Adventures in babysitting

Thoughts on babysitting four children under the age of ten, on the occasion of their parents‘ birthday celebration (out, of course):

• Wear comfortable clothing. You never can tell when you will be leaped on, will have to catch a recalcitrant toddler, or may be used as a (literal) bouncing board.
• Corollary to the above: Grow eyes in the back of your head. You never can tell when a four-year-old child will be playing “projectile” to your “target.”
• Make sure you know where the ice packs are kept. Yes, in the freezer, but be ready for instant access when needed. (This is for your own benefit, generally.)
• Just because they like you doesn’t mean that you’re going to have an easy time of things.
• Be aware that the phrase “Time for bed!” brings out the demon in every child, and expect the personality change. Also understand that 8 p.m. is Children’s Savings Time, resulting in children’s actions taking approximately four times as long as they do prior to bedtime. Children’s Savings Time ends exactly at the moment the child awakes, whereupon Child Time resumes its normal sixteen times the average human, except where chores are concerned.
• When a child is under his bed, crying because Mommy isn’t there to tuck him in, the last thing he wants to do is answer the question, “Did you brush your teeth?” Corollary to that: Handing him his pajamas and saying, “But we have to put these on,” is about as welcome as spinach-flavored candy.
• The sweet, happy child that was previously running up to you and saying, “You can’t catch me!” will turn into a tearful, wordless one when you make the mistake of not letting her eat her vitamin before brushing her teeth. (We shall not discuss her habit of curling her lips in on purpose so that you cannot get to her teeth.)
• Never forget Empathetic Crying Syndrome. If one of them is crying, rest assured, the other will start soon. The phrase, “You don’t have to cry about it!” has been scientifically proven to cause twice as much crying as saying nothing at all.
• As a result of The Great Vitamin Incident, Child Two will be crying herself to sleep along with Child One. Accept it. The secret to the Zen of Children: Knowing that no matter what, they will cry. Say goodnight, hear the inarticulate growl and the quiet whimper, and shut the door.
• Your lifelong hatred of Monopoly is validated when you effing lose a game of Monopoly Jr., particularly when someone points out to you that Monopoly Jr. requires no strategy. None. Zero. It is sheer chance. And you still get your ass kicked by a seven-year-old and a nine-year-old who, of course, gloat when they win. And you are far too old to throw the board across the room while shouting, “I quit! You win!” on realizing the inevitable fact.
• When told that you “made a mistake” about bedtime (in their favor, by half an hour) by the selfsame child who was only too happy to inform you of every single rule you were breaking the afternoon that his brother had the bouncy tent in the backyard for his birthday (“You’re not supposed to be wearing jewelry in the tent.” “No more than four people at a time.” “You’re not supposed to mix grownups and children.”), remember to restrain yourself from:

  a.) wrapping your hands around his throat,
  b.) telling him that his mother told you if he was bad he would have to sleep under the dining room table tonight and that not telling about the right bedtime qualifies,
  c.) swearing profusely.

  Instead, wait your turn for revenge, like when he insists that he can’t fall asleep without reading a chapter of Harry Potter. “Five pages. Starting now.” “But–” “You’re down to four.”

• When you finally have all the children in bed, and are relaxing on the sofa, reading, that is when the dogs will start whining and barking to be let out of their kennels.

Note to self: Stick with cats.