Friday, May 14, 2010

Rare Moments

It’s been a long week at work. I sit for hours on end staring at spreadsheets. We’re trying to build a language course for Spanish learners who are also paramedics or firefighters. It’s not hard work, but it’s sometimes difficult because it takes skills I’m not always certain I possess. Today is Friday, which means that with your mother’s new schedule (she’s working evenings as a hostess for a local restaurant), I get to watch you directly after work.

It was a warm day, and the humidity was probably 70-percent or higher. So when I drove down to pick you up, I was sweating the entire way. You were playing outside when I arrived. Your nose was running and your pretty little dress was covered at the top in snot and buggers—another sign of your recent invention: nose picking. The babysitter told me she needed a check for the week so we drove all the way back home then all the way back there. Then we went to the gym, but daycare was closing early so we only got about 30 minutes. We walked around the track (you love pulling the wagon around the running track) and then we went into the basketball court. You love balls and this is where they keep most of them so consequently you love the courts. In fact, you squealed when we walked into the courts. Then you ran over and picked out a purple basketball and started kicking it around and chasing after.

You’ve started this new thing. Moonwalking, really. You tell me I can’t squat and wait for the ball, I need to stand up. Then you get back to throw me the ball, but instead of throwing it you moonwalk. Back you go. Back. Back. Back. Then you throw the ball…and it creeps across the floor in my direction. I pick it up and ask if you’re ready…and you moonwalk for a while before saying yes. I roll the ball, you pick it up, and then the entire process begins again.

After this we stopped by the bike store and looked into getting a trailer for you and another bike for us. But we no sooner got there when you started breaking down and crying to go home. Off to the house we went. I put on a movie for you (your new favorite, Nemo) did the dishes, put food on the stove, fed Nico, cleaned the floors, straightened the living room…and then you were in the kitchen asking for food. Just in time, too. I plopped you down, but not before removing your dress because I somehow knew that with Russian dumplings and soup you were going to be covered in it all. Sure enough, you had soup dripping down into your lap and into the highchair. And the dumplings covered in Russian sour cream, oh man. You were drenching your fingers in it and stuffing your entire hands into your mouth. You LOVE cream and sauces of all kinds, but you really love Russian sour cream.

I was able to do a load of laundry, clean the stovetop, cook dinner and start a bath before you snapped out of your revere. Then it was into the bath. But something happened during your bath. The humidity cranked up to 90-percent or higher and suddenly Nico came running into the bathroom and tried getting into the tub with you! I pushed her back, but she was insistent so I picked her up and literally tossed her out the door. It didn’t take long before the thunder alerted me to the issue at hand. Nico hates lightning. She was shivering on the floor and scrambling to get into the bath, on top of the counter or in anyplace she felt she might be secure. And at that same time, you noticed a leaf in the tub and were full sure it was poop. “Poop! Poopoo!” you screamed. You stood up, wanting me to take you out, but Nico was now cowering on the floor in front of the tub. I tried getting you to sit. I tried getting Nico to leave the room. No such luck.

I took you wet from the tub and carried you out of the bathroom and upstairs to change your diaper and brush your teeth. But you wanted to play a game with brushing your teeth. Every time I came close with the brush you backed away and closed your mouth. Okay. No tooth brushing tonight. We read a little in the room, which you loved and then I basically started blacking out with exhaustion and so popped you into the crib then walked downstairs to change the laundry, wipe down the counters, and dry the dishes.

Ah, but where had Nico gone? It seemed obvious that she had tried to get into the tub without realizing there was water. I followed the footprints out the bathroom, across the kitchen floor and out the side door! Nico was out there in the storm that was now raging with lighting and thunder and pouring rain. Out into the rain I went. Eventually I found her in the backyard and brought her back. But the bleach I put on the stove was beginning to smell up the house so I had to go and clean that while Nico tried jumping onto the counters.
Finally you were down, Nico was under a bed somewhere and the storm was finally calm enough for me to open a beer and sit down on the front porch to tell you how beautiful it is right now, and how happy I am that we get to spend these busy and difficult times together. I went and checked on you to make sure you got to sleep okay. You were laying there wearing the one sock you insisted on wearing to bed. Your little body is getting very long. Soon you’ll be sleeping in a real bed. I just want to say that you are a little angel, and if this is how it has to be right now, this is how it has to be. We’re dreaming about another future as artists with more time at home, but that’s exactly why we’re working so hard at the moment. I just hope we all survive the overfullness of it all happening at once.

Love,
Dad


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