Thanks for the comments about the last entry. I'm over my hissy fit. It's all good now, and while it's likely I'll write about it later, there's something more pressing at hand. Namely, that I am currently in possession of a small child for the first time in 15 years.
Yep. I'm babysitting.
This is an admittedly bizarre experience for me. I mean, I was fine with it all when I was a kid, and that's not to say that I'm not fine with it now. But I sort of feel like this isn't the same thing that riding a bike is, you know? Kids are getting quicker and craftier with each generational upgrade. A perfect example? The child in question, Loreli, was just trying to escape out the window about an hour ago.Then again, when I was five I packed up my little red suitcase and tried to run away from home, so maybe we're not all that different after all.
My day with her started around 10, when she demanded we put on shoes and socks and go to the park. I was down with that, so sure, I slipped on her tootsie wear and off we went. I was already enthralled by taking her to the park when she shoved her feet in my hands so I could sock and shoe her, but the walk there was utterly fascinating. I once read that Johnny Depp had likened his children to drunken midgets, and that's not far off. Loreli was babbling incoherently and stumbling as she walked, but she's much more endearing than the average drunk. First of all, she's adorable. Secondly, she smells better - even with the diaper. Third, when she barks at passing dogs and stops to discuss things with the flowers, it's more innocent and magical instead of sad.
When we got to the park and she started climbing on the jungle gym, I was given a status report at every turn: this was hot, that was up, there's the slide... and then hello, there was a wayward ball from a nearby group of shirtless men playing soccer.
"Ball!" she crowed.
"Yes, balls," I said, watching the shirtless dudes. "Let's go get the ball and take it back to the nice men."
Lucky for me, Loreli was on board with this... for a moment. I had intentions of watching the game for a little while, while she decided it would be better to chase after the other kids on the other jungle gym. So naturally I chased after her, and then when they left shortly after, she wanted to leave too. Plan foiled. I let her walk me home until she demanded I carry her the last half a block.
Now, a word about diaper changing.
Horror.
I have never seen nor smelled anything as toxic as what greeted me when I undid this kid's diaper. It was a mess of such epic proportions that I kind of wanted to have my camera handy. Blessedly I was able to handle the explosion with a surprising amount of expertise, as I think the last time I changed a diaper was during the Regan administration. Regardless, we celebrated this achievement - her a-bomb and my ability to clean it without passing out - with many readings of My First ABCs. If Loreli isn't fluent in English by the time I leave, I will be shocked.
I was warned that nap time might be a challenge and a half, and for a second there, it was. I closed the door behind me and immediately the tears started. I stood in the hallway waiting for them to die down, but instead I heard the closet door opening... and figured that was a bad sign. So I walked in the room and said, "What are you doing?"
She looked at me like she'd been a prisoner of war for as long a she could remember and made an attempt to scramble up to my collar bone.
"I'll make you a deal," I said. "How about we lay down together and nap?"
I walked over to the bed and curled up on the end of it, and she followed suit. I peeked at her a couple times to warch her assemble her stuffed animals around her, petting her Ernie doll as she fought to keep her eyes open. Within minutes she was emitting little baby snores. I slipped out quietly. She's out cold.
I've got a few hours left before babysitter number two takes over, leaving me to help set up for Jamye's book event this evening. I didn't know what to expect from this experience. Earlier I'd told Shar that I was terrified and had no clue what to do with a kid, even though I knew some day - right around the time my eggs are almost expired - I'd want one. But if anything I think it's showing me that the work I've been doing on myself has paid off. I'm a bit more patient, I'm a bit more tolerant, I'm a bit more even keel and able to deal with things I would've lost my mind over even a year ago. So that's cool.
That said, I'm praying I don't get her pink eye. Let's hold a vigil for that thought, mkay?
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