Being Ginger, Fairy Dust Cookies & Matters of Such Importance

It's been awhile. I still have a pulse. So do they.  I told the mom yesterday, "Feel free to check the hidden cameras for verification that I'm not harming Lil Sis."  
It's been 4 weeks since our courtship began.  Four long weeks of this:

"This nanny is not what I ordered!"

And this:

"Where's my Grandma? My Momma? Anybody but the woman in glasses."

During meltdowns (mine not hers), I've actually pleaded with The Cousin as to why this is happening? "What am I doing wrong?" I pathetically ask the 3-year old. 

"She's just not used to you yet, Valerie." She replies matter-a-factly.

Well, that's bullshit! Kids love me! I wanna scream these words at the top of my amateurish nanny lungs and yet, I regroup in a mindful, yoga type pattern of breathing. 

"I'm not Cinderella. I'm the Fairy Godmother."

Thank God I have a Fairy Godmother! I'm on the verge of asking her to do some "bippity boppity boo" and make Lil Sis turn into a pumpkin.

She wore this outfit yesterday and proceeded to make me "fairy dust cookies." 

They were absolutely delicious! I tell her so. I tell her she can be anything she wants; an artist, a chef, a mechanic, an architect. She tells me she wants to "go on expeditions with Chrissy." 

(Christopher Robbins) This guy is her current favorite and I can see why. He's smart, kind, 

well-read, curious and adventurous. The Cousin and I have these discussions when Lil Sis is snoozing. They are now routinely interrupted when the vocal and independent "ginger" is awake.  

Whew! All fire, man!  If it wasn't me attempting to tame the flame, I'd find her quite charming I'm sure.

One week, Lil Sis slept for 3 hours.  (Nanny Confession: I didn't check to see if she was still breathing.)

Can one say, "Paradise?" It's paradise when she naps.  Let's just be honest. 

It's the fucking Garden of Eden. 

It's true, The Cousin and I are having to adjust. You see, pre-Lil Sis, she and I had lots of time to explore, create, discuss matters of such importance, get into trouble.  That's all changed slightly.

And, she's a bit irritated about the change and the whole "attention thing."  Can you blame her?

"Valerie?"

"Yes?"

"Let's give her privacy. Just put her in the other room and close the door."

I can see where The Cousin is coming from. 

The Cousin and I have a lot in common, as I've had the same thoughts. 

When I was in my junior college years, I studied child development and then went on to get my teaching credential. I was a pompous, 'know-it-all' when it came to children and other important matters and I swore, (even wrote papers about it) that I would never plop my child or any other person's child in front of a television, video, etc.  I spewed the research to anyone who would listen about "the evils and harm" of those types of distractions.

Let's just say things have changed.

"Valerie, I'll be done in a minute." 

"Go ahead and stay 5 more minutes." Hell, stay as long as you like.

I say this in order to get Lil Sis' diaper changed. I say this to give me time to feed Lil Sis. I say this because I have learned to carry Lil Sis in a pack on my chest while I do dishes and clean up the house. 

I say this because I'm not very good at doing all of the above and, simultaneously, engaging in conversations with a 3-year old.  

Lil Sis is a challenge, but there are others in this household...

Challenge # 104 for the nanny.

Challenge #105

This house is a diabetic wet dream.  

Each Wednesday, amidst the shitty diapers and screams of discontent, I fight off binging.  I can see why stay-at-home-parents do it. I can see why they down a box of Wheat Thins or a bag of Milano cookies, while listening to Ellen and looking at their Iphones.  Do I condone it? Hell no! Do I have a great understanding and appreciation for it now, hell yes! 

Folks, it is getting better. The Cousin loves to bake and a couple Wednesdays ago, we made her mom a Mother's Day cake.  (Let me be clear, though tempting, I did not partake in the bottles of red liquid behind the mixing bowl.)

"I don't crack eggs, Valerie."

"But I do shake, shake, shake the sprinkles."

"Happy Mother's Day, Momma!"

Yesterday, we met Sweet Pea and her mom at the park.  

Carrying a baby in one of those chest/back contraptions isn't easy, but I forged ahead because Sweet Pea's mom is young, energetic, in shape and I fully intended to take advantage of her being there.

First, I practiced...

"The bags under my eyes are well-earned."

Then, the real deal...

"This is gonna be interesting."

Caledonia Park, Pacific Grove, CA...

Sweet Pea aka "I can do it myself."

We made it home before the "tireds" set in, and in all honesty, it was a pretty good day.

Let's call it a "half bottle of red" rather than a "full bottle of red" kinda day. 

However, a question, to all you parentals out there, continues to loop through my brain-feed, 

"After having one, why in the hell would you have another?!"

