I met another Mommy and her way too adorable 3yr old daughter for a picnic yesterday. We shared our cockroach stories of woe and laughed about the disgustingness of it all. Geckos in the house we can live with, giant centipedes even, with their poisonous legs, but the dreaded flying cockroach- no way.
Her cockroach initiation was hardcore. Husband was in Europe, all alone with the 3 year old when she heard the fluttering in the bedroom. Next thing she knew, it flew up in her face. A decision had to be made. Raid? Traps? A hotel? She packed her suitcase…… and moved into the guestroom. She stuffed towels under the door to stop him escaping, then snuck out on her lanai with a flashlight to peer in through her own bedroom windows and make sure it was still in there, night after night until her husband came home.
Now that my husband’s gone up the volcano, I have my own metaphorical cockroach to deal with. Single parenthood. It sucks. I don’t know how people do it. It’s only been about 36hrs, and I’m already cracking.
The last time he left for the summit (he has to go once a month, usually about 5 nights), it wasn’t as rough. The girls were a little younger, a little less aware. They knew he was gone, but didn’t kick up too much of a stink. This time around, they went ape. From dawn till dusk they went ape. Lulu regressed, waking up crying multiple times in the night. She took her diaper off and soaked her bed. Twice. Mumu slept like an angel all night but went bananas from late morning until about 8pm when I got both twinnies to sleep at last. All day they screamed in stereo. None of the usual distractions worked – rocking chair, singing, reading, bouncy seats, baby swing. They wanted Daddy, and nothing I could do could give them Daddy, and that’s the worst. You can’t solve that with Raid or even sticky traps. I’ll have to do what my friend did, wait it out. I’ll snuggle my babies and wait it out.
