‘Desperate Measures’

Celia flopped herself down on the couch.  She laid her head back and sighed deeply.  She had not imagined that taking care of three children could be the most emotionally and physically draining job in the world. 

The past week had crawled by in a series of mildly catastrophic events.  It seemed she and the children went from one crisis into the next. From pinched fingers to stolen toys, it was all Celia could do to keep her cool and in short order she saw that these angelic creatures may be intentionally provoking her to anger. She made her expectations abundantly clear, over and over. And yet ‘don’t hit your brother’ proved to be an exceptionally hard rule to abide by.

The promised help from Mrs. Adams had not materialized. On the second day alone with the children, Celia had knocked on the neighbour’s door, desperate for a splash of cream for her coffee. Mrs. Adams had opened the door and peered down at her disheveled appearance with disdain. After Celia’s kind introduction and simple request, Mrs. Adams promptly informed her she was not in the business of charity work. Furthermore, as Mr. Patterson saw fit to hire himself a nanny while he and his wife toured the country-side, she for one, would not be endorsing such flagrant shirking of responsibility. Celia shook her head at the memory, still confused by the suspicion in Mrs. Adams’ eyes as she questioned Celia on their expected return date, the amount of money the couple had left behind, and her own credentials. She had referred to Celia as ‘hired help’ with such condescension, as if she herself had not been hired to help with the housekeeping just a few days before. Celia would not find a needed friend in her.

For one unwilling to expend anything further of herself, Mrs. Adams kept a very close eye on Celia and the boys, and more than once Celia had felt eyes follow them down the street from the safety of her kitchen curtained window. If she was truly indifferent to the situation, why had Celia seen her creeping out of the backyard after a particularly tumultuous tantrum thrown by the twins in unison over the thought of taking a bath before bed?

The house shuddered as the gusts of wind shook its frame.  The rain pelted hard against the windowpane.  Celia sighed again.  Rain had fallen for the past six days.  Sometimes it was a downpour, sometimes a heavy sprinkle but always raining.  She herself was quite partial to a rainy day.  She loved to read, and curling up by the fireside with a good book was the perfect occupation for a rainy day.  Unfortunately, the three precious children in her care had vastly different ideas of rainy day activities.  She did not have the time to curl up with a cozy book.  She barely had the time to brush her teeth. 

Celia shook her head.  What was she doing wrong?  Sure, Mr. Patterson had looked a little frazzled when she met him at the library, but he had managed to do more than sigh and moan, which was all she felt capable of in the moment. 

She analyzed the week behind her.  It seemed only minutes after the car had disappeared around the corner that things began to systematically fall apart. 

To begin with, William, sweet cherub that he had been when his parents were home, seemed to be capable of doing nothing but crying now.  He sobbed with long, sad sobs.  After an hour of attempting to soothe him with hugs and cuddles which he seemed to suddenly be against, Celia had in desperation put him in his bed and shut the door.  While she had been so preoccupied with William, the other two children had amused themselves with a pair of scissors and the bookshelf.  They had taken every book they could reach and cut out pretty, or not so pretty, patterns on many of the pages.  Celia recalled her feelings of amazed horror when she had discovered their game. 

William had woken up from his nap soaked and cranky.  Celia realized that she should have changed his diaper before his nap and now she would have to bathe him and his bed.  It felt like Ethan and Joshua flipped from constantly fighting with each other to loving each other to the point of smothering someone.  The baths were crazy.   When Celia had left to dress William, the boys began a game of “pour water all over the bathroom”.  Celia was amazed at how wet everything could get in only a matter of minutes.  William was suffering from a terrible diaper rash, causing him much pain and suffering.  Celia was at a loss of how to help him.  Supper that day was very late, leaving the children very cranky as Celia attempted to throw something together with William in her arms.  She realized she should have hidden the scissors earlier on when she discovered the boys had cut off the bottoms of the living room curtains. 

The madness had stopped only as the boys had drifted off to sleep and Celia herself had gone to bed right after cleaning up the chaos.  That night, and every night since, she had been woken up several times to the sounds of crying from William’s bed.  More than once, she had been deep in slumber when she felt a presence beside her head.  Opening her eyes, she had found a little boy beside her bed watching her sleep, patiently waiting for her to awake.  His bed was wet. 

Each day and night seemed to follow in a similar fashion.  William’s crying did get better as long as she held him in her arms all the time.  The diaper rash was still very much a problem to which Celia needed to find a solution soon.  Ethan and Joshua had found adventure and fun around every corner.  Celia felt she followed behind them in a frenzied attempt to control the chaos of their creativity.  Her nights were filled with disruptive sleep and she really couldn’t remember the last time she had felt really rested. 

Celia sighed again.  How did other parents do it?  She had seen them around town, and they all seemed to be quite happy.  It didn’t look that hard.  Where did they get their energy to provide all that was needed for the children in their care? 

Celia had thought herself well prepared to take on this parenting job.  She had read a lot of books on children and loved to be with them.  None of the books she had read had warned her of how hard it would be! 

They didn’t tell her what to do when the children absolutely refused to eat a meal.  Or how to keep little boys from playing in the toilet.  Or how to care for an infant’s sore bottom…and his inability to sleep on his own. Or what to do when the toddlers just plainly refused to listen to what she said. If only there was someone she could ask for advice. Her mind flitted to Mrs. Adams. Perhaps she had misread her. No, something about that woman made Celia cautious.

However, things were out of control and something needed to be done!  Rain or shine, tomorrow Celia resolved to pack the three children up and go to the library.  Somewhere there had to be a “How to care for children properly” book and she intended to find it.    Until then, it was all she could do to half-heartedly tidy up the house and collapse into her own bed.  Before she shut out the light, she peered in at the little boys, lost to their dreams in their bed.  Their hair was sweaty, and their dreams were sweet.  They looked like little angels so sweetly sleeping in their beds.  Her heart was overflowing with love for each of them.  Tomorrow was a new day, with no mistakes in it … yet.