Thanks for reading, y'all!

~tpg

"I'll ease up when I feel she gains an understanding of who's really in charge."

I Stroll P.G.

7:05 a.m.

I can't find my f@#king glasses. I have retraced my steps from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen. I have looked under the bed covers, in bottom drawers of cabinets, on the floor. I have dumped my entire purse out twice.

7:26 a.m.

I still can't find my glasses and I'm going to be late if I don't get in the car and drive.
Funny how life looks when it's blurry. Well, funny for the first hour, but after 2 or 3 hours, a slight headache will begin to set in. Nausea too.
Not to mention I can't see the center divider line clearly.
Or the children or the children for that matter.  What about the children!!!!

7:55 a.m.

"Good morning girls!"
Silence.
"Hi! How are you two this morning?"

"Wallery, where are your glasses?"
"I can't find them."
Silence.

"You look weird, Wallery."

"I have an idea, Wallery!"
I could use a good idea right about now.

The Cousin runs to the back bedroom and then returns with bells on.
"You can wear these glasses, Wallery!"

                                    Sweet Pea wants to show me her new tee: I stroll P.G. 

"Baa Bee, I gotta a new shirt!"

PG, for those who aren't local, stands for Pacific Grove, the butterfly capital of the world.

Also the town that has a f#@king parade for everything. Dog parade, butterfly parade, lantern parade, Fourth of July, Wild West, hug your neighbor parade, it's a sunny day in our town so let's have a parade parade.

We do stroll the streets of Pacific Grove. We hit the pavement early. We know every alleyway, dead end, broken piece of sidewalk, storefront, and yes, bakery in this fog bank of a town.

"Can we go to the coffeeshop, Wallery?"

The reason The Cousin wants to hit the coffeeshop is that they have these amazing cinnamon, gluten-free, corn syrup-free cookies. I taught her how to dip there. What would a childhood memory be without the reflections of cookies dipped in a cup of milk?

Aww...childhood memories. Dare I go there? I have some good ones and some not so good ones, but one of my best ones is that of my brother and I closing all the bedroom doors and shooting marbles down the carpeted hallway.  Another is he and I in front of the console stereo, him on the "air drums" and me with my hairbrush as a microphone, singing Creedence Clearwater songs at the top of our lungs.  Other include mom and me shopping, running with our shaggy dog in the open field by our house, baking cookies with my best friend, Linda Herrick...

I want these two muchkins to have the best childhood memories and a handful of them will be with me.  The park. Project time. Building forts inside the house. Dancing and spinning until we all fall down. And yes, going to the coffeeshop for cinnamon cookies.

Look who we hooked up with yesterday! This cute girl!

"How the hell do you do this nanny thing?"

The Cousin is eyeing Sweet Pea's cookie because you see, she already finished hers. I know that kid like I know my own shadow and y'all probably know that I go to the coffeeshop for an afternoon jolt of caffeine not  a cookie.

I have a plethora of reasons why I take these two to el parque. We actually went twice yesterday. I go for the fresh air, the escape from the four walls. I go for the exercise. God knows I need it! I go to hang out with cool parents and to learn how to breathe deeply when I observe not-so-cool parents.  I go to wear their asses out. Because 99% of the time, they crash in the stroller on the way home and I can head for the coffeeshop without them knowing.
Slideshow:

I don't know why but I always think there's gotta be creeps that hang out at a park. Yesterday there was this guy. He was sitting alone and watching all the kids, then jotting shit down in his little notebook. 

At first I thought he was a grandpa/writer, more attentive to his writing than his grandkids. After an hour or so passed, I realized that no kids were coming even remotely close to him. Suddenly I find myself in the middle of a CSI episode and I convince myself he's a stalker/pedophile. I plan out his entire demise, the details of his arrest, how I will use force and succeed at cuffing him, how I will haul him downtown to the police and how Pacific Grove will hail me a heroine and host one of their damn parades in my honor. All the while, I am playing with Sweet Pea and The Cousin.

He spots me and I'm sure he knows I'm onto him. He then vanishes into thin air, much like my crime thriller, and I'm jolted back into reality. One of the girls is having a meltdown near the swings.

"Load 'em up, ladies! It's time to say bye bye to the park."

"NOOOOOOOOO! Five more minutes, Wallery!"

"Let's bargain. Two more minutes, friends."

This "no-thing" is becoming my nemesis.  I see it as assertion of their power, expressing their independence, having control over their world; a world in which every single thing is dictated to them by grown-ups.

And I see it as a pain in my ass.

"Let's go!"

And I win.  

Always the goal is to have them both fall asleep simultaneously. That's critical. But when just one does, that's joyful too.

Have an awesome weekend, pals!

