Motherhood: The Beta Version
I have about half an hour left in me tonight before I need to put teabags or cucumbers or whatever it is you put on burning eyeballs and I want to save that half an hour for an episode of It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia. Because mindless TV sounds soooo good right now.
You people? With the kids and the jobs? Both at the same time? HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?
Burdy and I agreed, while their parents are out of town, to watch Giggles and Little Man for the next four days.
I know, I know. You’re probably thinking: but what about the whole worm thing? Aren’t you afraid you’ll give them your parasites? Well, I’ve sworn off serving poop sandwiches for dinner, so I think we’re all safe.
So, seriously now. I feel like I have whiplash. IN MY BRAIN. Yesterday I was just a single person, living my single person life, doing my single person work… and today… today I was inside a tumbleweed of schedules and snacks and pleads for toys from the toy store and dinner and homework and car seats and late night work hours and coordinating, coordinating, coordinating.
Yesterday I had visions of taking a bath. TAKING A BATH! And going to the gym. At NINE o’clock at night. BECAUSE I COULD. And today? Today I was calling Burdy to make sure he knew that it was half an hour till tooth brushing time and did he start story time yet?
Okay. I’m done with the whiny part. I mean, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to do this. I love those kids to death. And they love Mr. Burdy and me. I guess I just hadn’t really done the math on what it would mean to go from single… to the legal guardian of a nine year old and a four year old overnight. All my gritty, urban styling is going to have to take a back seat for a few days while I pack coloring books in my messenger bag and bend over in my skinny jeans to wipe noses and tie tiny shoelaces.
I guess I’m not entirely unprepared for this. I am the aunty with all the cool stuff in her house. I’ve got a collection of manual typewriters that still work (always a hit with kids. “Where’ the ‘print’ button?” they always want to know) and stickers and wacky stationary I pick up at estate sales. So, what I may lack in experience, I more than make up for with my obsolete technology and sparkly pipe cleaners. My elementary school art teacher persona kicked in to high gear this afternoon during our urban nature walk. We collected a bunch of goodies from the ground and made sculptures with pipe cleaners and hot glue when we got home.
Little Man insisted on calling the chestnuts “prickly balls”. And I insisted that I would tell him when he was much, much older why I thought that was funny.