of control or autoplastic) or do you feel as if life happens around you and are just a victim of your circumstances (external locus of control or alleplastic).

I think I have always felt that I pretty much get to decide what happens to me.  At least I did until I got diagnosed with MS.  Now I realize that the only thing I really and truly get to control is my response to given situations.  Of course, you can and absolutely should plan things.  Do what you can with what you have from where you're at every moment.  Then sit back and hope that all your ducks are in the right row and that the  best possible outcome will happen.  But also, expect that some of your ducks will wander into a different row and that something unexpected will change everything.  Hey!  It happens!

But this is supposed to be a blog about my journey up to now.  So make with the wavy Scooby doo backward-in-time-lines, and here we go again.

My first job in the "field"  was as a summer relief worker a Day Care Center.  The day Care was a part of the children's home run by my Dad.  He really struggled with having me work there (nepotism and all that), but I applied, and, Bob's your uncle, (Look it up, its a real expression), I was hired.  I got to be the  summer relief for the teachers and the cook while they were on their vacations.
 I started as an aid, then cooked for a month, and finally had my own classroom.  I think I was 20. The best things about that job were that I got to go to the pool everyday, so my hair was platinum blonde and I was so tan.  I have funny skin.  I am pretty white.  (Shockingly Caucasian.  I glow in the dark.)  But, I get a pretty good tan.  I guess I shoulda been born in California.  Here is me at my sister's wedding that summer.

Me and my sister,  She is the gorgeous one and I am the short one with the platinum hair and killer tan

  I also really liked being the cook, because I got first dibs on everything.  The real cook had planned the menu before hand and had super easy stuff for me to make.  We also got donations for afternoon snack.  It was usually stuff like peanut butter cracker or applesauce, but once we got boatloads of Twix Bars.  That was a little dangerous for me. I really like sweets!

The kids were the real best part of that job.  They were all cute.  I had a few favorites,  There were two sets of twins.  Both sets were boys.  One set were named T-Wani and D-Wani. We called them T and D and they were ALWAYS in some kind of trouble.  The little girls were no angels.  Once they were told not to put water in the sand tray, but the sand mysteriously got wetter and wetter.  The girls were taking big swigs of water in their mouths and spitting on the sand to get it wet.  EWW! But very resourceful!.  I have pages of pics of those kids.  they were all great kids.  I still remember their names even!  In hind site, I can see which kids were probably being neglected and which were potentially victims of abuse  It warmed my 20 year old heart when the kids asked to go home with me, but now I would see it as a pretty significant warning sign that maybe there was a reason they didn't want to go home.

It's funny to think of them now.  That was 32 years ago!  They are all grown up with kids of their own....  maybe even grand kids!
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Overall, I think the Day Care was a pretty tame intro into the world of direct service.  It gets a lot hairier when you see the big picture and become a little less naive about people's intentions
But that will have to wait til next time!

So til next time, farewell to social services until after graduation from UMKC.