~tpg

It's Just Another Day

Sometimes in life you've just gotta take a few risks.  We might stumble, crash, get our index finger stuck in an electric socket, but if we don't take chances, tell me how rich and interesting can our lives truly be?
I'm reminded of this and so many other lessons when I watch this kid.  As syrupy as this might sound, she's one of my greatest teachers on the entire planet.  She constantly reminds me to take risks. (though I break a sweat).  She reminds me to laugh.  She reminds me to dance when the music starts to play.  Oh, we have our moments.
We squabble about a few minor issues, such as nap time and playing near the heater grate, but isn't that all part of this thing we call life?  Sweet Pea and I differed about her climbing these cement steps.
I wanted to allow her a few moments of independence without jeopardizing her safety of course. I also wanted to get the shot.  The part I couldn't snap was her "toddler tantrum" when I disrupted her climb as she was approaching the "danger zone".  Boy was she p.o.'d at me for taking her off the peak.

"Climb every mountain."

I think this last week with the "Dynamic Duo" centered around a couple important "themes" and certainly those themes could be referrred to as "lessons."

Risk-taking and pushing ourselves to our own personal limits was definately one.  Sweet Pea pretty much does that 24/7, whereas The Cousin needs some encouragement.  

Which is where I come in. 

Sweet Pea takes the world by the balls.  The Cousin is an observer.

Think about the people you know.  Think about your own-self.  The world is surely big enough for all of us; the "ball grabbers" and "the observant ones", eh?

"I'm in the zone."

The Cousin is a rare gem.  She's a thinker.  She is inquisitive about the world around her, yes, but she doesn't jump off buildings or dive into trash cans like Sweet Pea.  She sits back and watches, accesses, puts the tip of her big toe in the pool to test the waters, never her whole foot.  But she makes her mark just fine. She insisted on wearing her hat inside out with the tag in front. Hey, that's cool with the nanny!  Her eyes lit up when she figured out how to hold the chalk on its side and "shade" rather than "write" with it. 

In addition to the lesson's of "risk-taking" and "pushing limits", "lack of privacy" was a biggie last week as well; 

Specifically, mine.

Sparing y'all the nitty gritty details, let's just summarize the day by saying, the nanny had stomach issues of the unpleasant kind.  It's not a cake walk when you don't feel well and have to make several trips to el bano, all the while caring for 2 toddlers. Welcome to my Wednesday. There I sat on the toilet. And there they both stood, side by side, less than 10" away from my sorry self, just staring at me.  

"What are you doing, Bal La Lee?" The Cousin inquired.  "I need to poop. I have a tummy ache."  

"Pooh Bear poops." she responded.  "Yep. Everybody poops." I say. She then runs to her room and returns with a Winnie the Pooh book, opening it to a page where deer poop rests in the snow. 

By this time, Sweet Pea has positioned herself even closer to me and is patting my leg.  "Girls, can you wait for Valerie in the other room?" I say like an idiot, as if they're not babies.  The staring continues. Suddenly, I let out a familiar sound. The Cousin beams.

"Toot! You toot, Bal La Lee!" "Yep, everybody toots" I say.

Moving right along, we take it in the other room to enjoy some of our faves: Clifford the Big Red Dog, Cat in the Hat and Super Readers.  This is usually around the time I look at the clock, notice it's only 9:00 am and say, "Shit." to myself.

"I'm taking one of those Cheerios and there ain't nothing you can do about it."

Just when we thought we finally survived the teething stage with Sweet Pea, she has a mother-of-a-molar pushing through her gums.  It's gigantic! She's reverted back to biting, gnawing and sucking on any and everything she can get her mouth on.

"This is helping."

"Damn Teeth."

"That's a kiss not a gnaw."

The teething solution in 2013:

Okay, I'm old. But what the hell is this? I'm telling you, these girls' moms have all the latest inventions. This is a frozen fruit sucker, bpa-free. Sweet Pea's mom places chunks of frozen mangoes or strawberries in the netted pouch for Sweet Pea to suck on. I really think the damn thing was a waste of money because Sweet Pea demonstrated, at least to me, that she'd much rather suck on the door knob or a computer cord than this cutesy gadget.

The Cousin's language skills are better than many 50-year-olds I know. Each week, she amazes me with 7 or 8-word sentences that begin with words like "Yesterday" or "Actually".  Soon I will have to carry a pocket grammar dictionary just to make sure she doesn't correct me.  

She's one cool kid.  They both are. 

I guess this last week was a simple one for the 3 of us.  Nothing ground-breaking, earth-shattering to report.

No occurrences of mass chaos. Nothing crazy-ass funny that would make y'all fall of your 

chaise lounges. 

It was close to ordinary. Just another day...

~tpg