tainted love
I can barely keep my eyes open. My body feels numb. I’m getting a cold. I had cereal for dinner.
But I’m feeling good about life.
This job is full of high and lows. Some days seem so easy, and others are full of struggles, spills, screams and me saying sorry for something else I’ve done wrong.
Today I was at the family’s apartment at 8:30 to take the kids to tennis, forcing a smile after a night of very little sleep.
I was tired enough to get off at the wrong metro stop with the kids, and got lost in the outskirts of Paris.
“We’re going to be late!” They kept screaming up at me. "It happens," I'd answer, confused by my own calm.
At one point the young girl, often funny without trying to be, said: "All the other au pairs got lost at some point," only to add, "but we were never this late." Somehow we got there. We weren't too late, and we arrived still smiling.
The rest of the day went pretty smoothly, other than a few scrapes and spills.
Another young girl came over, and the two ran around in costumes, spreading toys all over the floor and making a small mess everywhere. The young boy played Star Wars on his playstation. Eventually I convinced them all to sit on the floor and do crafts rather than watch TV. This is my down time. Everyone goes fairly silent as we lie on the floor creating what we desire. I always draw, and the girl makes me add glitter, then takes my drawings and happily stashes them in pink drawers.
By the time Madame came home I could barely keep my eyes open. I dragged my body to the store to buy them toilet paper and garbage bags, my life having become one big to-do list.
But it’s okay. The kids are comfortable with me now. And vice versa. We play games all day. I allow them small liberties. And every so often they look up at and offer a tender smile.
Tired and immobile as I am, I’m feeling good about it all. Life is often hell. But it makes the good moments heaven.
Good and bad days, I want all of them. I want to be tainted, torn, tattered. I look at myself and realize I still have so much to experience. I want to have a love affair with life, full of lust and love, pain and pleasure, health and hangovers, highs and lows.
Paris is just the beginning.
But I’m feeling good about life.
This job is full of high and lows. Some days seem so easy, and others are full of struggles, spills, screams and me saying sorry for something else I’ve done wrong.
Today I was at the family’s apartment at 8:30 to take the kids to tennis, forcing a smile after a night of very little sleep.
I was tired enough to get off at the wrong metro stop with the kids, and got lost in the outskirts of Paris.
“We’re going to be late!” They kept screaming up at me. "It happens," I'd answer, confused by my own calm.
At one point the young girl, often funny without trying to be, said: "All the other au pairs got lost at some point," only to add, "but we were never this late." Somehow we got there. We weren't too late, and we arrived still smiling.
The rest of the day went pretty smoothly, other than a few scrapes and spills.
Another young girl came over, and the two ran around in costumes, spreading toys all over the floor and making a small mess everywhere. The young boy played Star Wars on his playstation. Eventually I convinced them all to sit on the floor and do crafts rather than watch TV. This is my down time. Everyone goes fairly silent as we lie on the floor creating what we desire. I always draw, and the girl makes me add glitter, then takes my drawings and happily stashes them in pink drawers.
By the time Madame came home I could barely keep my eyes open. I dragged my body to the store to buy them toilet paper and garbage bags, my life having become one big to-do list.
But it’s okay. The kids are comfortable with me now. And vice versa. We play games all day. I allow them small liberties. And every so often they look up at and offer a tender smile.
Tired and immobile as I am, I’m feeling good about it all. Life is often hell. But it makes the good moments heaven.
Good and bad days, I want all of them. I want to be tainted, torn, tattered. I look at myself and realize I still have so much to experience. I want to have a love affair with life, full of lust and love, pain and pleasure, health and hangovers, highs and lows.
Paris is just the beginning.
posted by Gillian Young at 9:31 AM
2 Comments:
I love this last paragraph so much. I wish I had written it. I feel the exact same way.
Given what I know about the two of you, Gill and foxly, I think you are going to get it all and spin it into gold, even if your fingers bleed in the process.
And, hey, what's wrong with cereal for supper?
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