I envision that someday, if and when I decide to have children, my child will invariably come up to me at some point and ask this question. Perhaps my children will be sitting in their history class, their holographic teacher relaying to them stories of Alexander Graham Bell, and all of sudden they will flip through a textbook and see a picture of rotary phone juxtaposed next to a landline. My children will be confused and perplexed about how a society functioned with such antiquated machinery. They will come home and ask their mother, aka me, about these antiques. I will regale them with tales of my childhood; negiotiating and coordinating phone time with the family, the amazing day when my dad decided to invest in TWO phonelines (it really was quite glorious) or when cordless phones were unleashed upon the world. I will tell my children about the first time I took the family cell phone to the mall; it weighed 12 pounds and awkwardly fit in my pocket - my father always tried to convince me to clip it to my belt, and there was no easy way to tell him, that was never going to happen My children will ask "well how didpeople get a-hold of you when you're not home?". I will chuckle at the ridiculousness of the question and smile at their ignorance. I will simply state that "well ... some people had a little device called a pager. where people could leave messages. However more often than not, people would go about their day, not imprisoned by the thought that they might miss a call, checked their messages once a day, and returned peoples' calls at their leisure.

Now there is a general assumption in America that everyone has a cell phone and therefore should be accessible 24/7.  Furthoremore there exists a belief that not only should you be accessible at all times but should you miss someone's phone call or do not return it in a timely manner people take it personal. I do have a feeling that the advances in technology we are seeing in phones is contributing to the downfall of future generations. Between advances in phones, the prominence of reality TV in our society, and foam playgrounds the children of these next generations are growing up believing (1) people and information should be readily accessbile (of course only if you possess the expensive technology to access it), (2) you can become famous and get paid money to do absolutely nothing for the entertainment of others (3) that foam and woodchips are natural and necessary building materials for all structures.

Yesterday, I headed out to the pre-school where my roommate and another good friend of mine work at. They had planned this spring music concert and wanted me to come and watch and support. I was totally down with doing that, however I got wasted the night before and had to get up early in the morning to go this shindig. So I tried my best to not smell like a distillery, threw on my big gaudy sunglasses, and hit the road for an epic concert.

With my cousins all in the teenager/pre-teen box, it has been a while since I have been around small children …. let alone an army of small children. The first thing I noticed when we pulled up to the private pre-k school – which shall remain nameless for the sake of my roommate's job – was the playground. The lawn was not real grass but instead some awkward AstroTurf and all of the playground equipment had these beige tones and made out of what appeared to be  some rubber byproduct – thus ensuring that no matter how hard you hit your head on the equipment it would just bounce right back. I instantly went down memory lane to my playground which, let me tell you, was a zoo of concrete and metal – there was no such thing as padding or wood chips in my day.

Then I walk into the classroom, which has about fifteen kids, and I wanted to die. They were everywhere, demanding things, wanting attention and affirmation, tattle-telling on one another, all the while bouncing off the ceilings. My friends & the kids had been working hard for the past couple of weeks to put on this “spring concert” which was going to incorporate some singing, some dancing, and even a little improv. The kids packed the house with friends and family – damn they put a lot of entertainers I know to shame with the amount of people that came out to watch them. Who knew that a preschool spring music concert would be so entertaining and dramatic all at the same time?

So start off the concert, the kids decided to sing/dance along to 98 Degrees rendition of “True to Your Heart” from the awe-inspiring Disney film Mulan. Then did the Bunny Song, Peanut Song, and other objects that they decided to writing a catchy jingle too. The kids also did some improv which I thought was pretty impressive. Taking a quick glance around the room I was able to divide the classroom into 4 different types of performers:

1. The apathetic kid – the child that does not have a performers' bone in their body and generally stood or sat there the entire concert looking awkward and uncomfortable. If they did any of the dance moves they were half-assed and lifeless, their projection was non-existent, and their stage presence was beyond absent. Though they may be 4 or 5 years old, that is no excuse, shall we just examine the Olsen twins.

2. The over-enthusiastic kids – the kids that think they are Justin Bieber and therefore want to do, sing, dance everything. At first you are excited by their involvement and hope that it serves as a model for other children. After about 5 minutes you are over it and hope they join the apathetic kid group. They are the children who have their hands raised first and after each of the numbers asks such questions as “wasn't I the loudest, couldn't you hear me the best”. Because they are so desperately vying for attention they tend to take up the most space with their body and voice. So many of the kids wanted to hold this damn poster with a painted picture of a sun on it, you thought it was the greatest gift you could ever give them. Unfortunately most of these children will grow up to be the people that “try too hard” or the people that hog things – time, attention, spotlight, compliments, toys, etc.

3. The Pumpkins - in general these are the best children to watch. Adorable without trying too hard. There was one kid in particular who wore this beautiful princess dress for the concert. So jealous – if only I was able to accessorize like that or have fabulous costumes from such an early age.

4. The Prima Donnas – and of course, last but certainly not least, everybody's favorites, the Divas. These were the children during the concert that tried to selfishly outshine everybody and when they are unsuccessful go and cry in the corner trying to draw attention to themselves. Well honey baby child, “ba whoooooooo A wooooooo” cry me a river darling. There is a show currently going on, and you should be onstage, and not offstage crying in the corner, especially when you have nothing to cry about. It was a little bit awkward and uncomfortable to watch – not that deterred me from soaking it all in mind you ;)

The parents ate it up, which they usually do in these sentimental, Hallmark-Lifetime-TV-Moments. People were tearing up, cameras were flashing, and a half an other later I still had my big sunglasses on, still was a little drunk, and now a little misty-eyed. I do not envy my friends in their job. Working with other peoples' children all day – especially ones that are bratty and spoiled, the joys of a private preschool – unable to discipline them at all, is really rough. At the end of the concert my friends were sweating and I thought that they might pass out right there on the carpet with the silly fish swimming around it. It is instances like this where I go back and forth on the whole having kids thing. Part of me would like to have a child and just raise the most kick ass kid in the world. The kid who is confident, but not arrogant, smart but not a know it all, and who exudes fabulousness from their very pores. Then I start wondering about life with a kid: PTA meetings, bake sales, soccer matches, sleep overs, school, dentist appointments, SATs, etc. It is at this point that I get very scared. I can't even take care of our house plant which I am looking at while I am typing – at the moment leaves are turning yellow and falling off. How would I ever be able to look after an infant that wants things constantly? Or what happens if my kid doesn't think I'm cool? How would I pick up the pieces of my life after that crushing blow?I guess I will just have to cross the child bridge when I get there.