Oh all the poor, sweet, sick little monkeys.
I had a long nanny day.
Both my little charges were sick.
It was a day of snuggles and naps and a lot of videos.
I had to constantly be holding the baby, he just wouldn’t have it any other way.
At one point I had him down for a nap in his stroller and he kept waking up, feverish and upset, I took him out, brought him to his favorite little play area and sat on the floor with him.
Floor time is super important, just getting on the same level as a child, being there, he’s so much happier, even if I’m not super interactive, with me just being there, down on the floor with him.
I had a bunch of his favorite little snacks and got out his favorite toys and just sat in the sun with him and he ate a tiny snack and played a little bit, then he just turned and crawled up into my lap and lay his warm little head on my chest and hugged me.
I cuddled him up and hummed a little tune and the next thing I knew, he was sound asleep on me.
It was super sweet.
I mean.
I was sort of trapped, but it was a good kind of trapped.
I probably sat on the floor in the corner of the room for about an hour.
Fortunately it was in a sunny patch and there was a cozy braided rug underneath me to sit on and a wall to lean against.
I was happy to be holding him and be in the sun.
Especially considering how cold it’s been.
I just got in from my Wednesday night commitment and the walk back was hella brisk.
It is cold out there baby.
I could use a warm snuggle.
Or a hundred.
Or a thousand.
I could use a lot of warm snuggles.
Just saying.
I snuggled a lot with my little lady charge too.
We watched lots of Curious George videos and I made her homemade chicken soup with alphabet pasta.
I roll like that.
I peeled her apples to nibble on and made cups of tea and made sure she stayed hydrated and when she was sleepy I rubbed her back and petted her hair, tucking the long strands behind her small, sweet shell of an ear.
She fell asleep underneath my hand and it was such a tender moment.
I am very grateful for it, for the job, even when I was pretty wiped out by the end of the day.
The little lady bug has been sick all week and the baby has gotten it and by the end of the day, even though I’m not sick, I was pretty tired out from it.
It takes a lot of a person to constantly nurture and in one way or another I do a lot of care taking.
That is what my job is and what my internship is.
My chiropractor told me after listening to me talk about what I do, that she really wanted to help me because people in the helping careers don’t get taken care of well enough and it was obvious that I helped a lot of people.
There was a woman tonight who asked me how I do it and honestly, I’m not sure.
I pray a lot.
I try to get eight hours of sleep.
Which like never happens.
I manage six to seven most nights.
I eat well, that helps.
I try to get some fun in my life now and again.
I turn up the heat when I get home from work to take the chill out of the air in m studio, I try to keep it clean and pretty, I like to surround myself with beautiful things.
Not necessarily expensive things, but things that reflect who I am and where I have been, my little travels and journeys.
Fuck.
I forgot to send myself a postcard from D.C.
I always send a postcard!
Oops
Oh well.
I have so many amazing memories, I am sure they will suffice.
Plus I have the ticket from the Phillips House Museum, a notebook I bought at Kramer Books and Cafe off Dupont Circle and a book that I got there as well.
I picked up The Princess Bride.
My friend had never read it or even seen the movie and I got so into telling the story of it one afternoon that when I was at the bookstore looking for a souvenir notebook, I had to pick it up.
I have not owned a copy of it in sometime.
I remember well the first time I had read the book.
It amazed me.
It was such a powerful love story for me to read.
I must have been seventeen when I read it.
I had seen the movie in the theater and didn’t even know that there was a book.
A friend’s mother mentioned it in passing and then when she heard I hadn’t read the book, she loaned it to me.
I ate that book.
I read it so fast.
I was so enthralled.
I remember being in a romantic relationship, my first and only long-term relationship, and our first Valentine’s Day I gave him a copy of the book.
I was so excited.
It meant so much to me, that book.
He never read it
I used to fantasize that one day I would read it out loud to the love of my life while stroking his hair while his head rested in my lap.
I made a lot of romantic gestures in that long-term relationship that were never returned and I suppose at some point though I realized that it was going nowhere I would still try.
Eternal optimist I suppose.
The story still means a lot to me.
Stories do.
I like to tell them.
I like to write them.
I like to believe that narrative has the power to heal.
That the love shines through the words and that whenever I am in doubt I can return to the thread of the story, know the truth of it, the strength of it and lean in there.
Old fashioned romantic.
That’s me.
Wishing you, now and always.
Happily ever after.
Always that.
Always.
Auntiebubba 