Today, Ron took the two older girls over to our old house to rake up all the leaves. Apparently every deciduous tree in a two-block radius depostited leaves on our lawn and homebuyers don’t like seeing it. Or something like that.

Anyway.

That leaves me here with Emma. Alone.

Now, I am a mom of four. My oldest is twenty. I have looked after other people’s children. I know how to do this. I have even told wary children under my care not to worry, it’s my job. I’m a professional.

But there’s just one of her and one of me. Everyone else will not be home for at least four hours.

“Mom? Can you get me…?”

I get up. No one to hand off to. No one else is next to the fridge / cupboard. Nobody that might want to do whatever she wants to do.

“Mom? Wanna watch this show with me?” Thanks again Teletoon for showing Space Jam for the eleventy billionth time. Double thanks to Teletoon West and timeshifting. I get to watch it twice. Again. Even though it impresses Emma to see her mommy mouth along to words to a movie Emma is seeing for the first time, the novelty has long since worn off for me.

Or I’m getting old. I don’t think I can fly, either.

I used to be able to muster up the energy and cheer to watch child #3 discover all these things for the first time, but somewhere between there and here I think something went missing. That is, aside from my uterus, the use of certain parts of my brain, my natural hair color, the occasional use of my left knee and the inability to spring up from the floor without the use of something to haul up on.

“Mom! Wanna play a game?”

Somewhere back in time I did all those things – crafts galore, story after story, cool thing this, awesome thing that, let’s take this apart to see how it works. Now I am just tired.

“Mom?”

I think there’s a reason I had 3/4 ths of my kids all at once and all when I was younger. I could handle it then. I had energy. I was young.

“Moooo-ooo-ooom!”

In some ways, this getting older thing is pretty darn good. I mean, by the time said 3 older kids are, well.. older… I’m still quite young and have all this free time to pursue all kinds of interests.

“Hey Mom! Wanna hear a joke? What do goldfish grow in their gardens?”

Theoretically that is. Last night, Emma was telling Sarah of all the fun things she and Mommy were going to do today. She even said we have to write up a schedule. I’m afraid to ask what’s on it.

“Mom! Come see this!”

Last year, someone got me earplugs for Christmas. I wonder where they are?

“There’s hyenas in the playroom, Mommy, but I closed the door so they won’t get me.”

That’s nice honey. As long as they don’t make a mess in the rest of the house.

I should probably wrap this up. I’ve got a tea party to attend with Nemo, a lion and a stuffed zebra. Later, Barbie and Ariel will put on a fashion show. There may also be a fine-motor skill challenge involving exquisitely tiny plastic dolls and their stretchy rubber clothes. At some point, I think I’m supposed to whip up pajamas for a cuddly toy and make the pattern myself naturally, then stretch my brain to think up something for supper that both Emma and I will eat. Meanwhile, I am going to try and convince her that folding and sorting laundry is ~*~*~*~SO ~*~*~*~ FUN ~*~*~*~ !!!

It sounds full of awesome, doesn’t it?

I also have some computer and website issues a-plenty I am trying to fix, and in the middle of a sporatic conenction, I let out an “ARRGH!!”

“You should find your happy place Mommy, and stay there until you calm down.”

I just might try that. I’ll start with more caffiene for me and a computer turn for her.