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“Uno,” says my sister, and I’m shaken out of my head.
* * *
January 1, 2:00am
My family has leftand only Dee and David remain. We’re trying to finish the last bottle of bubbly while talking about things we couldn’t talk about in front of kink uninitiated (the “vanilla”) people.Granted, every group that I have run across – kink, swinging, etc. – calls anyone who’s not part of that group “vanilla.” Why can’t we just all get along?
David, Dee and I are getting along quite fabulously. And that’s all that matters right now I think as I sink into Dee while David holds both of us in his arms.
* * *
January 2, 3:00pm
“What doyou think about me and the kids stopping at your place during our Spring Break road trip?” he asks as we’re relaxing in the hot tub next afternoon. “I have 10 days, and I want to take the kids to the Grand Canyon and other places around here. They’re old enough to start building wanderlust, and there is so much to see out here. We could use this place as our base and drive out to various parks around here.”
I like it, but also somewhat taken aback. I see the kids when I’m in Chicago, but Vegas has always beenourspace. Not to be invaded by the very loud and invasive species such as kids. But it’s a good plan, and I get to play Mommy for a week. I did that to a degree when I was nannying for them, but that was David’s house. This is mine. In my mind, there is a world of difference. Do I want to be a Mommy? I play that role with other hockey parents in Chicago, but that’s also different. This is my home.
Despite my reservations, I hear myself saying “That will be great!” So next time kids are with David and I’m still in Vegas, he suggests to the kids that they visit me in Vegas for Spring Break on the way to Grand Canyon. He puts the call on speaker, and I can hear the kids excitedly talking over each other as they try to tell me what we should do, “Can we go swimming at the lake? Can we go on a boat? Can we go rock climbing?”
Kids, the trip is two months away. Very loud and very invasive. Indeed.
* * *
March 15, 11:00pm
I am wokenup from my musings by my phone vibrating. Hmmm, I guess I dosed off waiting for them. And I guess spring is here already. Two months have seemingly gone by a lot faster than they used to. The phone woke me up with a text. He’s here, and the twin girl is dying to use the bathroom. He asks if I can meet her and help her get up while he unpacks the car.
Before I know it, she’s running down the hall, “Anna, Anna! Ireallyneed to pee!” I grab her and we run to my apartment. Once inside, she books it to the bathroom. A few minutes later she emerges, sheep faced. “Sorry, Anna, I didn’t mean to be such a problem. I’m really, really sorry…” Her face tightens and I can tell she’s about to start crying.
“Hey, hey, it’s fine. It was a very long final part of the drive. Look, do you want a snack?” She perks up instantly, distracted by thoughts of potato chips and cookies.
“Do you have chocolate chip cookies?”
“Of course, who do you think you’re talking to here?”
I help them all settle into the guest room where the oldest will sleep (she needs more privacy, she’s getting towards puberty). I’ve set up a little blanket fort in the living room, too, for the younger two. They are all about the giant pillows and sleeping bags (“Like campinginside!”).They’re especially excited I remembered all the s’more ingredients. After all, what’s camping without s’mores? I’ve got this little trick where I set up the graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows in neat little stacks on baking trays and make a dozen at once. Yes, I found it on the Internet. I don’t need to come up with everything myself, but I’m still going to take all the credit!
* * *
March 16, 3:00pm
After a long and difficult drive,we give the kids a day to recover before adventuring begins, So, the next day, he and I are sitting at the dining room table. Drinking coffee, reading on our phones. I feel a little tug on my arm. There is a seven year old looking up at me, clutching the book I’d given her yesterday in one hand and a ukulele in the other. “Band time!” She says. “We need family band time.” “Fine, let me get your dad outside,” I pick up my phone again to finish the article. “No, thewholefamily!” She insists. Oh. Right. It’s sweet how easily she’s accepted me into her family. But I guess ithasbeen a year. How time flies.
David and I go to the balcony. We get started right after I show her how to actually use the ukulele. Once she gets the hang of it, we all play together. Then David and I start preparing for the presentation with have with one of the community colleges. Hoping to partner with them and funnel college students towards our program. Take breaks between work and spending time with the little ones.
I have a bit of a stumble when the twins and I are coloring pictures in the sun lit living room. “Mom doesn’t like you,” she says so in an off-hand manner. Her brother agrees and asks, “but why doesn’t mom like you?” I wonder if they see my reaction (a little taken aback), because she follows up with, “It’s okay, though. Mom doesn’t really like anyone.”That’s a weird thing for a child to say, isn’t it?
I don’t know kids that well, though. Maybe this is normal. I mean, sure I’ve taught them, but I haven’t been around them as much since I moved out of nannying.. And I’ve done my best to not betooinvolved with them. I don’t think that’s fair. I don’t even know how long I’ll be around. You don’t want to get a kids’ hopes up and then leave them. That’s how you get abandonment issues, and I am not saddling them with that (bad enough that it was done to me!). I let the subject drop.
* * *
March 17, 7:00am
Grand Canyon day,as promised.We must look like a great family driving a great family car with a great big bin on top of it going to do great family things. It’s “only” a four-hour trip to the Canyon, and I miss most of it, since I have a knack for falling asleep in cars. Any moving vehicle, really. Planes, trains, and automobiles. There is a reason I don’t own a bicycle.
We pull into parking lot and the kids are off and running. David points them to the visitor center so they can get their Junior Ranger Badges. They’re not convinced as to why they need to do something that looks a lot like homework on vacation. He induces them with new Junior Ranger floppy hats, and they dutifully pick up their homework packets.
“I don’t think I’d like to do homework on Spring Break, either,” I tell him as we trail the kids down the path while they’re furiously trying to complete their activities.
