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Mar. 29th, 2008 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elucrehTonight I am babysitting for a new family--one I haven't babysat for before. I know both children quite well--they attend the preschool where I work--but I hadn't done the private-care bit for them.
It's quite a pleasant change from nannying, or even from babysitting for one of my "regular" families. Those who are used to me know that I take temper tantrums, vomit, and cookie baking in my stride, with as much composure as possible, nine times in ten. (And the tenth, to quote somebody, is generally a humdinger.) I have been urinated on, bitten, and smeared with homemade playdough--but I'm competent and have a sense of humour and handle these things fairly well. I don't mind, honestly--it comes with the territory, and I love the territory. I cook, I entertain, I maintain structure and reasonable amounts of discipline, and then when the kids go to bed I clean up. The families who know me are aware of this and feel safe in rushing out the door while blowing kisses over their shoulder and leaving their cell numbers lost somewhere in the chaos of a half-cooked dinner.
But this family?
When I arrived, the children had been fed dinner, given strict instructions as to bedtime, and provided with four alternate activities to keep them busy. All of these activities required little to no input from me...they were completely within the kids' range of competence and guaranteed to keep the children happy and quiet.
It's nice, going back to the days when having somebody else take care of your kids was an Event, which needed to be carefully planned for. On her way out, Mom managed to repeat three times that the important thing was that they listen to me, so I would come back. The children are to make everything easy for me.
I feel valued.
It's kinda nice.
It's quite a pleasant change from nannying, or even from babysitting for one of my "regular" families. Those who are used to me know that I take temper tantrums, vomit, and cookie baking in my stride, with as much composure as possible, nine times in ten. (And the tenth, to quote somebody, is generally a humdinger.) I have been urinated on, bitten, and smeared with homemade playdough--but I'm competent and have a sense of humour and handle these things fairly well. I don't mind, honestly--it comes with the territory, and I love the territory. I cook, I entertain, I maintain structure and reasonable amounts of discipline, and then when the kids go to bed I clean up. The families who know me are aware of this and feel safe in rushing out the door while blowing kisses over their shoulder and leaving their cell numbers lost somewhere in the chaos of a half-cooked dinner.
But this family?
When I arrived, the children had been fed dinner, given strict instructions as to bedtime, and provided with four alternate activities to keep them busy. All of these activities required little to no input from me...they were completely within the kids' range of competence and guaranteed to keep the children happy and quiet.
It's nice, going back to the days when having somebody else take care of your kids was an Event, which needed to be carefully planned for. On her way out, Mom managed to repeat three times that the important thing was that they listen to me, so I would come back. The children are to make everything easy for me.
I feel valued.
It's kinda nice.