Trying, but not impossible

Thursdays are long days with the Lil Pea. I have to get here early because the Baby Daddy has an 8am meeting every Thursday. Unless, like today, he was on call the night before, in which case I still have to get here early so the Baby Mama can get to her office by 8am.

Because he's on call, he will stumble into the apartment at about 11 or 12 and poke around very tiredly until he finally decides to have a go at a nap. At this point, I take the baby out for a long walk, allowing him to really sleep without any distraction.

Also, every other Thursday, a woman comes to clean the place. On days like today, I pray she comes before Baby Daddy comes home, although this isn't always the case. At any rate, it is not fun to try to feed the baby, dress the baby, play with the baby, put the baby down for a nap when there is a little Honduran lady smashing her vacuum into walls and moving, magically, into the room you were hoping to use for the next little ritual in the baby's day.

This is one of those Thursdays. Cleaning lady, Daddy post-call, early morning...

Add to that the following complications:

Baby Daddy and Mama haven't gone out on a date in a loooong time. I informed them last week that I was, indeed, free this evening to babysit so they can go catch a play they've been wanting to see. So today I'll work from 7:30 to 4:30, get some dinner, wander back here by about six, and stay until eleven or so. And, of course, return tomorrow morning at 8am.

JoBiv will need her wits about her for such a feat! Cue the pandemonium!

Last night, ten minutes to midnight, I got a phone call. I was trying to convince myself that I was sleeping, so I didn't answer, but my heart pounds for a good ten minutes when the phone rings while I'm in this fake-sleep phase.

It was the Big U. I couldn't hear what he was saying on the machine, but we have been making plans for this weekend and I assumed it had something to do with that. Of course, my obsessive brain wouldn't leave it at that, and I wondered whether I should get up and listen to the message for the next five hours straight.

Five a.m., the phone again, heart pounds... This time I heard Heather moving around and realized that it's her cab. She's headed to CA for a week and had an early flight. ThuTHUNK ThuTHUNK ThuTHUNK...

After hitting the snooze eleven times, I finally got up, showered, turned on the Weather Channel, and remembered the phone message.

"Hey Jo, it's Ulysses, it's like, almost midnight on Wednesday night aaaand IIII'm Drunk. And so I was calling you while I'm drunk, but don't call me back or anything because I might not be drunk by then and it wouldn't be any fun. So. Goodnight."

Ookay.

Meanwhile, the Weather Channel informed me that my day would be HELL, rainy and cloudy and awful, thus keeping Lil Pea and Nanny indoors while coordinating the three-ring circus of Daddy post-call, cleaning lady, and Lil Pea's normal day.

Off to work... I arrive to baby Mama's quick updates: The Pea was sick yesterday (my day off) with a fever of 103. She threw up the liquid Motrin, so they're giving her suppositories. The suppositories melted in the heat, so they now make their home in the freezer. And just in case you're wondering, I can't WAIT to shove an ice cube up the baby's butt. That should be a ball.

Do you think this day is even possible for a sane person, much less your favorite JoBiv? Sick baby plus post-call Thursday plus evening sitting plus NO sleep plus rain... That's not a recipe for disaster. I should be fiiiiiiine...