I nanny part-time for a friend of mine who is a single mom. A couple of times a week I watch her feisty, two-year-old daughter for her all day while she is at work. And on the occasional Saturday (or school holiday) I also watch her 5-year-old son. To say that it is a little overwhelming some days is an understatement.
Take today for example. My 8 month old is teething, and thus was up off and on all night long. My son fell out of bed at one point in the night so I had to go get him settled back in. I woke up to a sobbing baby at 6 AM who decided she didn’t want to go back to sleep so I bumbled through my morning routine with a baby precariously perched on my hip. By the time the two extras showed up on my doorstep my eyes were burning, my head was pounding, and coffee just wasn’t strong enough.
Then of course everyone is on hyper over drive (not like that’s unusual), so they are literally running circles around me in the kitchen. I tried some quiet craft time….disaster. I tried sending them to my son’s room to play…nope. I even tried a movie….*sigh*….It’s just one of those days I guess. One of those days where nothing goes right and everything goes wrong and I swear they are trying their absolute best to drive me up the wall bonkers.
1) Saying “Mom” for no apparent reason. “Mom, mom, mom, mom, Mommy, mom, mama, moooooooooommmmmmmmy!” “Yes?” *Looks away apparently lost in thought*
2) The repetition. “Did you see that? Did you see that? Did you see that? Did you see that?” Yep, saw it all four times and gave an affirmation, all, four, times.
3) Forever contradicted. “Mom! Did you see that semi?” “Yeah, it was a nice semi.” “No! That wasn’t a semi, it was a semi truck.” *Insert eye roll here*
4) No inside voice. That moment when you just get the teething baby to sleep and lay her gently in the crib, tiptoeing like a ninja out of the room, sliding the door closed (success!), only to find your child waiting with a “MOM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING MOM?” Aaaaaaaaaand cue the crying.
5) The questions never end.”What are you doing mom?” “Why?” “What are you making?” “Why?” “What are you eating?” “Why?” “Where are you going?” “Why?” “Why?” “WHY?” “WHY?” (These are all said by my two year old by the way.)
6) No private potty trips. Little fingers, reaching underneath the bottom of the door. A nasal voice oozing through the cracks in the door jamb. The door knob rattling like a homicidal maniac is trying to bust in; why? Because nothing it sacred anymore. Which brings me to my next point….
7) Public restrooms. “I’m going potty. I’m peeeeeeeeeeing. I’ve got more potty. Mom, I’m going poop. *Insert insanely loud grunting noises here* NO! Don’t wipe me! *Insert two year old melt down on the toilet* Ooooooo! Look at my poop! It’s HUGE! It looks like a papa poopy! And look! There’s the mama poopy! It’s you mom, it’s you!”
- 7(a) Public restrooms revisited. “Mom….Are you going poop Mom?” “Shhhhh” “Why?” “Just shush.” “Why? Ew. Your poop smells. Do you have more poop mom? Did you get all the poopies out? You’ve been pooping a long time mom. Are you done yet? Don’t forget to wipe mom. Whoa, your poop looks like a dinosaur poop!”
- 7(b) Public restrooms again. “No! Don’t touch that! *Insert child’s name here* don’t touch that bin! That’s gross! No, get up off the floor! *child’s name again* don’t peek underneath the stalls!” (“Ooooooh! Mom look! That lady is pooping!”) “Get up here! No! Don’t touch the toilet seat! Oh for the love of…..!” *Face palm*
8) Nap time. Because if they’re not boycotting their own nap time they’re probably boycotting yours.
9) Self mutilation. “Hey, please be careful you don’t want to bump your head on that.” *Exactly 10 seconds later* “Mama! I got an owie! I hit my head on that!” *Insert eye roll here*
10) I did this to myself. And I think the worst part of all, is that I completely, 100%, inflicted this madness on myself. The thing that keeps me up at night is that I did this. Willingly, I might add. And even after all the crazy that the day brings, the eye rolling (on my part), the sighing (again on my part), and the yelling (mostly on my part), I look at their sweet angelic faces, all traces of the little monster that posses them by day gone, and I think to myself “Hmmmm, I could have an other one.”
Someone shoot me now.