Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“We cuddle! She my new mommy!”
The lack of hesitation to let horror hop onto his sharply cut face is almost offensive.
That shit better be about her snuggling some stranger and not a repulsion to me personally.
Because I’m fucking gorgeous.
He’d be lucky to bang me!
“Nonononono,” he rushes his words along with his enormous frame towards us. “Net. No. No-huh. This woman is not your new mommy.”
“But Joey is my new mommy!” Bella spiritedly argues.
“No, she’s not.”
“Yes, she is!”
“No, she’s not.”
“Yes, she is!”
“No, she’s not!”
“She is!”
“No, Bella! She’s-”
“She is! She is! She is!”
“Whoaaaaa,” my voice interrupts their fruitless feuding. “First, inside voices.”
Bella immediately turns her attention to me, and I gently tap my throat as if adjusting the volume. To no surprise, she enthusiastically does the same, yet her father – who hopefully forgives me for momentarily blanking on his name – quirks an eyebrow.
“You too, Daddy.” New waves of appalment and disbelief flood his expression pushing me to add. “Our job is to lead by example, not just our words.”
At that, his daughter redirects her glare to him, silently challenging him to begin a new squabble.
Goading him to fight with me so she can – in her still developing brain – justify fighting with him.
The joyless, flannel wearing, giant grumbles under his breath but lightly taps his long, tightening throat that would look even better covered in shades of my favorite Rudolph red lipstick.
Ooooohhhhhh….
No!
Absolutely not!
Time out for the pussy!
None of those are appropriate thoughts to have about my boss!
Which he has to be since his response to her calling me Mommy wasn’t at all like a boyfriend’s who just so happens to be introducing me to his daughter for the first time.
And since he’s my boss, I damn sure shouldn’t be fantasizing about smearing that color the length of his neck or the bite marks I’d happily leave behind like little territorial symbols to scare off all the other women interested in climbing that ice tower.
They’d be like little fuck off flags strategically planted, telling everyone he’s not only taken, he’s happy.
Satisfied.
Wait…satisfied?
What?!
What the hell is the matter with me?!
See!
See!
This is exactly why I typically refuse to work for single dads!
I am so not interested in becoming a suburban blog scandal.
Wonder what made him the exception?
Wonder if I left myself subtle clues about the decision.
After he’s finished, my new boss gestures a hand in my direction to continue.
“Next, we turn on our listening ears.” The light pats to my ears are mimicked by the two of them. “You need these, Bella, for listening to the rules and words grownups speak to help keep you safe and happy.” Meeting my employer’s pale blue glare sends unexpected chills down my spine that I do my best to ignore. “And you need these, Daddy, for helping your daughter feel valued and heard.”
More flashes of shock are briefly exposed; however, they quickly turn into understanding.
Thoughtfulness.
Appreciation for a point of view he hadn’t considered.
I call that an “aha” parent moment.
The one where they stop to realize that they’re not just dealing with a child but an actual person.
A person who has feelings and emotions and opinions all their own.
Seems like it’d be a no brainer or a “duh” moment, yet it’s not.
In all my years of doing this – even before I made a living at it – very few parents grasp this concept right off the jump.
It takes some coaching.
And some gentle correcting.
And sometimes a little bit of well-timed consequences from the little party they are communicating with.
No one likes waking up to a bad haircut that they didn’t ask for, let alone one given with child scissors, which for the record, are not always as “safe” as the packaging says.
Needless to say, while that whole incident wasn’t my fault, it did serve as a valuable teaching moment for all parties involved.
Including proper art supply storage.
“Last,” I force myself to sit up a little straighter in the hospital bed I’m still not entirely clear on why I’m in, “the word you want is nanny, Bella.” Once her eyes lock onto mine, I calmly explain, “Mommy and nanny can sometimes sound the same and their jobs sometimes look the same, but they are not the same. And as your nanny I am not here to take your mommy’s job from her. I’m simply here to help make your daddy’s job of being a daddy all on his own a little bit less hard.” Smiling is an effortless action. “Some families have two grownups together in the same house helping do the parenting job, and some families have more grownups in it, and some families only have one.”
“Like me and Daddy.”
“And my job – when I’m not dressing up like a princess,” – for some currently unknown reason that I would bet a box of peppermint bark was volunteer related – “is to help those families that only have one until they don’t need my help anymore.”