Recently I find myself without a filter.
Like seriously #nofilter
I think there’s something wrong with me. I cannot blooming stop the oversharing.
I seem to have lost my boundaries.
Maybe I need a lovely new shiny electric fence around my mouth that zaps me when I’m talking too much.
After my sons basketball game last night my friend told me to follow her and not talk to anyone.
I say the most inappropriate things at the silliest times.
Which is why it’s probably good that I’m a preschool teacher and my class is comprised of children from diverse backgrounds and most of them don’t speak English.
Their parents can’t speak English either and one mother hugged me and told me that she loves me the other day.
Not sure if it got lost in translation but it made my day.
I had a girl come up to me today and looked up my dress to check that I was wearing knickers.
I was. I am.
I am used to children patting me on the breast to get my attention and ask me how many babies are in my tummy after I’ve had a big lunch.
They talk about my hair and my hairy legs.
I wore a striped dress last week and one boy said I looked like a thief.
Today we somehow started talking about death and how dead people live in cemeteries and can’t come alive from there and one girl put up her hand and started talking about cake.
This is my professional life. This is what I studied at university to do.
Now I’m not sure if these strange little people are influencing me or if being around small children so often has left me handicapped when it comes to speaking to adults in the real world.
I often wish that I had the stamina and patience to be a selective mute.
Alas I do not.
My own children beg me not to talk to strangers.
Maybe it’s because I had my thyroid removed?
But seriously sometimes I hate it. I hate that I say dumb things to fill silences and then lie awake ruing my words in the evening.
I know that I must be grateful that I have a voice at all but I do sometimes thing I’d like to share a drink bottle with someone who has laryngitis.