Little Men of Mine
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Here Come the Guilts
I seriously cannot wait until this project is over. I must have had temporary amnesia when I agreed to do this job because I failed to recall the difficulties I had the last time I worked for this person.Two years ago, I had a deadline. I met the deadline. And on deadline day, this person suddenly discovered he had more space to fill and assigned me three more stories . . . the day before my middle son's 1st birthday party. I had a house to clean, food to prepare, a cake to make, presents to wrap; you name it, and it hadn't been done yet because I'd been busting my a-- to finish the aforementioned project. I had to move the party to the following weekend, and then half the guests couldn't come (including my brother and his family and my father). It was a teeny-tiny little party, and it was all Mr. Here's One More Story's fault.
This time, I told this guy that I needed to start the project as soon as possible so that I'd have as much time available to spread the work out as I could. It's very difficult to research, schedule interviews, execute the interviews, write the stories and follow up with the subjects when three extremely LOUD boys are all awake and going about their daily destruction. Did I mention that these projects usually entail writing about 10-15 stories in two or three weeks? So imagine my delight when Mr. Here's One More Story started getting me the assignments a full month before deadline!
Well, that's all well and good, and I did get a good jump on things. But last week, when there was another story assignment waiting every time I checked my email, it all started coming back to me. And yesterday, one week from deadline, with six stories still hanging over my head (including three elusive subjects who I still hadn't interviewed), I started freaking out. So I called my wonderful mother-in-law and asked if I could drop the boys off in the morning so I could get some quality writing time in. She agreed, and the boys were excited to go.
Here's where the guilt comes in (other than the guilt over yelling at and ignoring them for the past three weeks while I try to work). I had a lovely, productive morning alone. But when I arrived to retrieve my children, my MIL had to tell me about a mishap she'd had with Lou. While she was changing his diaper, he picked up her cylinder of Wet Ones and emptied it over his face. There were no longer any wipes in it, but there was a puddle of soapy liquid at the bottom, and he poured it right in his eyes. She had a hard time flushing them with water as the package recommended, but he seemed okay, if a little bloodshot.
Well, by the time I got him home, he wouldn't stop crying and kept telling me, "Eyes. Hurt." So I filled the sink with water and tried to splash it in his eyes. Let me tell you, that is not easy. He did a lot more yelling and crying, and then I gave up. I called my MIL to find out what the package said exactly. It recommended seeing a doctor if irritation persisted for more than 72 hours. 72 hours! So I let him fall asleep on my shoulder, put him down for a nap, and figured if he woke up complaining, I'd take him in. No way would I wait 72 hours!
Of course he woke up fine and virtually unscathed. My MIL called to check up on him, and that's when I really started to feel bad. She'd felt awful all day, worried that he could've blinded himself on her watch. I felt awful for putting her through that. I mean, being the grandma is supposed to be fun. The three of those boys together are a TON of work, especially when there's only one of you. Normally my FIL is around, but he had to take his mother to the doctor today, and I think Grandma was a little overwhelmed on her own.
I'm not going to do this to her again, and I'm not going to do it to my kids again, either. From now on, I only accept jobs from conscientious people who understand my schedule and my family's needs. Unless of course, the job pays well enough for me to hire a nanny. Yeah, right!
Posted by Jennifer @ 12:25 AM