oh. really?

so. today has been a bit frustrating, to say the least. i arose at the ripe time of 6 am to get right to it. i wanted to drink coffee and eat something before i hit the road at 7, and i need an hour for my thyroid medicine to absorb into my system before i can eat, so i got up, took it, and made coffee.
i got back in bed for a bit and cuddled the boyfriend, well, because he's cute.

then i came downstairs, made coffee, and checked email. macy woke up at 6:30 and i heard her go in the boyfriend's room and look for me. she came downstairs and looked for me and came and sat with me. she was in a snotty mood though, so that wasn't much fun. i hate it when she's like that. she was all about wanting to go outside and get a bug to bring inside to put in a spider web that she found. i told her to ask her dad first as i didn't think he'd appreciate a bug being brought into the house. she flipped out and got super snotty with me. i told her i didn't appreciate that, especially so early in the morning, before my coffee. she shouted FINE. i was like - look, knock it off. i'm not saying no, i'm simply saying ask your dad. she rolled her eyes. i said, "that's the equivalent of saying snotty words."

she stormed off. i thought perhaps she was hungry. so i said, "macy, are you hungry and would you like some breakfast?" yes. "can i make it for you?" no. "do you want to wait for your dad to make it for you?" no. "are you going to make it for yourself?" no. ok. forget it. i had a full day of snotty kids ahead of me that i was going to actually get paid to watch, i wasn't going to stand there letting her be rude to me for free, so i turned and walked away as the coffee was beeping.

i passed the boyfriend on the stairs as i was heading back up to dress and said, "careful..macy's got a stick up her ass this morning." he said, "uh-oh, what did she do." i said, "oh, she's just super snotty, and i'm not in the mood for it." i kissed him, and went in the room to get dressed.

when i came out, macy was on the toilet, door open, playing a video game. "hi" she said. "hi" i said back, and went in to the sink beside her to brush my teeth. "i'm not waiting for her to finish" i thought, i'm just going to do what i need to do and get outta here before i have to deal with her any further. "i like your skirt," she said. "thanks," i said, in between toothpaste spits. "can you turn away so i can wipe please?" she asked.

i left the bathroom, still brushing. she flushed and washed her hands, and i came in to finish brushing. macy was now in her room, playing her video game. i wondered if her father had sent her upstairs. my guess was yes, usually she'd be downstairs watching tv at that time...she musta been snotty to him too. shrug. i washed my face, applied eye cream and headed downstairs.

the boyfriend made me toast and wrapped it in a paper towel so i could take it to go, and filled up my to go mug with coffee, kissed me good-bye and we talked of a later love rendevous tonight. hopefully neither of us are too tired, as he and macy are leaving for a family vacation on a jet plane tomorrow of his deceased wife's side of the family, and i won't see him for 5 days, our longest separation to date. sigh.

as a side bar, i'm quasi looking forward to some time to myself. not to being away from him, but to some time to myself, just to regroup. our love affair has been fast and furious, and i need to organize. my apartment, which i've all but moved out of, is a disaster. i don't officially live with he and macy, but spend most nights during the week there lately, and probably will this summer, and all weekends. i go to my place to visit my cats. as i was going there today, i thought, "it's like i'm my own cat sitter." ridiculous.

anyway. on to my day. i am still finishing up this regular weekly gig for mom's A and B that i referenced in a previous post, and today was the day to do it. i arrived to my position 20 minutes early, and spent some time catching up on emails on my "smart phone" in the car. i went in at the appointed time, and found out that family B wasn't coming. fine. i've already resigned myself to the fact that for the next couple of weeks i may not make the money once promised to me, and i don't care anymore - i'm finishing up my duties with them and high tailing it out of there.

today though, reached a new low.

normally at this position, i have four children ages 4 and under (one 4 year old, two 2 year olds, and one 6 month old). the 4 year old is potty trained, the others are all in diapers.

i'm there in a four hour shift. we do a variety of activities while i'm there. the home i sit in is a four story town home (lots of fours in this story - four stories, four children, four hours, a four year old child...), with three different levels to play on, lots of staircases to go up and down. there is an outside space to play in, also on three levels, with three metal staircases to climb. lots of places to potentially fall, lots of diapers to change, lots of little toy pieces to keep out of little mouths, lots of personalities to balance.

i tell you all of this simply to set the stage: i'm a hands on sitter. i don't sit on the couch and watch tv, i interact. if the child is going up the stairs, i follow the child to make sure he or she doesn't fall. i can tell you every the children touched while i was there so if there is a missing piece, i know whether or not they swallowed it. if they are eating, i am watching every bite so there is no choking. children don't sit in a wet diaper on my watch.

again. four children, three of them in diapers on this shift.

so, today during snack time, the four-year old says to me, "lucy, my mommy said that i'm supposed to tell you that you're supposed to start washing the dishes when you're here. mommy says that she's tired of coming home after you've been here and there is a big mess. mommy says lucy is messy and that she wants you to start cleaning up better. mommy says you always make a big mess." oh. really.

um. well. 4 year old kid. lemme tell you a couple o'things. 1) your mom is on crack. that's right. crack cocaine. 2) i wash the dishes every fucking week i'm here, all of the dishes that we use that is. 3) perhaps your mom doesn't like coming home to see all of the breakfast dishes that she has left piled up on the sink. yeah, that's right, that sucks. dirty dishes are a pain in the ass, kiddo, but somebody's gotta clean them, and if she'd like me to do it, then perhaps she should say, "oh lucy, by the way, could you please add cleaning my kitchen to your duties IF YOU HAVE ANY TIME WHILE YOU ARE MAKING SURE THAT FOUR CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 4 DON'T KILL THEMSELVES OR EACH OTHER OR CHOKE TO DEATH? thanks. 4) i have, on occasion when there has been opportunity and everybody has been safe, cleaned your mother's kitchen for her. she didn't thank me, nor offer to reimburse me at all, so dear 4-year old child, where is the motivation for me to do it again? 5) if your mother would like a maid, she should hire one. 6) and this is the most important, if your crack-head mother would like to tell me something, she should tell me herself, not tell you.

seriously. what is wrong with people? actually, i'm sure how it happened is that she probably said it outloud once or something, and this child is repeating what she heard. at least that's how i hope it happened. the thing is, this kid told me no less than 5 times to "wash the dishes." i finally said, "i need for you to understand two things - are you listening, because they are REALLY important. are you listening? 1) i'm in charge. you don't ever tell me what to do, so don't tell me again. got it? say ok so i know you understand. 2) i already washed the dishes, and i have every single time i come here, so nobody ever needs to tell me that ever again. you can tell anybody you need to, ok?" ok she said.

and i'm sure she did. she tells her mom EVERYTHING. she's like a verbal video recorder.

i don't care. the thing is, like i said, her mom is nice, at least i'd like to believe she is.

maybe it's me. maybe i'm just over this. i just feel taken advantage of a bit, and when that happens, i'm done.

d.o.n.e. done.