The Night Before the Day I May or May Not Be Alone and Lonely
Well, now we know the probable cause of Baby Dog’s crankiness on Wednesday. The daycare had warned that there was a cold being bounced around from kid to kid, and Baby Dog’s nose had been quite runny. This morning she woke up at five, stuffed up, angry, and crying inconsolably. Mama Dog was able to get her settled enough that we could lightly doze until six, but then the little girl had another crying fit. It was very similar to what had happened at naptime on Wednesday; she was uncomfortable and crying, but she really wasn’t ready to wake up. She settled back down while her parents were breakfasting, and slept in ‘til almost 7:30. The extra sleep seemed to do the trick. She was her normal happy self when she got up, and though she had seemed warm earlier, she wasn’t running a temperature.
That is, until the daycare called me at 3 in the morning to say she was almost up to 103 and we should come pick her up. I called Mama Dog and she did just that, leaving work early for a sick kid for the very first time.
All this is on the eve of what’s supposed to be Mama and Baby’s first trip out of town without me, flying down to Saint Babs for one last look at the ancestral home before Halmonie sells it. I’ve been building up a great deal of trepidation as the day approaches. I haven’t spent a night apart from Baby Dog since she was born, and I haven’t spent a night apart from Mama Dog since she went to Chicago to be on Okra. On the one hand, I didn’t know what I’d do with my girls out of town. On the other hand, I knew exactly what I’d do with my girls out of town: watch a bunch of shitty TV, get some writing done, stay up late playing poker, sleep in as late as I want in the morning, and for two solid days do absolutely nothing that I didn’t feel like doing at that moment. I might even pee in the kitchen sink, who knows! The dread of being apart from my nearest and dearest ones and the thrilling thought of having no real responsibilities for the first time in…jesus, what is it, forever?...was pretty equally balanced.
Now Mama Dog thinks she’s caught Baby Dog’s cold, so the trip may be scuttled and I won’t have to deal with either an excess of loneliness or an excess of freedom. We’ll find out which way the wind’s blowing in the morning.
That is, until the daycare called me at 3 in the morning to say she was almost up to 103 and we should come pick her up. I called Mama Dog and she did just that, leaving work early for a sick kid for the very first time.
All this is on the eve of what’s supposed to be Mama and Baby’s first trip out of town without me, flying down to Saint Babs for one last look at the ancestral home before Halmonie sells it. I’ve been building up a great deal of trepidation as the day approaches. I haven’t spent a night apart from Baby Dog since she was born, and I haven’t spent a night apart from Mama Dog since she went to Chicago to be on Okra. On the one hand, I didn’t know what I’d do with my girls out of town. On the other hand, I knew exactly what I’d do with my girls out of town: watch a bunch of shitty TV, get some writing done, stay up late playing poker, sleep in as late as I want in the morning, and for two solid days do absolutely nothing that I didn’t feel like doing at that moment. I might even pee in the kitchen sink, who knows! The dread of being apart from my nearest and dearest ones and the thrilling thought of having no real responsibilities for the first time in…jesus, what is it, forever?...was pretty equally balanced.
Now Mama Dog thinks she’s caught Baby Dog’s cold, so the trip may be scuttled and I won’t have to deal with either an excess of loneliness or an excess of freedom. We’ll find out which way the wind’s blowing in the morning.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 9:22 PM
1 Comments:
You'll have to weigh the lesser of two evils - home alone or spending the weekend with two cranky women.
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