Saturday, August 3, 2013

"Burrito! Burrito!"

What started several years back as a "friendship email" has become what today's culture calls a "blog."
In looking back over all of my blog posts, I am able to see which ones had the most, and least, views. I find it pretty interesting that it's not one from my tales at the trailer park, nor is it one of the adventures of Sweet Pea and The Cousin that has received the most views.  There's one, and only one, with hundreds of views and it's the interview I did with Ellen regarding the F-word. You people crack me up!!! Now, I 'effin understand y'all.
So, I'll begin this morning's ditty by attaching the link of that popular blog written back in May of 2012.
It has absolutely nothing to do with today's blog!

My readership asks me all the time, "Do you embellish your blogs about nanny life?"  
And the answer is rather simple, "HELL NO!"
I can't make this shit up and why would I want to? I'm like an umpire behind home plate; I call it like I see it. It's easier that way. Embellishment requires actually thinking. It requires tedious work and concentration.  Formulating interesting scenarios, that do not exist, would require my energy, time and also lead one to believe that I have nothing better to do in my life than to exaggerate.
Embellishment happens on CNN, FOX, ABC, NBC, The Simpsons.
We can all get our "stretched-like-salt-water-taffy truths" there.
But here y'all, is the real f!@king deal.
"I the burrito."

"Burrito! Burrito!"

"Cheese please."

I had a significant lapse in judgement yesterday. I taught them the "burrito game" using the curtains as the tortilla.  Basically, The Cousin wraps Sweet Pea up as if she were the carne-filling and then we'd all yell, "Burrito! Burrito!" The laughter filled the apartment. Instantly, the three of us turned crazy.
Sometimes, I'm a child. During these occasional "breaks" I lose all sense of who's in charge, who know's best, who's the individual that's being paid to keep the kids safe.

This week, I'm double duty; two days of such exhausting nonsense because the grandmother is taking a day off. She deserves it. This grandma is incredible. Unsure if the parentals truly appreciate this woman, but she not only watches these girls for free, GRATIS!, but she does laundry for them as well.
Double duty equates to 18 hours. If I'm still standing by 5:00 p.m. on Friday, it will be an act of God.

Trying to calm them down after Burrito Burrito is not easy. And who's f@!king fault is that?
Anyway, I decide on books and The Cousin insists on reading to me.
"...and then the doggie, and the mommy, and the house and the blue twisting, twisting..."
When The Cousin reads to me, it's as if it's 1967, the psychedelics are rampid and Inagodadavida is playing in the background. I find myself really needing to concentrate on the plot.
Then, half way through the book, that all too familiar smell permeates my nostrils.
It's strong. It's potent. And the last thing the storyteller wants to do is have her diaper changed.
After a minor struggle, she gives in and up on the changing table she goes.

I recall my mom saying to me, "There's always a first time for everything."  
And what was about to take place was just that: a first.

The diaper is full and it's smeared all over her bottom.  I'm attempting to hold her legs up with one hand, keep the shit off the table and clean her with the other.  To make matters more complex, Sweet Pea has climbed up on the not-so-sturdy playroom table...
"Look at me, Baa Bee!"
Wishing I were an octopus, I attempt the impossible of trying to keep the changing table "poop free" and save Sweet Pea from getting yet another bruise. That "first" that my mom talked about years ago, happened:

Yep. That's on the laminate. 
Of course, that 4-letter word that y'all like so much, blared through my head.
Yet, I showed to indication of my stress. "Let's get cleaned up and go outside, ladies!" There's always an underlying motive to going to the park or for a walk. Yes, you want them to learn about their surroundings. Yes, the birdies and the flowers and the cars that go "beep!beep!" These discussions are rich and they aid in their language development. The park certainly helps with their motor skills, not to mention, their social skills. 
But the underlying reason for these types of activities is to wear their asses out! 
The Cousin is in a new phase in her life where she has to take Nomi, her fake baby sister, everywhere. Of course, she tires of carrying Nomi in the first 2 minutes of the walk and guess who gets her.

"You hold Nomi, Wallery."

3:00 p.m. 
Time for a cookie. I think that was the first word Sweet Pea learned and I do believe grandma taught her it.

3:00 p.m. 
Cinderella. (Not my choice for building strong, independent women.)

3:30 p.m.
Project time.

"Can I eat it?"

"Blue circles!"

4:10 p.m.
Things are returning to silly.  I can't help myself.  My response to their "duo-picking" is
"Pick a winner!"  So childish.

And why children eat it, even after they've had a wholesome snack, is beyond me.
But then again, I'm just the nanny.  I'm the nanny who loves when I see the big hand on the 12 and the little hand on the 5.

6:35 p.m.


1 comment:

  1. Oh, Wallery! What a can only get better (I hope). The burrito game looks like fun...glad the curtains didn't fall.
    Could you make all this up? Absolutely not! Carry on, Friend, and may your second day this week in kiddie-camp go well (and quickly) for the Nanny, Sweet Pea and The Cousin.