2004-07-10 @ 12:19 a.m.
|Well, Iím $150 richer, but my heart took a direct hit today when I quit my nanny job. I didnít really think it would affect me as much as it did, but as soon as I pulled out of the driveway I just cried and cried. I think a small part of it was relief to be out of a place that had stirred up so much fear and anxiety everytime Sir G. was on the premises.
Dammit. I knew it from the start. I didnít like him the first day I had met him at ďAíís office. He seemed so full of himself, never talking about the kids or asking about his future nanny. But it was suggested to me, that perhaps his behavior was due to the fact that he was still grieving his wife. She HAD just passed away a mere two and a half months ago. Also my mom thought I was trying to give the guy a bad rap because I wanted things to go badly so I could run to Married Guy when wifie left for another continent.
And then in his subsequent phone calls, he would only talk about himself or his possessions or go off on some oddball subject, and never once talk about his kids. Did he have any? Oh yes, he was hiring me as a nanny. Thatís right.
I liked him less and less with each call, but I sort of suddenly felt obligated. Wanted to please ďAĒ of course. Always want to please the shrink. Also wanted to prove that I could do something besides look ravishing.
And what else? Ah yes...I wanted to see if I could be a mommy. Sure...Sure I can be a mommy. No prob. I spent 10 minutes with Married Guyís kids and they absolutely LOOOOOVE ME. Oh wait, that was only ten minutes and I didnít have to yell at anyone or tell the older brother to unlock his legs from around his younger brotherís neck so he can breathe. Damn, this mommy thing was a little harder than I thought. Kids are bratty. And boy are they annoying. And they do so many stupid things like dump too much soup into bowls and microwave it and spill it all over the place and make a big fucking mess, but then, dammit, they look so fucking cute when theyíre petting the cat out on the front porch, and showing off on their bike for you.
Oy vey. Iím so confused. Was I good mommy this week? Not sure really. I think if I was grading myself, in the discipline department, like sounding commanding and making kids quake in terror, I would probably only got about a C-. They really had to push me to my brink before I would get all Joan Crawford on them. Ok, I didnít bonk them on the head with Bon Ami cleanser or anything, but it was only today that I realized that I had taken video game privileges away yesterday and that they were actually abiding by them. Whee! Iím fierce.
So this morning when we were all sitting there watching tattooed hookers beating each other up on The Jerry Springer Show, I realized that this wasnít so nifty...you know, the girl-on-girl violence, so I let them switch from Jerry Springer to a guy karate chopping and attempting to decapitate people on the street video game. A fair trade, I think.
In the Iím Your Friend Department, I think I probably scored a solid B+. I think I only missed out on an A+ because I probably annoyed the hell out of them by asking them HOW YA DOING? too many times in a 24 hour period. Of course living with Ego-Dad, I probably was just making up for a serious deficit by 1000%.
Of course, I tried to get to know each kid individually. It was a little difficult with all the sleep over buddies the first couple of day, but in the last two it got easier.
The older boy will be a heartbreaker when he gets older. A real boyís boy. Very mechanically inclined. He was constantly rearranging different sized tires and training wheels on bikes and scooters and then taking death defying rides down a steep hill out front with no brakes.
(Witty looking on in horror, but trusting he does this everyday).
He was my little boyfriend though. He was constantly showing off his bike riding skills to me. Riding like a maniac towards the front porch and then screeching to a halt 1.2 millimeters from imminent death in a cloud of dust. And then flashing this killer shy grin.
So today, I managed to ride around the rocky driveway on one of the funky bikes he had created out of spare parts. I was amazed I didnít fall on my ass, since I havenít ridden a bike since 1980. But I rode around and he was sitting on the porch kind of grinning at the silly Witty. And then suddenly I raced towards the porch, slammed on the brakes, and kind of veered sideways like he always did and made a loud screeching noise and said, ďIts Super ****!ďHe smiled broadly. (heís too cool to laugh out loud).
The younger son was a little harder to crack. He was pretty quiet and didnít really connect with me at all, until today. We sat out on the porch with their three cats. Thatís one thing about both boys. They really lavished love on their cats. I think because its lacking in their lives....And cats wonít reject you.
So I was sitting with the younger one. We were both petting the cats. And we finally chatted a little bit, mainly about the history of the cats. It wasnít an earthshaking conversation, but I felt like it was a breakthrough, because we made eye contact. It was nice.
But I felt guilty most of the day because I knew I would be leaving soon....as in forever. I had been packing my car on and off all day. The suitcase. Another bag. My computer equipment. Both boys asked if I was leaving. I said yes, but they only thought for the weekend.
Finally around six, the asshole came home. My stomach was so knotted up. I had been somewhat rehearsing what I wanted to say to him about leaving. Last night he had done something else I had not been real happy with. I had been in my bedroom laying on my bed watching ďMy Fair LadyĒ. I had almost always locked my door since I been there...probably about 98% of the time. But last night I had inadvertently forgotten to lock it. So I was on the bed curled up with a pillow and my cat, and Sir G says my name and knocks once and then opens the fucking door before I even have a chance to say yeah or nay. Ya donít OPEN the door AS youíre knocking, ya fuckiní perv.
So what was so pressing at 11 p.m. at night? He wanted to show me one of his Match.com
So he showed me her picture. She was mostly hair (what is this the 1980ís?). All I can say is, good luck to ya honey. Hope you like security cameras and spaghetti-Oís.
Oh, and Sir G did have some kind words for ďAĒ. Ya there ďAĒ? He said, well at least ďAĒ has done ONE GOOD THING FOR ME. And I was standing there thinking....ummm....bring Wittykitty to care and give some much needed love and attention to your sons? Oh fuck that Witty, Sir G was just thrilled to have all those Match.Com chicks vying for his penis.
So Sir G came in about 6, as I said, looking oh so ready for his date tonight. But I had some news for him. First of all I was ready to collect my check for services rendered. You know caring for your kids. You know...YOUR KIDS....the tax deductions(!!!!!!). Yeah, those.
So he went and wrote me a check. By then my stomach was incredibly knotted and my heart was beating really fast. He handed me the check. I then decided to just say it really fast. I told him I wouldnít be coming back. I told him I really enjoyed being with the kids, and it had nothing to do with them, but that being out there made me feel really isolated and depressed and I didnít really think I could handle that plus a third child (when the daughter returns). The only thing he really said was, ďWell, it is isolated here.Ē
I then carried my cat out in her carrier and pulled away. And I really, really cried. Thus ending my career as a nanny.
Will I ever get to be a mom? I donít really know. Would I make a good mom? I definitely think the potential is there....
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty