Monday, April 3, 2017

The Vagina Diaries #99977768


Someone in our local educational system thought up of a brilliant way to educate teenagers in health class by means of having a baby placed in our home. It came to us Friday night unexpectedly. Originally, it was scheduled to arrive on Easter weekend and I said, NO WAY. I didn't want my Bug to skip Easter because I knew she would be a freak about this thing.



She told me in very detailed verbage explosion with a motherly attitude that she was not to be bothered because she was taking care of this baby and did not want to fail class. She asked if "grandma" would be willing to babysit over the weekend. This "grandma" was conveniently inconvenient and cancelled all grandmother appearances much to Bug's surprise. She could not possibly imagine that I was not a willing participant. I told her she should have to suffer as a single mother just as I had and to suck it up. Yes, it is true. I have no sympathy. So begins the lesson. Or so I thought.

The first night was hell as she did not receive much sleep with the baby waking up every 30 minutes. Thank you, teacher! This was good. I didn't hear a thing and slept like a baby in my room. The next day I departed. I left for an overnight trip in late afternoon on Saturday to return on Sunday. I figured that way there would be no temptation or begging of grandmotherly duties.

I did check in via Facetime. She was very tired and had failed in most house duties, while shutting herself in her room to care for her near-real infant. Apparently, she was very proud of her bags under her eyes. As you can see from our Facetime chat, I had so much sympathy and nearly cried over the loss of sleep.

Dear Sleep, 
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art NOT with me;


I figured all this was real life problems. No sense sugar coating it.


I know. I won't be getting any Mother of the Year awards. It's OK. I hope I have created a good kid as a result of my unorthodox motherhood ways.

I expect some day paybacks will be hell with a real live grandkid, but I hope that is many years from now. In the meantime, torture is in play and seemed to result in some oopsies around the house.

For instance, I came home to a pile of dishes and a burnt pan. The dog got locked in the laundry room and ate the door. Muddy paw prints were tracked all over the house and on the furniture. It was a disaster. What happened? Grr. I got mad but I moved on because she was asleep and I could not address it just then. That was in her favor.

A load of laundry was left in the washer to gather mold or dust. I'm not sure which because it was never turned on. Oh, that's right. We hid all the detergent because she has a tendency to wash two shirts in a load which is wasteful.

She also takes 45 minute showers. We turned the hot water off when she was in the shower in the process. My water bill last month was $124.00. Me thinks she doesn't get it. So I had to fight hot water with cold.

But my plans may have backfired as I now have to do the dishes and laundry myself because I can't stand it. Wait. I shall tell the new fake mother that the chores are ready for her at home and she can do them first thing when she gets out of track practice.



Tonight I will be sanding the door down in an effort to save it rather than by a new one.

Was I mad?

Oh yeah. I was mad as hell.

But instead of coming publicly unglued, I retreated to the barn and my bedroom so I would not make an ass of myself as a mother in a rage of anger.

Today, I have deflated my initial reaction to a lesson learned to myself.

Will I do this all over again? You betcha.