The Babysitter
Today I finally met the woman who will be caring for my child when I return to work in January. I was supposed to meet her weeks ago, but then the whole thing happened with Tim and the hospital, and last weekend was super busy, so I just went today without Tim.
The lady's nice. She's younger than I thought-- about 50. I had imagined her closer to 60, for some reason. She and her husband live in a huge doublewide trailer in the middle of what amounts to a field. Since I had never met her, I had no idea whether she was going to come to the door with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth or what, then when she gave me directions to her house I realized that it's in an area notorious for being a little...umm...white trash-ish. Then she said, "Look for the doublewide out in the field," and, well, I confess that some stereotypes came to mind, and I got a little worried.
Fortunately, it was the biggest and nicest trailer I've ever been in. Nicer than my house, frankly-- or at least cleaner and with better furniture. Her gigantic field of a yard is way sweeter, too, and she has a little garden. There was no cigarette smoking going on, and she looked like a Sunday School teacher.
She told me about how she keeps the kids on a schedule that they follow every day, and I really like that. They only watch tv for a short time every day, and I definitely like that, even though my kid will be so young that he won't be doing anything other than sleeping most of the time he's there. You know what I'm saying. A routine that involves very little tv watching is ideal, in my opinion. I wouldn't want to pay her $100 a week to sit on her ass while the kids' brains are being rotted out in front of the tv or a Play Station all day long.
I didn't think to ask where she plans to let him sleep. I didn't see a crib or bassinet. I hope she's not planning to put him in her bed. Maybe I should call and ask about that. Ryan nearly suffocated once when his other grandmother (not my mom) put him to sleep on a regular bed. Someone went in to check on him, and he was completely blue and limp. My kid's not gonna be left on anything other than a regular crib.
My ultrasound is this Friday, and I'm hoping the doctor will want to induce labor soon after that. He keeps saying the baby is big for his due date. Lately, people have been telling me I look like I'm having twins. It went from "You don't even look pregnant!" to "Are you sure it's only one baby??" This is my last week of work, so the sooner after Friday, the better.
Speaking of my last week of work, I have 8 weeks of lesson plans to write. I'd better get on that.
The lady's nice. She's younger than I thought-- about 50. I had imagined her closer to 60, for some reason. She and her husband live in a huge doublewide trailer in the middle of what amounts to a field. Since I had never met her, I had no idea whether she was going to come to the door with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth or what, then when she gave me directions to her house I realized that it's in an area notorious for being a little...umm...white trash-ish. Then she said, "Look for the doublewide out in the field," and, well, I confess that some stereotypes came to mind, and I got a little worried.
Fortunately, it was the biggest and nicest trailer I've ever been in. Nicer than my house, frankly-- or at least cleaner and with better furniture. Her gigantic field of a yard is way sweeter, too, and she has a little garden. There was no cigarette smoking going on, and she looked like a Sunday School teacher.
She told me about how she keeps the kids on a schedule that they follow every day, and I really like that. They only watch tv for a short time every day, and I definitely like that, even though my kid will be so young that he won't be doing anything other than sleeping most of the time he's there. You know what I'm saying. A routine that involves very little tv watching is ideal, in my opinion. I wouldn't want to pay her $100 a week to sit on her ass while the kids' brains are being rotted out in front of the tv or a Play Station all day long.
I didn't think to ask where she plans to let him sleep. I didn't see a crib or bassinet. I hope she's not planning to put him in her bed. Maybe I should call and ask about that. Ryan nearly suffocated once when his other grandmother (not my mom) put him to sleep on a regular bed. Someone went in to check on him, and he was completely blue and limp. My kid's not gonna be left on anything other than a regular crib.
My ultrasound is this Friday, and I'm hoping the doctor will want to induce labor soon after that. He keeps saying the baby is big for his due date. Lately, people have been telling me I look like I'm having twins. It went from "You don't even look pregnant!" to "Are you sure it's only one baby??" This is my last week of work, so the sooner after Friday, the better.
Speaking of my last week of work, I have 8 weeks of lesson plans to write. I'd better get on that.
It is nice to know you have someone you are comfortable with to watch your child. I am sure that is a big relief!
Posted by
Anonymous |
5:38 AM
Not to raise an alarm or anything, but as I read this, I pictured that scene from Daddy Daycare, where the old couple with a heavy accent said, "We keep the chilllldren right around here" and then opened up the corrugated metal doors of the cellar.
That's my favorite scene from the movie. I don't think your lady is like that. She sounds great. I would leave my own kids with her if she would take 10- and 13-year-olds. Really.
Daycare is great. That's where my firstborn learned to French kiss--with another boy. He was only 3. I found out when I picked him up after work, kissed him, and he stuck his tongue in my mouth. He doesn't like to talk about it now, though. I think I'll write it in that memories book I bought from the Books Are Fun vendor at school.
Posted by
Hillbilly Mom |
6:03 PM
Julie, Now with my luck I'll turn on the tv and see her on COPS or something.
HM, Oh dear. I think all kids have an embarrassing kissing story. I had my first kiss with a little black boy in the doctor's office when I was 2-ish. My mom says I crawled right up to him and laid it on him. I probably caught a cold from him, or gave him one. Either way, my mother found it cute and made sure to bring it up juuuuust often enough that it would become permanently ingrained in my long term memory when I probably never would've remembered it on my own.
You should allow Son #1 to repress that one.
Posted by
Mommy Needs a Xanax |
9:14 PM