It began as a school holiday. 15 year old man child was watching wild child so it was already an adventurous day. I had the luxury of a 7:30pm overseas call for work so my schedule was a bit topsy turvy. Big girl was spending her 3rd day with a friend. We were all over the place.
Despite high hopes my call was not a success. I braved the icy roads and make it home about 9:10. I am met at the door by an urchin. Full on urchin; Hair ratty, tangled and matted to her head. Under man child’s watch she’s obviously found my makeup drawer. She proclaims,”I dit my makeup so I look like a princess.” She failed to mention she is a princess from the WALKING DEAD series. She’s wearing a red-satin flouncy top with rhinestones across the chest. Her legs are crammed into silvery sparkly tights that might have fit when she was a year old. Maybe. They are so tight and stretched that they are opaque. Oh but we aren’t done. She’s got no less than 45 bracelets on her arms. Her feet are clad in black-suede-hi-heeled boots that my cousin sent in a bag of hand-me-down clothes. They are easily 3 sizes too big.
And she was crying. She’d waited all say to watch her b-ideos (videos) on the iPad but the first swipe of that chunky finger across the shattered screen and a minuscule piece of glass got caught in her skin. You would have thought a great white shark had eaten her hand. About the 95th time she asked me to look at it I admitted I couldn’t even see it. Ms. Drama didn’t handle that so well.
By now it’s 9:44. I haven’t had dinner. I’ve had drama glued to one leg and the dog under the other. Lights were flicking and going out so both child and animal were antsy. If I had a last nerve it was gone at this point.
And than we lost wi-fi. Good lord. The drama that followed that revaluation is embarrassing.
In defeat I demanded everyone was going to bed. With the electricity flickering the girls elected to have a sleepover in my room. I was down for some cuddle time so I didn’t put up a fight.
Round 1: me and big girl in the bed with little one in a sleeping bag looking at me.
Round 2: big girl and dog snoring with their heads on the pillows. Little girl in sleeping bag with me clinging precariously to the side of the bed.
Round 3: big girl talks in her sleep so she woke me up chatting nonsensical words. Dog was obviously chasing something in her sleep because her legs were going a mile a minute. Little girl on floor and me wide awake.
Round 4: I get up to move to the couch. My feet aren’t in the floor solidly when the Dog takes my spot. Big girl still talking and little girl sucking her thumb on the floor.
Round 5: I jolt awake to “you left me!” Baby girl is pissed! I throw back the quilt and she climbs in. I assure her I didn’t leave her-I was kicked out of bed and simply moved to the couch. Mollified she tucks her thumb into her mouth and assumes her position so I can “tuddle to her bagdt” aka cuddle to her back.
Round 6: I am scrubbing the couch while she cries. As I tuddled to her bagdt I was met with the unpleasant sensation of cuddling with a soggy sponge. Man-child obviously paid no heed to the liquid intake while babysitting.
Round 7: couch scrubbed, baby girl naked as a jay bird while I fumble in the dark for clean-dry clothes. Not the best time for a lecture on not wetting the bed but I was delivering it anyway.
Round 8: back to my room. Squish. Remember baby girl sleeping on the floor looking at me? Now I know what woke her up.
Round 9: I am now scrubbing the carpet. Sleeping bag is thrown in the dryer that had been declared “non-repairable”. Girl is really crying now. Dog thinks it’s time to get up so she’s licking and nudging and sniffing and cavorting all over the bed. I am now lecturing in earnest. Baby is really crying now.
Round 10: kick dog out of bed. Settle baby girl into bed. Scoot big girl out of middle of the bed. My body is sighing in relief and I lay back and pull the quilt toward my chin.
Round 11: don’t get the quilt to my chin because I hear dog in the trash. Get up. Step in wet spot on floor. Cuss. Loudly. Scold dog. Move trash can. Go back into my room and …. Girls are both spread eagle and asleep. I find a sliver of space and ease down.
Round 12: dog realizes we are not getting up and rejoins is in the bed. I can’t stretch my legs but at least I have my pillow. Big girl is snoring but not talking. Little girl cracks one eye at me. “You mad at me?” She asks. “Yes,” I answer. It’s 4:15. “You are a big girl. You can’t wet the bed.” I say. I kiss her to ease the sting if my words. I lay down clinging to the edge of the bed. I don’t tuddle to her bagdt.
Round 13: big girl snoring. Dog on the bottom 1/2 of my bed. I am working hard to silence my rapidly twisting brain. It’s pitch black. The air is cold. The nights been exhausting. I am overwrought and wrung out. I have to find someway of getting big kids fed, boy child to practice, little girl home from daycare all while needing to be on another night call at my office. I can’t sleep for worrying and wondering how I was going to make it all work.
Suddenly I feel a little arm inch over my waist. I feel her scooch up on the bed until her cheek can rest on the back of my neck. Her chest presses against my back and she whispers in the dark, “it’s okay. I tuddle to your bagdt tonite mama.”
Round 14: finally fall blissfully to sleep with my 2 girls and the dog they love so.