Jealousy

My job is becoming more and more Nanny Diaryish as the weeks go on. There is so much jealousy in this house between parents, and now it seems I am contributing my own. I don't know if I would call it jealousy exactly, but a fierce Mama Bear mentality that I'm not actually entitled do. J and D have stopped fighting with eachother and are now fighting over poor S. Its like they are both tugging on her arms and for a while she thinks it is fun, but then it starts to hurt. And I just want to stand up and yell "Don't you dare hurt my baby." Lately they've taken to coming down to "play" with S at random times during the day, and I find myself growing jealous and resentful, like I'm having her stolen from me. I've been at this job for 4 months now, and while that may not seem like very long, I am totally and completely attached to this kid. Lately I've ditched "naptime" and started just taking her into her room and holding her and singing to her until she falls asleep in my arms, perfectly peaceful, and perfectly safe. I have the primal urge to protect her from all this tension raging around her. I keep feeling that I really need to detach myself, but I don't know how, or even if I can.
And then I came to a realization tonight of what the psychology behind my actions is. In a way...in the back of my consiousness...S is actually me. I have this intense desire to be nothing but a place of love for her, like a shield against everything out of our control. That maybe if I can just love her the right way for even a little while, she'll develop an immunity against what I can only see as a troubled life of privilege, appearances, and expectations. It's terribly presumptuous of me, I know. Who am I to judge? I'm the one that is already premeditating a cold, calculated, and heartless abandonment of this same child that I "love."
Sigh.

Cheerio!

I’m sick of being here. I mean, part of me loves it here. London really is a fascinating city. But I am so in need of some space. I am about to start my period, so I am restless and irritable in the first place. But I just want to get back into a kind of routine where I am not “on” every second. D and J have not stopped partying and shopping since we got here, which means that Stevie and I have been pretty much on our own (or following them around…worse) every day from when she wakes up to when she goes to bed. I haven’t had a day off in 10 days and I really need my time off so that I can feel refreshed and okay with being a house elf. I guess part of my craziness comes from my PMS (I’m really not myself), but I am so sick of J and D. Their idea of spending quality time with Stevie is by having me and her tag along while they go into trendy boutiques with blaring techno music or into dull modern art shows. And poor Stevie is just bored out of her fucking mind. But mostly they are just bugging the shit out of me with their lofty attitudes and superficial lifestyle. I shouldn’t say this really, they showed me a little compassion today and let me off for 4 hours alone while they did more shopping with Stevie. I went to the Imperial War Museum (which was AMAZING) and the Sherlock Holmes Museum (which was quaint but nothing crazy). There are so many beautiful and interesting places in this city, and parks to die for…and they spend all their time spending money at expensive designer stores identical to the ones in New York. I don’t get it. I’m not looking forward to our 8.5 hour flight home on the crappy Air India, but at least home is at the end of it. I can turn on my music, check my email, call my family and friends, shut the door and curl up in bed with a good book. I’ve been so isolated here. I can’t sleep because I know that Stevie is in the next room, and usually D and J don’t get home until 3 or 4 am and so I sort of anticipate their coming even though it doesn’t matter really (I can just relax more).
Oh, and what am I getting for my troubles? An extra 100 dollars added to my paycheck on Friday. Whoop-de-fucking-do! Sod it all, as they say. Maybe they’ll let me have a long weekend. I think they know I am annoyed. I try very hard to be nice and polite and helpful, but I do have passive-aggressive tendencies, and my face is an open book (or so I am told).
Stevie broke a little candle holder in the apartment today. It was just a little glass thing but it shattered all over the bathroom floor. So of course I feel totally responsible and miserable. It probably cost this guy like 2 pounds at a junk shop, but I still feel shitty about it, even though it was just an accident. I spent an hour picking up teeny little glass shards.
I don’t know why we aren’t just staying at a hotel. I mean, these people are loaded. But the apartment is D’s good friend from Oxford. He actually dropped in on Stevie and me the other day and was super nice. Actually all D’s friends that I’ve met are really nice...his Oxford chums. And D has been very inclusive of me, which is actually nice. Most of them are history and anthropology types and so I’ve had some interesting conversations with his friends. It’s a nice break from being a wallflower.