Home stretchin'.

I am now on my third leg of this Tour de Niece watching Molly Moo for the rest of the week and into a bit of next. I can handle the child with no degree of difficulty. I am going to murder the new family dog. She’s a puppy still at six months old and she is a giant pain in the ass---chasing the cat around, spazzily prancing from couch to chair, eating pillows when nobody’s looking. I am bottomlessly grateful that Dan is allergic to dogs and cats and this will never be my fate. (Also, I kind of love the little barking shit and am happy her sleep crate is in the room I’m staying in so we can engage in psychic snuggling. I would let her in the bed but it’s against house rules.)

Last night Dan and I helped Mol with a little homework project which had her cutting off the top half of a cereal box to be used in her classroom as storage for library books, folders and whatever other presumed crap a fourth grader acquires throughout the school day. After the adult-guided scissor portion of the exercise, Molly was to decorate the “book box” as she wanted. While the kiddo was out of earshot, Dan and I brainstormed potential decorating schemes. Swastikas and pictures of horse genitalia were our first ideas. Writing “White Power” in bubbles letters along its side was Dan’s next suggestion. We shall not soon be parents though I think I’ll take several birth control pills tonight just to be safe.

The niece-nuzzling time certainly has its rewards though. Last night Mol and I took turns reading aloud at bedtime and both of us performed the piece in animated British accents. Blimey, the little wanker is good! I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of her than I was listening to her deliver a big book of animal facts as though it was a National Geographic documentary. The kid is funny which is really much more important than having manners or proper wiping technique ( both of which---I will clarify because she’s almost nine and it would be disturbing were it not the case--- she has). Bottom line, I just like the kid which soooooo helps when it comes to the whole not-beating-her thing.

The first night I stayed over Mol didn’t sleep in the bed with me which is a departure from my typical stay-the-nights which always have her asking me,”Lola, can I sleep in your bed tonight?” as soon as I walk in the door. I was sure to let her whenever she asked because I knew it wouldn’t last forever, and when she stayed in her own room that first night I was sure it was the end of our slumber parties. (Were she not the type who sleeps horizontally I might have been broken up over it.) But last night she returned to my side (as in, her feet in my side) and first thing this morning she asked if she could sleep with me again tonight. I won’t lie, I love it. There is such a peace to looking over from my book and seeing her sweet little freckly face.

Yesterday I drove Mol and a pal to dance class and realized I’ve been picking these kids up from school and schlepping them to that studio since they were three years old. On the drive over, Mol’s friend, A, told me she had been telling another fourth grade girlfriend how Lola was picking her up from school and that I was---and these are A‘s words---”so awesome.” She used her stretched arms to indicate just how awesome she explained me to be. To which Mol remarked, “Did you tell her she’s my aunt?”

Fourth graders---my target demographic.

When I dropped Mol off this morning and she showed me a flash of too-cool-for-Lola, I lectured her, “Remember, the girls are talking about me on the playground these days. Your aunt is sooooo awesome.” Then, after she jumped out of the car and was heading into school I rolled down my window and started shouting, “I love you, Molly! I’ll miss you! Have a good day! You’re the best little girl in the world! Be sure to use a napkin at lunchtime! I love you!” She laughed and smiled back at me.

Sooooo awesome.

Hopefully she still feels this way after the rest of our time together. I am as tired as it gets from all this house-hopping. No, this is not true. I just left a house where my sister was taking care of a two-year-old and a newborn...I could be a breastfeeding zombie, which I am not. (Not a bad idea for a Halloween costume though.) But it’s all catching up to me and l look forward to locking myself in my apartment for several weeks once all of this done. I suppose I’ve just recognized the rhythm of my life---surges of family and friend-focused energy and output followed by plunges into isolation. I guess that’s just how I do.

But just so we’re clear, I’m not leaving you guys hanging on summer camp stories. I've got something in the works though I may have to wait to post it until I get home again. I want the time and quiet to release it naturally and gently. But it’s coming, I swear. I need to relive it on paper to be sure it really happened.

Guys, it was sooooo awesome.