Thursday, January 31, 2013

What's Up?

“Do you want the small brush? The medium brush? Or the large brush?” I say to the artist.  

This week we’ve decided chalk and pens are for amateurs.  We agree that swirling and sweeping our brushes across blobs and dots of paint is the only way to go.  
“More purple Bal La Lee”.  
Did I mention The Cousin digs purple?  I did too when I was of the toddler age.  
I still do.  Purple is one of those gorgeous shades that no one can really deny its beauty or place in the world.  Teaching kids to make purple from red and blue is like offering them a small package of magic. THEY LOVE IT!
And so The Cousin proceeds in forward motion and she is so into it.  She sees no end in sight.
“More, Bal La Lee”.  "Again, Bal La Lee".  It’s somewhat frightening because you know; being the adult and all, that painting can’t go on endlessly into the night, right? But you also know, that even though you hold the cards, she holds the tantrum that is waiting to explode when you say that  it’s time to clean up the paints and brushes.  
Ahh, the almost 2-year old tantrum. It’s a special, special thing.
Sometimes I still have them.  But The Cousin's tantrums, though dramatic, don't last that long. She had a teeny weeny one today. Hell, she was tired. We turned on Pandora to our Raffi station and she wanted to hear Baa Baa Black Sheep. Since I don't subscribe to the Premium Pandora, where I'd have to pay, I get the freebie which doesn't allow you to choose specific song titles. Every other f@*!ing song came on except Baa Baa Black Sheep. I tried to sing and dance to the others, which usually makes her laugh and forget about the tantrum tornado that lay in wait, but not this time. 
The Cousin's technique consists of throwing her toys, throwing herself on the floor and flailing her limbs or choking Sweet Pea. That's it. Then it's over.

We had some "mini-episodes" today.  Nothing major.   

Although I feel pretty damn confident in many areas, I've never professed to mastering this job.  
I actually could use a nanny support group if the truth be known.
I came very close to calling my union rep today because had the tea been hot, I would have been fired. No doubt.  I put my cup up high enough, or so I thought.  But 'too high' and 'too challenging' are not in Sweet Pea's vocab and thank the Mother of God herself, the Moroccan Mint had cooled.

Yea, it's really funny.  Mommy's gonna think it's funny when the tea stain doesn't come out 
of your shirt or she sues my ass for child endangerment.

The other setbacks today were minor; simply one nanny's inability to set boundaries.
"Yep, I know I wasn't supposed to get into your bag"

And her inability to keep Sweet Pea's socks on.

I remember when my freshman English teacher at Camarillo High School had us write an essay entitled "Wednesdays".
It took me forever to even get a visual because at that time in my life, as so many other times, Wednesdays could be summed up in one word:   Boring.
Those days are gone, my friends.  My Wednesdays are nothing remotely close to boring now. 

There's something way cool about The Cousin's style.  Today's look is reminiscent of the young 
16-year old boys I see walking home from school, pants down below their asses, boxers in full view, skateboards under their arms...
And what about the bed-head? I am such a feeble opponent. 
She didn't want it brushed, so I didn't push it.
What's Up, Bed Head Girl?

It’s so cool to walk around downtown with The Cousin and Sweet Pea all bundled up and tucked in their double-decker Cadillac of a stroller. People are super-oober nice to me. No seriously. 
I mean I feel as if I’m actually reaching celebrity status.  Men smile. Old ladies say, “Hello” and tell me how terrific I am; what a great job I'm doing.  Other moms nod at me as if we’re in the same club and we have oodles in common.  I feel young because a few (a very slight few) ask me, “How old are your children?”  Now that’s worth a million bucks for sure. But then there’s the ‘assumers’, “Do you and your husband live here in town?”  But I’ll tell you what really clinches my jaw. 
It happened today.  So, I’m sitting on a park bench after power-walking for 30 minutes, singing my heart out in hopes they'll crash.  Finally, they’re both out.  It’s heavenesque. 
So I park the rig in the sun, put the sun protector flaps over their little faces, take off my glasses, close my eyes, lean back and soak up the rays. The only sound I hear are a few sparrows chirping in the distance. Gone are the screaming tantrums.  Gone is the hustle, bustle and mayhem of 2 babes throwing books, spilling juice, pulling their diapers off.  It’s just me, the sun and a few restful thoughts.
Then suddenly, some oblivious dude with a long gray beard and a SF Giants cap approaches the stroller, pokes his big ‘ole head in and with a voice that sounds like he’s just smoked a pack of Marlboro’s says, “Hey! Are the cuties twins?”
My Nirvana comes to a screeching halt and I instantly want to strangle him. 
The Cousin opens her eyes first. 
She’s petrified of the bearded man and starts to whimper rather loudly. I have absolutely no urge to be polite. 
I shoot him a look. He gets off easy though because I really just want to head-butt him.
I encourage The Cousin not to wake Sweet Pea, which is a joke.
Soon, we're all wide awake and we head for the park.
Today, The Cousin's dad meets us there and I have never felt so free.
It was quite pleasant actually.
A 2-parent family is definitely helpful.  With him on "swing duty",  I'm able to watch Sweet Pea and she actually doesn't have a chance in hell of eating leaves or wood chips.  I'm on it.

She did, however, eat peach yogurt earlier in the day. 
She's like a garbage disposal.  Man, I couldn't shovel the stuff in fast enough.
What's Up, Yogurt Lovers?

I think Wednesdays are under-rated. Hump day. Didn't we call 'em that once upon a time? 
We're half-way there; trying to make it to the weekend. But what exactly is our hurry?
These girls are "minute by minute" in a moment that could last briefly or for hours.  They don't give a damn what day it is. Every day is a great day!
They are blissful most of the time, and because they are... I am.

Well, it's almost 8:00 p.m. Nightie night all!


  1. I love your descriptions...I could picture everything and feel what you were feeling...sitting in the sun, that guy distubing everything...

    fun to read!!

  2. That impish grin on Sweet Pea's face as she sits in her tea-drenched shirt without a care in the world says volumes about you and your nanny-style. No tears in sight, though I could almost hear your heart thumping at the thought of what could have happened. Your sigh of relief that it didn't!
    And The Cousin's artistic bent? Bet her mom and dad will start posting a collection on their refrigerator of their "budding artist." Bal La Lee, those two are so fortunate to have you around each Wednesday...sort of an enrichment day for both. Bed hair? No sweat! Want to go for a ride in the stroller while I sing to you? How special is that? And a minute of quiet for the nanny to bask in the sunshine! Priceless!!