Day 39: How to put a 5-year-old to sleep.
- Marlena Skrabak
- Jul 18, 2019
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 21, 2019
Sitting at the table in the morning, I enjoyed my cups of coffee and orange juice as I tried to get work done. Tried is the operative word as there was a young child running around in the house. She had gathered materials to make a birdhouse and was explaining the intricacies of such an architectural endeavor as I sipped on morning liquids.
At some point, I had to start my day for real, so I got myself over to Place de Clichy where I was meant to begin the discoveries for the 17ème arrondissement with my group.
Being the only one on time, I felt that I had seen enough of Place de Clichy and that I wanted to find a Monoprix to buy a cheap-o pair of flip-flops or something for this weekend's trip. Unfortunately, despite my successful reconnaissance mission into a Monoprix, I walked out without the winning pair of shoes in hand. Maybe I should try H&M? Or a different Monoprix? All I know is that I need a pair that I can destroy essentially, or at least not worry about destroying on the little island off of mainland Croatia: Vis.
Meeting up with only one other member of my group at Parc Martin Luther King Jr., we sat in the shade while planning our next walking path. Surrounded by a big hedge and modern buildings on one side and a skate park with slightly mean little French boys doing some scooter (?) on the other side, I felt like I was in the "vrai Paris."
Then, we essentially found out that most of the other sites were either closed, nonexistent, or had already been done by my group members. In short, we called it a day. Despite not doing this large amount of exploring, I still felt like I had a sense of the arrondissement from walking around trying to find the Monoprix. I was exploring amongst the Parisiens that live and work here, and today, that was enough for me.
Anna was feeling sick so she did not end up exploring during the day. As I headed back to Reid Hall on the early side, she texted me to tell me that she felt that she needed to head to a clinic and was hoping I could accompany her. Being sick sucks. Being sick away at school sucks even more. Being sick away at school in a foreign country sucks the most. So of course I went with her.
After getting a hot chocolate and some Madeleines from the Reid Hall vending machine (I am the epitome of health), I took the metro and met up with her. On advice from one of our professors, we walked into this modern and very clean clinic with a doctor's office that made me feel old. It was so high tech...or maybe it has been awhile since my last doctor's visit. Either way, I was quite impressed and stayed there for easier French communication and support.
Getting all her pain checked out, we left with many thanks and a prescription for the Pharmacie just down the way. The pharmacist was incredibly sweet with us as she complimented our French and told us how much she romanticized the United States. We said we romanticized Paris. We laughed and pondered how funny that is. The wishing to be elsewhere, the disillusionment with one's own daily life.
Heading back to Reid Hall, we were slightly late. We decided to be even later and stop by the bakery so Anna could grab a quick something. With my Madeleines in my bag from earlier, I decided to pass on this experience. I tried to exert at least a little self-control.
After class on immigration and expatriation with a text from Henry Miller to use for literary discussion, we scurried on home.
Dinner ended up being vastly different than we expected. On our walk home, we started approaching the heals of who we soon realized to be our "host dad," his son, and the son's daughter. Not wanting to get caught up in their conversation, having to walk slowly or increase Anna's current headache, we quickly turned on a side street and maneuvered our way home instead. Nonetheless, we still arrived before them.
Our "host dad" fell down the other day in the park and they deduced earlier in the day that his arm had been broken. They wanted to have a quick dinner a little early so that they could head to the emergency room in the evening. With their granddaughter in the house, they just needed us to help them get her to sleep. Of course, without a doubt we wanted to help so that they could make it to the hospital. After dinner, that consisted of some of the toughest fish I have ever eaten, they left in a hurry. I cleaned up the kitchen and Anna started to read to the 5-year-old. Then I helped finish one of the stories and got her to brush her teeth and go to the bathroom. The next task was getting her to sleep which was no easy feat. I mean if I were 5 and being taken care of by young adults, I probably would not have been able to sleep either. She showed us how she jumped, washed her hands, her different stuffed animals, how to tuck her in, how to make a human sandwich, and the list goes on. A few times, we thought we had succeeded, but just as we put our butts down in the kitchen chairs to finish our homework, we would see none other than the little one enter back into the kitchen to explain that she couldn't fall asleep. Eventually, we succeed. Lights out, we stayed with her in the bedroom, just using our presence as a way to calm her down. After 20 minutes or so, the movement stopped and her breathing became quite regular so we knew it was time to tip-toe out of the room.
Sitting in the kitchen with still a ton to do, I geared myself up with some toast and a spoon of pecan ice cream...that stuff is GOOD. Almost falling asleep at the table, I had to call it a night despite the fact that there was still a lot to do. Sometimes, that is just the way it goes.
Comments