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fearlesstempHave survived the weekend o' babysitting on Cape Cod. Just caught sight of myself in the mirror and almost screamed in fear at the sight -- sunburned cheeks, bleary eyes, huge circles under said eyes, and, to top it all off, massive zit between my (needing to be plucked) eyebrows. All of this is framed by my lovely super-flat and nasty looking hair, which was thrown up in a bun this morning minutes after waking up and never really did get brushed. Lovely, lovely.
I appear to have pulled something in my back from picking up the five year old too often all weekend, so that I walk quite normally from the feet to the hips, but then have to bend forward at something like a forty-five degree angle in order to walk comfortably. Hope to God that this eases up for tomorrow so that I don't walk around like an ape all day.
The weekend was good! We had:
*Two (2) animals to hang out with. Sprout, Emma's cute kitty, and Guinness, this huge dog my aunt and uncle were taking care of for the bride and groom. Even though the dog was exceptionally well-behaved, had horrible fears the dog would have a fit and bite off Emma's face or something. Am definitely a cat person. Sprout, also, was a challenge, as his big thing is drinking out of glasses (anyone's glasses, no matter what's in them, and if he can't get his little face deep enough in the cup, he just knocks them over).
*One (1) Vomit Incident. This happened Friday night, when the kid woke up and started wandering towards the living room. I spotted her in the hallway, face all scrunched up, voice all wavery, so went out to see what was wrong:
Emma: [Sniffling] I want Mommy.
Me: [Picking her up.] Oh, Em, I know. It's so sad. [Sniffing suspiciously] Are you --
Emma: [RETCH]
Anyhoo, raced into the bathroom but was too late, the both of us already covered in vomit, and then had to somehow accomplish the multiple goals of (a) steering her towards the toilet bowl, (b) figuring out if she was actually done vomiting, (c) getting her to stop crying and calm down, (d) get her changed, (e) get her washed off, (f) get myself out of the stank-eriffic T-shirt, and, the ultimate goal, (g) get her back to sleep/in bed. All of these were achieved except for the getting-back-in-bed part, mostly because all of her bedding had to be changed, but she really was a trouper and once we got past that ten-minute puking/sobbing period, she really toughed it out and it wasn't so bad.
Except for the changing-the-bedding part. That part kinda sucked.
*Two (2) early morning wake up calls. Emma's method of getting me up involved leaping on my bed at seven in the morning and staying there until I got up, which was probably around twenty minutes. This made me realize that my terrible snooze habit has made me incapable of waking up and getting right out of bed. I now need at least twenty to thirty minutes of dazed half-slumber before I can get up. Must work on getting rid of this dependency.
*One (1) major hellacious temper tantrum. I told my aunt and uncle I'd watch her so they could sleep (both of them were terribly [and understandably] hung over). Things were fine until Emma became aware of the fact that her mother was in the house, sleeping, and that I didn't want her to disturb her mom, at which point she freaked out and started screaming, stomping, the whole nine. She ended up sitting in there with my aunt, who I knew really wanted to sleep, but every time I tried to sneak into the bedroom to lure Emma away, she reached even higher levels of tantrum-throwing, screaming and crying and banging her fists, backing away from me across the floor like some poor beleaguered heroine of a Lifetime movie who's been kidnapped and is forced to face her terrifying, cruel captor. Except I swear I'm not terrifying or cruel! I was offering her Elbow Macaroni! And Scooby Doo! But no dice.
(She did eventually calm down. It was kind of scary for a few minutes, though. I feared I'd developed some alternate personality who'd done terrible things to create such fear in her. Turns out she was just hungry and didn't know it -- once we got some macaroni and cheese slices in her, she was fine.)
Anyway, all in all a tolerable, if tiring weekend. And now I've got another paper due that I really don't want to write. Blah blah, bitch moan, moan bitch. Cannot wait to be done with school.
I appear to have pulled something in my back from picking up the five year old too often all weekend, so that I walk quite normally from the feet to the hips, but then have to bend forward at something like a forty-five degree angle in order to walk comfortably. Hope to God that this eases up for tomorrow so that I don't walk around like an ape all day.
The weekend was good! We had:
*Two (2) animals to hang out with. Sprout, Emma's cute kitty, and Guinness, this huge dog my aunt and uncle were taking care of for the bride and groom. Even though the dog was exceptionally well-behaved, had horrible fears the dog would have a fit and bite off Emma's face or something. Am definitely a cat person. Sprout, also, was a challenge, as his big thing is drinking out of glasses (anyone's glasses, no matter what's in them, and if he can't get his little face deep enough in the cup, he just knocks them over).
*One (1) Vomit Incident. This happened Friday night, when the kid woke up and started wandering towards the living room. I spotted her in the hallway, face all scrunched up, voice all wavery, so went out to see what was wrong:
Emma: [Sniffling] I want Mommy.
Me: [Picking her up.] Oh, Em, I know. It's so sad. [Sniffing suspiciously] Are you --
Emma: [RETCH]
Anyhoo, raced into the bathroom but was too late, the both of us already covered in vomit, and then had to somehow accomplish the multiple goals of (a) steering her towards the toilet bowl, (b) figuring out if she was actually done vomiting, (c) getting her to stop crying and calm down, (d) get her changed, (e) get her washed off, (f) get myself out of the stank-eriffic T-shirt, and, the ultimate goal, (g) get her back to sleep/in bed. All of these were achieved except for the getting-back-in-bed part, mostly because all of her bedding had to be changed, but she really was a trouper and once we got past that ten-minute puking/sobbing period, she really toughed it out and it wasn't so bad.
Except for the changing-the-bedding part. That part kinda sucked.
*Two (2) early morning wake up calls. Emma's method of getting me up involved leaping on my bed at seven in the morning and staying there until I got up, which was probably around twenty minutes. This made me realize that my terrible snooze habit has made me incapable of waking up and getting right out of bed. I now need at least twenty to thirty minutes of dazed half-slumber before I can get up. Must work on getting rid of this dependency.
*One (1) major hellacious temper tantrum. I told my aunt and uncle I'd watch her so they could sleep (both of them were terribly [and understandably] hung over). Things were fine until Emma became aware of the fact that her mother was in the house, sleeping, and that I didn't want her to disturb her mom, at which point she freaked out and started screaming, stomping, the whole nine. She ended up sitting in there with my aunt, who I knew really wanted to sleep, but every time I tried to sneak into the bedroom to lure Emma away, she reached even higher levels of tantrum-throwing, screaming and crying and banging her fists, backing away from me across the floor like some poor beleaguered heroine of a Lifetime movie who's been kidnapped and is forced to face her terrifying, cruel captor. Except I swear I'm not terrifying or cruel! I was offering her Elbow Macaroni! And Scooby Doo! But no dice.
(She did eventually calm down. It was kind of scary for a few minutes, though. I feared I'd developed some alternate personality who'd done terrible things to create such fear in her. Turns out she was just hungry and didn't know it -- once we got some macaroni and cheese slices in her, she was fine.)
Anyway, all in all a tolerable, if tiring weekend. And now I've got another paper due that I really don't want to write. Blah blah, bitch moan, moan bitch. Cannot wait to be done with school.
