A friend had an appointment and asked me to sit for her sweet 6mn old. Hey, could I say yes fast enough? (Love cuddling babies) It started out quite fine; we played for a bit, then she snuggled down in my arms and went to sleep. After a while I managed to get her in the crib without waking up again, and I went downstairs where a stack of unanswered letters awaited. "Really" I wrote near the end of the letter "How many jobs can I get that pay me to write letters and ignore my housework?"
Just as I'm writing these words (I kid you not) I hear a bit of snuffling noises coming from upstairs. Mind-readers! I think all babies must be mind readers; se had woken up. I changed her, and she was fussing a bit, but that is fairly normal for a just woken up child, and took her downstairs.Wheree she fussed and fussed and fussed. A bottle didn't help. Playing didn't help. Singing... I think singing made it worse, but then a crow dwells within my throat and I can't blame her for that one. Finally she snuggled down in my arms again and fell asleep, allowing me to finish off the letter, (with her in my arms) read a bit and then... she woke once more. Bottle, no, snuggle no, play no. Stupid conversation about a cookbook--it looked like a good recipe (must borrow those books). I've already filled you in about singing. Dh came by with a cup of coffee for me (we live right next door) and she gave him a brief smile, then back to sad face. I went to sit out on the porch, trying to settle her (look at that pretty sky! Such intelligent conversation. No wonder she was pouting!) when mom and dad came home.
Of course to fussing. Doesn't that always make one feel good?
But she really is a sweet baby(and brainy baby. I'm pretty certain this little one was saying "mama") and I did finish off one letter amongst the many I still owe, and read a lot of great stories by R.A. Lafferty (strange writer), and for my troubles earned forty shek.
Not bad!
I'm cleaning the bathroom now. Back to my mundane world.
Posted by Rachel Ann at May 16, 2005 11:33 AM