It’s coming upon 4AM. I know why this is:
1. I happened to have a diet Mountain Dew with dinner last night.
(1a. It was actually by choice, not by chance.)
(1b. I never drink diet drinks, but they must have reformulated the caffeine, because this stuff ain’t got no mercy.)
2. A small human child will be up in about 90 minutes, and I don’t want him to catch me off guard. I’m banking on Disney and crayons and a lot of sunshine to help me out. Perhaps also food bribes. Goldfish, don’t fail me now.
I’m on a babysitting gig. This is probably the only time today I’ll have to my own thoughts, which is probably for the best, considering my own thoughts of late have turned me into a big, puffy itchy hive.
I tried going to bed around 12:30 this morning, which wasn’t really productive. All I remember is waking once around 2:30, then my friend knocking on the door at 3:30 to let me know she and her husband were leaving. I followed them downstairs and I lay on the couch for a few minutes to prepare for the shock of a freshly waking child who may happen to be grumpy in the form of screaming.
This may seem a bit sarcastic, but also don’t forget:
1. I am jacked up on caffeine.
2. I have seen how the children behave around their parents (delightful and generally typical 2-year-old behavior but manageable), and I have seen them not around their parents (delightful and the other extreme to the nth degree).
– These children will be around me all day into tomorrow (Friday) morning.
– I am not their parents.
– Do the math.
I might be online sporadically throughout the day. Don’t hesitate to comment with suggestions or reassurances, or you can also make fun of me, as long as it makes me laugh. You’ll probably count that as reassuring me. Text me. Send singing telegrams. Whatever it takes.
The churn of the washer provides some nice, white noise. All that sloshing and agitating makes me sleepy. The spin cycle should put me over the edge. I should try to catch a few winks in the next hour. I pray that I dream of you. And if you’re single (or not), and you’re available to babysit when the time comes to watch over my babies, you’re on my list for such a sweet gig. And my dream is that terror and uncertainty don’t consume you when I make this request – imploring you with my irresistible puppy-dog eyes – but only love and eagerness and acceptance because
1. I’ve been such a good friend to you over the years, and I love you. So. Very. Much.
2. I will take you DOWN if you don’t do this for me.
All right, folks, here we go. Let’s just hope the caffeine lasts longer than these sweet bundles of … joy?
One thought on “The Time”
Don’t worry, you will be great! You were so good with Big Guy, I know you will be an awesome babysitter! 🙂