Baby Sitter Wanted: Fingerprints, Background Check, and References Required
this past wednesday was our anniversary. nine big ones.
nine.
n-i-n-e.
9.
who’d a thunk it? it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long (mostly), but i guess it has been nine years since wearing that white dress. 1996 looks like ages ago when you write it down. *sigh*
fast-forward to the present and now the question is, what to do with the offspring while mommy and daddy celebrate? why, get a baby-sitter, of course!
ella’s first baby-sitting experience. this is when new moms and dads get to exercise the maximum amount of neuroses and brow beat the poor, unsuspecting savior of their social life. for us it was my mother. bless that woman.
why is it, no matter how much experience or wisdom, or how many babies they’ve birthed and successfully raised on their own, the new parent skeptically eyes their babysitter as some newbie greenhorn. it’s not like ella hasn’t hung out with her grandma before. it’s not like grandma hasn’t been to our house before. it’s not like i wasn’t raised by said woman with only minor psychological damage. but mom has mellowed out in her old age and being a grandma, or momo as she likes to be called (don’t ask, i have no idea), and watching ella is part of the grandma code. it’s what all older women aspire to and who am i to deny this rite of womanhood?
this aside, it was time for business. i walked her through our house like she was a tourist:
-here’s where the fridge is with ella’s bottle; she probably won’t need it, but just in case.
-uh-huh.
-let’s go upstairs and i can show you where the diapers are and where the bassinette is.
- *eye roll*
-this is how I put ella down to sleep. here’s her jammies, she’ll probably fall asleep soon after she cries for about thirty minutes or so….
and on and on i blathered, tony interjected and mom stood there with ella (who by this time had completely forgotten our existence), patiently waiting for us to get a clue and leave already. so we yammered some more until she told us to leave.
we were kicked out of our own house. sometimes the tough love approach is the best approach.
we were off. giddy with abandon. it was with some guilt (but not too much) that we proceeded to have a lovely evening drinking wine, conversating, drinking wine, eating crackers and dip, drinking wine, listening to music, and drinking wine.
it was a wonderful way to spend our ninth anniversary, from what i remember. ha, ha. and to our credit, we didn’t call home once. not that tony didn’t try to talk me into it a couple of times, but i had a sneaky suspicion she was dealing with a screaming three month old who wasn’t about to go to sleep.
nah, i’d rather let ella and grandma bond uninterrupted.
besides, she’s a pro. she can handle it. and did she ever. we stumbled home to a sleeping baby and a sleepy grandma, but no fires, electric shocks, medical emergencies, or break-ins to speak of. everyone survived the experience.
one down, one to go. this saturday we’ll be doing the neurotic parent gig again with a new babysitter.
poor, unsuspecting newbie.