I need to rephrase my title. I hate taking care of other people’s children. I love other people’s children when all I have to do is look at them and tell everyone how cute they are.
Beyond that – I’m donezo. NO emotions. There are 4 kids on this Earth I love. Mine and Jenny’s. I just don’t have the emotional capacity to let anyone else in. Plus – kids are hard work.
I suck at being a mom to my own flesh and blood. Why anyone else on Earth would trust me with their offspring still baffles me. I mean let’s face it - my idea of giving my kids good supper options is: “Do you want Cool Ranch Doritoes or Regular Doritoes?” I don’t care if they wear pajamas outside of the house and in public and my favorite activity with them is watching the Disney Channel.
I’m the freaking mother of the year – for real.
Once in a while, I gather some compassion and feeling – and agree to help the neighbor lady out with her kids. I did just this on Saturday night.
For about 2 hours, I swear my eyeballs were stuck in the permanent “eye roll” position. I’ve never rolled my eyes so much at people less than 7 years old in all my life.
Good God – but those two little girls are annoying. They want food. And water.
It’s ridiculous, I tell you.
The worst part? The unbearable part? About 12am shit hits the fan. Well, more accurately – pee almost hits the floor.
Seriously – this kid is lucky to still be alive. To make matters worse as this is all going on, Rambo was at a turkey banquet spending ridiculous amounts of money on things like guns and grills and wrenches because he’s a sucker….while I’m dealing with heathens that are not my own flesh and blood.
Anyway – it’s 12am - I hear whimpering. I spring up in bed and think – “hmm…I must be dreaming. My children do not make noises in the night
More whimpering. Louder.
“Oh shit – that’s right. I have extra children tonight. F*ck a duck. Maybe if I just sit here – she’ll go back to sleep.”
Now she’s all out crying.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I’m going to have to hurt someone.”
I get in my daughter’s room where the two neighbor kids are sleeping. Everyone is sleeping except the 7 year old. She is crying. She is beginning to scream “MOMMY”.
She gets up and walks around and it’s pretty obvious she has no idea where she is. I tell her it’s alright and she should go back to sleep and she walks into the bathroom.
I say, “Do you have to go potty?”
She says yes.
AND PROCEEDS TO START TAKING HER UNDERWEAR OFF.
AND SQUATS like she’s going to pee.
While she’s crying. NOT by the toilet.
Someone else’s kid is going to pee in my house – on my floor – while she’s crying at midnight!
OH hell to the no.
I pick her up by the armpits and I kid you not – she is dead weight. Mostly because she’s pretty much still sleeping. I can barely get her on the toilet but I do. I get her on the edge.
She freaks out like I just placed her on the edge of a cliff and am about to push her off.
Dear God. Help me.
I hand her toilet paper. All the while I’m thinking, “if this kid doesn’t wake up enough to wipe herself – I’m going to let her sleep on this toilet until morning.”
She wipes. Thank God.
And proceeds to waddle out of the bathroom with her underwear around her ankles. Cripes. I help her with that issue and put her back in bed. Where she continues to scream for her mother.
At this point my 11 year old wakes up and says, “MY GOD MOM – what is going on? Make her stop or send her home!”
Apparently she hates other people’s kids too. (We value sleep in this house in case you haven’t gathered that.)
I grab my cell phone so I can call her mother. I see Rambo sent me a text saying, “I just won a gun!!!”
I text back and say – “Hurry up and bring it home. I need to use it.”
I call the girl’s mom and say, “Um yah – you’re gonna need to come get your kid. She wants you and is scared.”
The mom comes an hour later.
And of course – we go in to the bedroom to get her kid and it takes us 10 FULL MINUTES to get her to wake the f*ck up.
I cannot deal. What the hell happened to being deathly scared? You're so scared you fell back asleep???? I almost pinched her “accidentally” just to wake her up.
Rambo came home in between all this. I stuck the second comatose neighbor kid into his arms and told him to walk her home. I told him to take his new gun with him or someone could get shot.
I’ve never been drunk before in my life but right at this moment – I wanted vodka. Mixed with ambien.
I sat down and thanked God right then and there that my tubes are tied. Those kids are lucky they escaped my clutches alive.
Apparently I didn’t do or say anything too scary. By 8-f*cking-am – they were back. Banging on the door yelling, “Can we come play?”
No assholes. Thanks to you I just got into bed.
Come back in a few hours. We’ll try out Rambo’s new gun. It’ll be way fun.
This is why moms in the wild eat their young. And why I’m going to be Mother of the Year.
Compassion just oozes out of me.
So if we ever meet in real life - never ask me to watch your kids. I cannot guarantee you'll ever see them again.