Peace at Last
Day 1 of 2 in my "Adventures in Babysitting" weekend is almost at an end. Baths were taken and the last kid went to sleep about ten minutes ago. I am now watching something other than Power Rangers or Dora the Explorer, a hilarious show that I've not seen in a long time:
"The Soup"
Oh yeah!
I am completely knackered, and am thinking about if not going to bed soon, at least getting into bed and watching a movie or some kind of adult program. I've not babysat on a scale like this in quite awhile, and I have to say it's awesome practice for when I have kids of my own someday.
My friend L and her husband P left for their overnight trip to Chicago around 11, and I immediately determined that the beautiful day warrated a short journey to the park that is practically in their back yard (this was also part of my plan to systematically tire them down so they would go to bed early).
We played at the park until about lunchtime. The kids watched some of their shows, and then I talked them into going back to the park, this time on bikes. L has a bike with a kid cart attached to the back, so I plopped Georgia in there and we were off.
Sort of.
I admit it's been awhile since I've ridden a bicycle (not counting stationary ones at the gym, lol), and there was a contraption bolted to the back of it, but there were a couple times I almost rode that bike into a proverbial ditch. It was embarrassing, especially when Peter Owen -- who is six years old! -- was tooling along without a care in the world. I finally got my shit together and we made it to the park.
Georgia was climbing the jungle gym, and every so often would ask me for help, and I of course would help her. As she was climbing down, she kept saying to me, "I got it. I got it, Sisa, I got it!" (I still kept my hand against her back just in case she didn't got it.) She stepped off the last rung and had her feet on the ground, then stumbled forward and knocked her mouth against the metal, and started crying. I looked at her face and her bottom lip was bloody.
Dammit.
We rode back to the house and I put some ice on her lip. It's a little swollen, but not too bad. I know L and P won't be angry with me at all, it obviously was an accident, but I was mortified. You always would prefer for something like that to happen when mom and dad are around. Poor little peanut. :(
So we got back to the house, the kids fought, and I talked to a friend on the phone while the the kids played outside in the backyard. They have a patio door of their dining room that leads to the deck. The kids kept busting through the screens in their excitement to get outside and not paying attention, so my friend L got this unframed screen with magnets to keep it closed, so the kids can go in and out without ruining a screen door.
I was standing in the kitchen and looked toward the deck, when I saw a chipmunk sitting in the dining room.
That's right.
A chipmunk.
In the dining room.
I said to my friend, "there's a f***ig chipmunk in the house!" I started to walk toward it (what the hell I thought I would do, I don't know); it must have come in through the screen with no frame (as opposed to the horse with no name). Thankfully it ran back outside before I could get there.
I closed the glass patio door and only opened it to let the kids back in the house for dinner.
The evening brought Chinese food, more fighting, baths, Dora the Explorer and Power Rangers, and then the blessed sounds of children sleeping. :)
My friends won't be getting home until arouond 6:30 tomorrow night. I forgot to bring my laundry, so I'm going to have to run to a laundromat late tomorrow to do some laundry so I have clothes to wear to work on Monday. Or maybe I can talk Roy into letting me come over to his house again. After all, tomorrow night is the beginning of the gay man's sporting season: Awards season and the Emmys. :p