How Did I Get Here Again?

So I somehow ended up serving as children's church coordinator (grades K-5) at my church - and wow, do I stink at it.

I admire the heck out of teachers - they're just so dang creative. They come up with amazingly fun and interesting ways to teach kids stuff. I'm woefully lacking in this department - ask the poor princesses, who have looked at me with pity after more than one of my attempts to do some kind of craft project with them. It's always a disaster - I can't even cut a straight line with a pair of scissors, for goodness sakes!

Anyway, here I am trying to come up with fun and creative stuff for children's church. (I think they just needed a warm body, saw the "can't say no" sticker on my forehead, and thought, "Sucker!" They were right.) Thing is - I'm really bad at it. Thank goodness I have a lesson book to give me ideas, but I really don't have a clue what the average kid likes/dislikes/finds interesting/thinks is stupid. (I'm having panic attacks about Princess E starting kindergarten in the fall, BTW, for this very reason.)

Here's the deal - I grew up very isolated in the backwoods of Arkansas (cue the "Deliverance" music here). I didn't have playmates - heck, we didn't even have kindergarten. We went straight to first grade, where it was immediately apparent that while I did seem pretty advanced in the book-learnin' department, I had the social skills of a kumquat. Still kinda do - although I have managed to learn to fake it pretty well over the years.

Anyway, here I am, theoretically organizing our children's church (thank you, God, for our great youth minister who I just try to hide behind most of the time - but he was on vacation this week, so I couldn't - ugh), when I don't have a dang clue what I'm doing. And the kids look at me like I'm really strange. And sometimes boring. And not very funny.

I'm guessing I'm going to start getting those same looks from Princess E very, very soon. Oy vey. In the meantime, I've gotta find someone to replace me in this children's church thing, before I end up turning some very normal children into kumquats.