Today Was A Shit Show


Actually.

It was a vomitorium.

The oldest boy puking, everywhere.

Just after baths.

Fifteen minutes before I am leaving.

Just after getting home from swimming lessons, a raucous dinner, a crazy younger brother who did not nap and construction on both sides of the house all day.

Plus the housecleaner was there today.

And I made a double batch of the family’s favorite dinner.

Oof.

It was a day.

Not a bad day, either.

Just busy.

Sometimes things happen and it’s not good or bad, it’s just what it is.

Oh and a trip to the market and a trip to the coffee shop and the park.

I mean.

It makes the day go fast.

And I do like being needed.

Although at one point, I think it was when the youngest blew a raspberry at the dinner he normally eats ravenously, “I LOVE IT” is his usual response to said meal, and dumped the entire plate on the floor that I thought.

That’s it.

I’m done.

But the vomiting was still to come.

I was not done yet.

I am glad the day is done and I had a good bike ride through the Wiggle and up into the park and over to 7th and Irving to catch up with friends and fellows and get out of myself for a little while.

Be of service and such.

“You’re single!”  My friend said, after I gave him a big hug.

I missed him last week, but it was Noir City and The Thin Man at the Castro was playing.

We caught up and it was good to acknowledge, that yes, it is true, I am indeed single.

And it feels like it again.

I’m close to saying I’m ready to date, I’m definitely entertaining the thought, although there is no one in mind, it’s just there.

I have no desire, however, to re-open my OkCupid account or to actually activate the Tinder account I had downloaded.

I am going to try it the old-fashioned way.

Let someone ask me out.

I’ll give that a couple of months and if it doesn’t appear to be happening I will actively start asking guys out again.

At the moment I feel that I have to be approached.

I am worth the ask.

“What are you doing this summer?” The mom casually, not really, asked as we headed to the school to pick up the oldest boy for swimming lessons.

Working as much as possible I thought, getting ready for graduate school, hopefully not having to look for another job.

It turns out that I was being felt out about the summer vacation plans for Sonoma.

Oh.

The house in Sonoma.

Pool.

13 acres.

Woods.

Creek.

Llama farm next door.

Llama farm.

Really.

Some where around Glen Ellen, about an hour outside of the city.

The family has taken a month before, but it sounds like they are planning on taking 10 days in June and 10 days in August.

They haven’t gotten the dates set up, they are finding out about the availability of the house.

Did I say pool?

“We would rent you a car so you could come up and go down for the weekend.” The mom explained.

I would work there, staying over night, I believe, I need to check my contract, but I believe I get an extra $50 per day for doing any over night travelling with them.

I would have my own room and bathroom and all my food would be taken care of.

It sounds scary and awesome all at the same time.

I also reiterated with the mom that I wanted to stay with them as long as they wanted and they do want, even when both the boys are in school, I feel that there will be plenty of work that can be done at the house.

Especially since I do so much of the marketing and cooking and general snack and food prep.

“What are you doing when he goes to pre-school,” the savvy pregnant mom at the park asked me.

“I’m heading to graduate school,” I told her, “though the likelihood is that I will be staying on and helping the family part-time.”

“Well, I am at the same school,” the mom said, “my oldest daughter is in the same grade as ________, just in the other preschool class.”

Oh.

Nice.

I like that.

“And I plan on contacting them, because should they not need you, I will.”  She smiled.

That was good to hear.

I’m not going to mention what school that is, but suffice to say, it’s not a public school.

It is good information to have and I know that I certainly have the references to continue working in whatever capacity I will be working in for the fall.

I suspect, again, though, that I will be staying with the current family.

Through the good times and the bad, vomit.

Because I like them and their dog, who always gives me kisses and wishes me a happy hello Monday when I come back from the weekend.

And the snuggle pie boys who yes, are boys and poop and pee and vomit and throw food and splash water out of the bathtub, and fart.

Oh.

My.

God.

The oldest today, after swimming class, was in the car seat and had taken off all shoes, socks, and tossed his whole back pack from school on the floor of the car with all the lunch fixings and containers tumbled about and while I was gathering it all up and grabbing his feisty feet to put them back in their socks, he farted to kill a cow.

I mean.

Holy Jesus on a flaming pogo stick.

It was like sticking my head in a fart oven.

He laughed so loud that he almost peed his pants.

He was the one who threw up all over tonight too.

I am laughing at this all now.

Although at the time I was almost over it.

Poor bunny, coughed so hard it triggered a gag reflex which brought up some phlegm, which grossed him out and then he hurled everywhere.

Everywhere.

Ugh.

I hollered out to the parents, one vomit covered boy, fresh from the bath, so at least he was only in the clean underpants I had just put on him, plus his younger, completely naked brother, who was running around playing 3, 2, 1 blast off with his Meow Meow (his stuffed kitty cat, who he informed me did NOT speak Spanish, when I greeted him with “hola gato.” “No hola!” He trumpeted at me.  “Bonjour mon chat,” I replied. “NO bongor!” he hollered kicking his feet out.  “Well, what language does Meow Meow speak?” I asked.  “Cat,” he said and if a two-year old could roll his eyes, he might have done so.  I mean, duh, nanny, get with the program.) running through the vomit barefoot, to come up and help.

Please dear God, help me now.

Thank goodness for extra hands when you need them.

I left soon after, the dad helping by cleaning up the various piles of puke.

The mom lining up a Pengu video.

I got the oldest one juice with a little bubbly water and some saltine crackers and wrapped up my day.

It was one hell of a day.

But I made it through and I am grateful for my job.

Even when the shit.

Er, vomit.

Hits the fan.

It cleans up fast.

 

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