March 08, 2005
The Origins of Jerry
As I write this, I’m in an elementary school gym, inhaling the b.o. of many third grade boys. (And as I type this, I’m having trouble reading my handwriting.) Yes, I, the margarita-swilling, Barbie-collecting, sports-loathing Pirate Wench,… am at a pee-wee basketball game. I’m not exactly blending in here, and it’s only partially due to my complete lack of enthusiasm.
All the coaches and other parents are eyeing me. Who is that? We haven’t seen her here before. The other moms are mostly emaciated clothes-horses with shag haircuts and whorey make-up, while the rest are the short-hair-no-make-up-embroidered-turtleneck type. I’m clearly Not One Of Them. I’m the Ethan of Mystery Island. Fear me!
I’m here with -– I think I called him Billy before, but so as not to confuse him with Little Sister Billi the Billy Boyd Stalker, I’ll call him -– Jerry.
From age 5 months to 3½ years, I was Jerry’s nanny. No, I swear to God! I was a NANNY! I had just been “let go” from a shitty office job, and the new Pastor at our church, Pastor K, had an infant. I was working part-time in the church office (I know, it just keeps getting more and more surreal, doesn’t it?), so she asked me to spend the rest of my week watching her son, Jerry.
(Yes, Pastor K is a she. We’re Lutheran so we can do that.)
How could I say No to a Pastor? Every fiber of my being was going, “Dude. Seriously? You don’t even know how to hold an infant! What if it cries? What if it wants something?”
But she had asked around about me, and everyone at church had vouched for my kindness and capability. How could I negate that kind of excellent P.R.?
I was, appropriately enough, a Baptism by Fire. I changed diapers. I mixed formula. I entertained him… to the best of my abilities. But Jerry? Not as big of a G&S fan as Bart. It was HARD. I had to learn so much so fast, and that kid tested my every last ounce of patience. Well, that’s not exactly fair, since I’ve only ever had one ounce of patience at a time, but still, he was all over it!
(Christ, these folder chairs are hard. They’re, like, flattening my ass.)
He was colicky. He could scream for five hours straight. And his scream, well… it just wasn’t natural. It made my ears buzz. Sometimes, I’d be crying almost as hard as he was. God, why does anyone EVER have a second child?! I’m number three of four kids, and sometimes I just look at my crazy mother and think, “God, no wonder…”
A few things could be counted upon to stop the screaming, at least momentarily. And I’d like to say it was my singing, but that’d be a big, fat, beautiful lie. No, it was the huge stained glass windows in the church sanctuary. One time, as I was standing there crying, bouncing this eternally-screaming kid, I was like, “God, why doesn’t he just stop?! Why am I doing this?!”
And I’m not going to say that God spoke to me cuz, seriously, we all know he’s got much better people to talk to. But a voice in my head said, “Nothing this hard is without its rewards. Wait.”
And I did. And Pastor K turned out to be my rock, the fellow stepmom who tells me, “YOU’RE NOT CRAZY!” It’s a desperately needed reminder that is most believable when coming from another stepparent. Yeah, one of my bestest buds is a Pastor who’s even older than Husband. It's kinda weird.
Hey, the guy next to me just said, “That number 23 is good. They should pass to him more.”
And I’m like, “Twenty-three? That’s Jerry! He thinks Jerry’s good! Wait’ll I tell him!”
And my heart was all bursting with joy and stuff. I guess I love the little freak after all.
Comments
of course, the troublemaker in my pants...er..head...compels me to say "it's good training for when you have kids of your own!"
and then I sit back down on that troublemaker and I laugh and laugh.
I love that you're Ethan. when everyone knows you're really the French Chick. with a gun and everything.
Posted by: heather at March 8, 2005 09:13 AM
Amazing how attached you can become to the little critters, isn't it?
A lot like ticks and head lice, but much cuter.
Posted by: groundhog at March 9, 2005 08:21 AM