Picture a circle representing naturally-born “kid-people”. Picture another circle representing mothers. Let’s be more specific and label it mothers of, say, four children (but feel free to insert your number of choice). In a Venn diagram depicting the two, I would fall in the outer edge of the mothers of four children, the place where the two circles do not intersect. I adore my own children, my nieces and nephews, and my friends’ kids, and would run out into traffic to rescue a vagabond toddler in a heartbeat, but please, please don’t ask me to be a fieldtrip mom. The very thought of a busload of excitable 7-year-olds makes my jaw involuntarily clench. I just physically relaxed it. And this is why I have a special place of reverence in my heart for my kids’ teachers, choir directors, and the church children’s pastors. Julianna, Colin and Justin were all involved in the kids’ musical last weekend – and I had a coveted second row seat. It was an incredible production, full of singing, drama, dancing and black light numbers. The kids in the choir even did choreography using sticks, spoons and pompoms…which, when used by a sweet little 6-year old girl, is the quintessential picture of beauty and joy. When wielded by my 6-year old son, the pompom immediately transforms into a wig, and becomes a great source of amusement to him and all the other little boys in the vicinity. He forgets completely that he’s on stage, in front of 1000 people, and that he actually isn’t the center of attention at this particular moment. Utterly taken by his own hilarity, he plants a kiss on his 7-year old brother’s shoulder (who is standing beside him…umm, maybe that works with sisters…with my two it’s a recipe for a delicious disaster), who takes cardinal offense, winds up, and punches him squarely on the back. And thus ensues a 60-second (but seemingly 10 minute) round of stomps, hits, flicks, and dirty looks, while, in my coveted second row seat, I am muted and helpless, praying desperately that neither actually takes the other physically down in a pompom flurry. Who thought of the pompoms, anyway? Most likely a kid-person.