Monday, August 22, 2011

We Didn't Forget Her, We Just Miscounted

Today marked an important milestone in DHs and my parenting career together.

It's difficult to convey in English, but the full translation is something along the lines of "my ex-husband bailed at the last minute on his summer plans with Medium Fry which left us in the lurch because DH started back at work today after his holidays and Small Fry's regular sitter is away on holidays and his interim sitter only had room for one child and my desk isn't really large enough to conceal an entire 11-year-old underneath it for the day..."

... or, "we left the kid at home alone today" for short.

Now, Medium Fry has been doing the latch key thing for ages already, but an hour here and there is significantly different than a whoooooole day home alone. And while she's quite an exceptional child, it's still a well-known scientifish fact that you can't grow pubic hairs and brain cells at the same time, so her decision-making skills of late frequently leave something to be desired.

Just to be safe, we made some ground rules:

- Keep the doors locked.
- Don't answer the phone.
- No fires, serious accidents, or kissing boys.
- If you are frightened, injured, or considering kissing boys, call me.
- If you are TERRIFIED, MORTALLY WOUNDED, or ON FIRE, call 9-1-1.
- If you are itchy, gassy, hungry, stinky, thirsty, whiny or bored, figure things out for yourself.

Truthfully, I felt pretty good about the whole situation. She's old enough to take a babysitting course and care for other children, so surely she's capable of hanging out by herself for a few hours. But just to quell that tiny niggling anxiety inside me, I decided to ask around the office this morning to suss out what other local parents of similarly-aged children are doing.

Turns out the first few people I talked to haven't actually let their children out of the womb yet, let alone left them home alone for a day. One fellow implied that he loves his children more than I love mine; another flat-out stated as much.

Good grief, Charlie Brown.

Today's Special: Raging Inferno of Self-Doubt and Apprehension, with a generous side order of Unsavoury Public Opinion, tossed in our own house-made Trepidation sauce.

I ordered a double C&C (caffeine and cortisol) to wash it down.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

I Got a New Girl Now

The first time I heard her dulcet voice I was mesmerized. Sultry, sexy... and so informative. Now this, I thought, was a sound I could get used to hearing every morning, if you know what I mean.

It was so sweet the way she would gently remind me which station was coming up next - she knows how absent-minded I can be in the mornings! - and I really admired her patience with those buffoons who always seem to be blocking doors with their backpacks somehow. If not for her, I just didn't know how the world would run on time! What a voice. What a gal.

*sigh* Those were the days.

Then, I don't know. Things just started to... to change between us. I mean, why would someone consistently go out of their way to wake everyone up every five seconds to let you know that you were at one station, then departing the station you were just at, then heading to the next station, then arriving at that station she had just said you were heading to, for every goddamn station down the entire line? Hey, guess what? It's not like they change up the order or anything - I think we got it after the first thousand times or so. Let a person catch some z's in the mornings, will ya? It's just so damned passive aggressive.

Oh yeah, and that bullshit about "this train is trying to depart", could you get any more self-righteous? Like, who died and made her the blocking-the-door police? Take two seconds too long and she's bawling out people on crutches, little old blue-hairs, anyone, totally indiscriminate - surely some people deserve an extra moment to maneuver their wheelchairs or whatever in the doors, don't you think?

And then with the nagging! Jeez, you forget your personal belongings and newspapers when leaving the train once - once! - and man you are in for a lifetime of punishment. Might as well slit your own throat now and put yourself out of your misery because that bitch just won't let it go. I can hardly think with her constantly yapping at me in that grating, whinging frigging voice. Why can't she just shut up and leave me alone for five minutes? I swear, if I hear one single more snotty little "reminder" out of her mouth I may completely lose my mind.

I've asked her to treat me right, but this has been going on for months and she seems completely unwilling to change. I don't want to be stuck in this totally negative, one-sided relationship. I didn't even buy a transit pass this month, just paying cash when I absolutely can't avoid seeing her.

My friends are trying to hook me up with this really sweet gal, quiet and nice, a little 2010 Hyundai. I think it could totally work out between us, but I gotta admit it might be a little out of my price range to take her out every day...