1999-12-12 01:05:36
Babysitting and shopping
First a recap on the babysitting experience last night. What fun it was. Little Sam is the sweetest child. He flirts, he cuddles, he makes eyes and plays patty-cake. Sweet, sweet, sweet. I didn't tell his mother this but when I offered to babysit I hadn't really thought through what all babysitting involved. For instance, I hadn't thought about having to change diapers. Now, I'm not one of those "never touch the stuff" people, I can change a diaper but it has been a long long time since I've done it. I hope I knew what I was doing. I have a fear that the baby woke up this morning and she changed his diaper and found errant poopie among his baby folds. I tried to get him cleaned up, honest! I had forgotten how tiny babies little bodies are. I've only been around Sam fully clothed this last year, so changing his diaper I saw how tiny his little waist is and those hips are so small! He's over a year old so he is "big boy" compared to a few months ago but he still is a baby, there's no doubt. He was as sweet as an angel and happily waved to Mom and Dad as they left (okay, I used that figuratively, he doesn't wave yet). He played happily for a while and then when I thought he was ready to dump the dog's water on the kitchen floor I said, "Sam, no." (yes, I've been around dogs more than children for too long). He turned and burst into tears and turned all red and ran for the front door. He screamed and cried and reached with all his might for the doorknob. Poor thing was unconsolable. I was okay to be around as long as I didn't tell him no, then he wanted Mom and Dad to make it all right.
I wrote that episode to my mother and sister and got e-mails back from them both saying I should know better. I should have just let him dump the water if that was what he wanted to do, what would it have hurt?
On to today. Rainy dark day. Actually made it feel slightly more like Christmas. Talked to a clerk at Barnes and Noble that is from Wyoming and missing snow so I guess I shouldn't complain that I'm missing my "50 degree Christmas" in Dallas. "I'm dreaming of a 50 degree Christmas...just like the ones I used to know in Dallas."
We went to San Marcos and did some shopping and I did a little more tonight. Then I got online, thinking I was too late to shop online but went ahead and got some toys and books that I hope get here muy pronto. I know Amazon is as fast as lightning, I hope KB Toys is the same and I hope the mode of transport doesn't get lost in the Austin Bermuda Triangle.
I needed to buy a gift for my office Christmas party tomorrow night. I ventured into the first head shop I've been into in many years. What an experience! Fun, fun, fun. I recommend you try it if you, too, don't frequent the head shops. I may go back. Lots of cool indoor gardening supplies (if you know what I mean) and I could always use some gro-lights to keep my houseplants alive. And I'm talking dieffenbachia, draecaena, cactus and sanseveria. I didn't buy paraphanalia for the party, although I heard that was a big hit with everyone last year. I figured that would be a bigger item to certain members of our staff than others so I got something that the women of the staff would be more likely to trade for and fight over--a vibrator. I had to bite my tongue to just buy it and get out and not try to explain to each clerk "this is a GAG gift, really!" I'd like to get batteries for it too but I can't really figure out what size it uses. It's not like you can take it into the Wal-Mart with you and see what fits. The party is tomorrow night. I'll give you a full report when I sober up.
I have got to do something at work to change my image. Immediately upon starting at this job I saw that there was a definite division between the single folks and the married folks. There is also a deep division between the young ones and the old ones. Unfortunately, I fall into the "uncool" category on both counts. Old and married. It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't think I was so straightlaced. I mean, yes, I'm conservative, yes, my days of binge-drinking and pot-smoking are way behind me, but these kids have apologized to me when they tell a dirty joke or cuss. I guess my referring to them as "kids" doesn't help my image, does it? I started in radio when some of them were still not potty-trained. I was the youngest person at most of the radio stations I ever worked for. Even at ABC there were really really old people working there (70s---which, believe me, is really really old for a disc jockey) so I didn't feel "old." Now, I may have to drink 24 shots of tequila or something to "prove" my youth. (ha, that is a big joke, I couldn't do 24 shots of Coca-cola without having a bathroom break and a nap)
I have helped my image some by going with the group to hear one of our fellow jocks play in the band the DeFrockers. They are wild and alternative and punk. I can't say that I LIKE them but they are a lot of fun to see. Also, there is one member of this young clique, with purple hair and a pierced eyebrow, that comes from my hometown and thinks I'm cool because I used to be on the radio (when he was 11) with his favorite newsman.
I want to age gracefully. I've never been one to wear bare midriffs and overdo the makeup. But, I also don't want to be in orthopedic shoes and carrying a handbag at 40. Dammit, I'm already carrying the handbag.
Well, as I look across the desk covered in newspapers, ripped envelopes and bills, calendars and Christmas cards, into the living room with sacks of plunder from the outlet malls and newspapers strewn from one end to the other, it doesn't appear as if the house has miraculously cleaned itself while I was writing. I bet those dishes are still in the sink too.