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Jul. 23rd, 2001 12:12 amI am the kind of tired only a solid thirty six hours with a rambunctious four year old can bring you. May, in fact, keel over onto the keyboard, so if this entry ends with gibberish, that may be why.
Picked up little Emma at my brother's baseball game, where my aunt Maureen was waiting to make the handoff after taking the morning shift. I had her from about three yesterday afternoon till seven this evening. Am considering getting tubes tied as I type. Well, not really. Actually, at the moment I'm trying to come up with excuses for not baby-sitting for the next couple of weeks should I be called upon. I'll have to pretend that I have a raging social life. Ha.
The thing is, I love kids. Really. And, of course, I love Emma -- she's sweet, and bright, and downright adorable. The type of kid who will, out of nowhere, look up from her scrambled eggs and say, "Hey Jessie? I love you," with complete sincerity. A very special kid, and I love her. But also extremely high maintenance. Meaning, every single activity had to be done together. Everything. From picking out a game, to getting the pieces of the game together, to playing the game, to picking up afterwards. Books are read together. Movies are watched together. Dolls are played with together. You get the idea. For a few hours, it's fun -- kids' toys (and especially kids' enthusiasm for them) are usually pretty cool. But after a while, it gets old. I found myself desperately stealing seconds to read Vogue (I've never read Vogue in my life!) because it was on some kind of adult level.
Not to mention the fact that it wears you out. So, by eight last night, I'm rarin' for the kid to go to bed. We go upstairs, into the room, and BOOM! The waterworks hit. And it does break your heart, seeing this little face scrunched up with tears rolling down her cheeks as she look at you like you've got the magic answer or, perhaps, their mommy and daddy squirrelled away somewhere, and will produce them should she become distraught enough. Finally, she gets to sleep, after so many verses of Old MacDonald that I ran out of animals the sounds of which I knew (anyone know what noise a crocodile makes?) and started making stuff up. Slipped downstairs, did the Child Is Sleeping Dance of Joy, and had three blissful hours of spacing out.
Then. 11:30. The little voice calling -- no, screeching -- my name. Up I go.
Timestamp: 11:30 Location: Emma's bedroom
Emma: (sob) I just miss them so much! (hiccup) I wuv them so much! (sob) I want to give them a hug! I don't like this bed, Mommy always lets me sleep in her bed.
Jess: (extremely sympathetic) Oh, I know, sweetie. And they love you too, they just had to go away on business. They're going to be home tomorrow night and I heard they're bringing you a special surprise. And remember how Mommy said that you had to be a big girl and sleep in your own bed tonight? You have a lovely room. Now lie down for a minute and I'll sing you a song.
Timestamp: 11:45 Location: Emma's bedroom
Emma: (hiccup) I just miss them so much! I wuv them so much! I want to give them a hug! (hiccup) They're never coming back! I don't like my room.
Jess: (still mostly sympathetic) Mommy and Daddy always come back. And of course you like your room, it's your room. It's beautiful. Now, lie down.
Timestamp: 12:00AM Location: Emma's bedroom
Emma: (faking any distress at this point, skirting dangerously near wide awake) I just miss them so much! I wuv them so much! I want to give them a hug! They're never coming back! I want to sleep in your bed.
Jess: Now what did I say about talking? Close your eyes. No talking. And you have to sleep in you own bed, we talked about this.
Timestamp: 12:15AM Location: The Guest Bedroom
Emma: (mostly triumphant, trying to sound a little sniffly) Goodnight, Jessie.
Jess: (defeated, trying not to sound bitter) Goodnight, Emma.
Emma: I love you.
Jess: (choked by guilt for negative thoughts for several moments) Love you too. Now sleep.
Was awoken at 6AM by Emma after a night of fitful sleeping, the cause of which was primarily the fact that Emma seems to like sleeping at a forty-five degree angle across the bed with her feet in the back of whomever is sharing the bed with her. Therefore, should there be any kicking fits, her companion has a distinctly rude awakening. No matter how many times I straightened her out, she ended up with her feet on my back again.
Somehow made it through the whole day, though I'm not sure how. I didn't get to sleep until well after one, and considering my 6AM wakeup call and the frequent interruptions, I felt like I hadn't slept at all. Had to subdue BitterlyTired!Jess and be FunPeppy!Jess as much as possible. Was, at many points, a losing battle. But Emma did seem to have fun.
Anyway, I survived. Am extremely exhausted and am going to end this entry here because the falling asleep at the keyboard thing I mentioned before may become a reality if I don't. Am too lazy to spell check, please forgive any and all errors.
Picked up little Emma at my brother's baseball game, where my aunt Maureen was waiting to make the handoff after taking the morning shift. I had her from about three yesterday afternoon till seven this evening. Am considering getting tubes tied as I type. Well, not really. Actually, at the moment I'm trying to come up with excuses for not baby-sitting for the next couple of weeks should I be called upon. I'll have to pretend that I have a raging social life. Ha.
The thing is, I love kids. Really. And, of course, I love Emma -- she's sweet, and bright, and downright adorable. The type of kid who will, out of nowhere, look up from her scrambled eggs and say, "Hey Jessie? I love you," with complete sincerity. A very special kid, and I love her. But also extremely high maintenance. Meaning, every single activity had to be done together. Everything. From picking out a game, to getting the pieces of the game together, to playing the game, to picking up afterwards. Books are read together. Movies are watched together. Dolls are played with together. You get the idea. For a few hours, it's fun -- kids' toys (and especially kids' enthusiasm for them) are usually pretty cool. But after a while, it gets old. I found myself desperately stealing seconds to read Vogue (I've never read Vogue in my life!) because it was on some kind of adult level.
Not to mention the fact that it wears you out. So, by eight last night, I'm rarin' for the kid to go to bed. We go upstairs, into the room, and BOOM! The waterworks hit. And it does break your heart, seeing this little face scrunched up with tears rolling down her cheeks as she look at you like you've got the magic answer or, perhaps, their mommy and daddy squirrelled away somewhere, and will produce them should she become distraught enough. Finally, she gets to sleep, after so many verses of Old MacDonald that I ran out of animals the sounds of which I knew (anyone know what noise a crocodile makes?) and started making stuff up. Slipped downstairs, did the Child Is Sleeping Dance of Joy, and had three blissful hours of spacing out.
Then. 11:30. The little voice calling -- no, screeching -- my name. Up I go.
Timestamp: 11:30 Location: Emma's bedroom
Emma: (sob) I just miss them so much! (hiccup) I wuv them so much! (sob) I want to give them a hug! I don't like this bed, Mommy always lets me sleep in her bed.
Jess: (extremely sympathetic) Oh, I know, sweetie. And they love you too, they just had to go away on business. They're going to be home tomorrow night and I heard they're bringing you a special surprise. And remember how Mommy said that you had to be a big girl and sleep in your own bed tonight? You have a lovely room. Now lie down for a minute and I'll sing you a song.
Timestamp: 11:45 Location: Emma's bedroom
Emma: (hiccup) I just miss them so much! I wuv them so much! I want to give them a hug! (hiccup) They're never coming back! I don't like my room.
Jess: (still mostly sympathetic) Mommy and Daddy always come back. And of course you like your room, it's your room. It's beautiful. Now, lie down.
Timestamp: 12:00AM Location: Emma's bedroom
Emma: (faking any distress at this point, skirting dangerously near wide awake) I just miss them so much! I wuv them so much! I want to give them a hug! They're never coming back! I want to sleep in your bed.
Jess: Now what did I say about talking? Close your eyes. No talking. And you have to sleep in you own bed, we talked about this.
Timestamp: 12:15AM Location: The Guest Bedroom
Emma: (mostly triumphant, trying to sound a little sniffly) Goodnight, Jessie.
Jess: (defeated, trying not to sound bitter) Goodnight, Emma.
Emma: I love you.
Jess: (choked by guilt for negative thoughts for several moments) Love you too. Now sleep.
Was awoken at 6AM by Emma after a night of fitful sleeping, the cause of which was primarily the fact that Emma seems to like sleeping at a forty-five degree angle across the bed with her feet in the back of whomever is sharing the bed with her. Therefore, should there be any kicking fits, her companion has a distinctly rude awakening. No matter how many times I straightened her out, she ended up with her feet on my back again.
Somehow made it through the whole day, though I'm not sure how. I didn't get to sleep until well after one, and considering my 6AM wakeup call and the frequent interruptions, I felt like I hadn't slept at all. Had to subdue BitterlyTired!Jess and be FunPeppy!Jess as much as possible. Was, at many points, a losing battle. But Emma did seem to have fun.
Anyway, I survived. Am extremely exhausted and am going to end this entry here because the falling asleep at the keyboard thing I mentioned before may become a reality if I don't. Am too lazy to spell check, please forgive any and all errors.
