Somebody

I want to be a somebody to somebody who needs me.

I want to be somebody's somebody.

I want somebody to want to be my somebody.

The more I say somebody, the stranger it sounds.

Strange.

I remember my father sitting outside the room I shared with my siblings, when we were younger. It was a regular nighttime ritual, he would plant a chair outside our room, and 'shush' us anytime someone made a noise. I guess my parents figured it was the only way to guarantee that we would go to sleep without killing each other. It worked, mostly.

I have been taking care of 3 little dependents for the past few days while their parents are out of town. Firstly, waking up while it is still dark out is no joke, I don't know how parents do it every day. And I don't drink coffee. I'm stumbling around trying to get 3 kids up and out the door, while getting myself dressed, doing my hair and makeup and trying to look presentable. I think I have it all together until I see a mom in heels waltz by me looking hotter than hot, while my eyes feel tired and blurry.

So I too sit outside their door, listening to them breath and waiting for them to fall asleep. The oldest is nine, he says he "can't sleep", which I take to mean that he is scared and wants me to come sit with him.

It is strange being the one to lock up at night, set the alarm, be a buffer between these 3 kids and all the bad on the other side of the door. I can no longer be afraid of the dark, or spiders, or potential home invaders, because if I am scared who will be brave for the kids?

For the record, I'm not scared of any of those things mentioned above. Mostly.

I am experiencing what is like to take care of people other than myself, and it is: thrilling, fulfilling, exhausting, annoying, accomplishing, taxing, and it's only been 3 days. I realize sleep is key, because I'm not a very nice person when I'm tired.

So I'm catching up on sleep while I still have the chance, which is why I vow to never wake up before 11 again.