An AOL commenter, Bob wondered what I might do with Manet's Olympia, and since I'm always open to suggestion, I came up with this. The twist? The painting I put her in is also a Manet.
Well, yesterday was a hoot. First, little Maya got fed, as her Mom told me about the harrowing night before, when the poor little angel had aspirated some mucus due to a bad cough and
had to be rushed to the emergency room. She was much better, but she was very tired, and I was relieved that she would probably nap while her Mom was in the meeting.Helas, her little cough succeeded in waking her up, and she wanted comforting. I staved off upset for about 30 minutes, playing with this toy and that, walking around, singing silly songs in gibberish--which, thank God, I speak fluently. And then she came down with a case of "You're not my Mommy," even if she could only articulate it as "WAAAAAHH"
I tried everything. Singing to her, different positions, let's try this ball, bottle? No? Okay, no bottle. I couldn't smell any poop, but I thought she might be wet, and so changed her diaper. Wouldn't you know you started peeing the second I put on new one on, soaking it, me, and her little outfit? Being a panicking newbie, I scooped her up and decided the priority was to calm her down before rediapering her yet again, as I was afraid her crying would bring on a coughing fit.
And, of course, I just wanted to be successful as the loving, reassuring caregiver with a magic touch. I walked her around, stroking her and talking to her in a calm, reassuring voice, imagining what it would be like if I had a 2, 3, and 4 year old afoot at the same time, like my mother had back in 1961. And she had no help, not a grandmother, aunt, sister, babysitter, no one except my Dad when he came home from work.
Eventually Mommy came out of the meeting and of course did everything Moms do because they're Moms. Here I was, feeling inadequate, while, she of course, was apologetic and explanatory, nervous that I wouldn't want to come back. Are you kidding? I'm signed up again for next Wednesday.
I admit I'm relieved not to have my own full-time baby. But the chance to have a part-time one, who is just on the cusp of her first words? How cool is that?
I may have a chance to do it with some flesh and blood in just a few years. My nephew and her girlfriend got engaged. He called to tell me--which I thought was very sweet and old world. Their's is going to be a stupedous marriage. (They were the one's tromping around India last year.)
MCO 2008
Oh what a bold hussy she is, sailing on some gondola in broad daylight. Manet on Manet--I love it!
Maya is adorable, what a cutie! I share your relief at not having a full time role as a parent but I also love part-time children.
You do realize that when your nephew and his wife-to-be have children that you will be a great-uncle. From what you revealed of the couple during their travels in India, I find them quite enchanting and wish them the best with their impending marriage. (Oh stop whining about being a middle-aged great-uncle!)
Babies are magic. Whenever I feel low on my own magic, I borrow some of theirs even if it's only passing them on the street. And when they do begin to talk they only tell the truth. That's scary at first but with practice I can take it.