Last night was the first time I actually hired a babysitter, and while I was anxious and relieved to get out of the house sans children, I was nervous, too. Nervous that I was potentially leaving this poor, sweet girl with two screeching wildabeasts. Nervous that once my car door slammed upon return she’d be flying out the door, running for her vehicle with a new-found twitch; for no amount of money is worth battling a defiant two-and-a-half-year-old while trying to maintain sanity with a screaming six-month-old.
I wrote out everything I thought she could possibly want/need to know, and then some that just made me feel better writing down, so she had quite the novel to read. I then decided to relieve her of that duty, mostly because I needed to hear myself say these things out loud to her, going through each point myself while showing her around the house.
Everything was left as easily accessible and “ready” as possible so as to make “Witching Hour” more tolerable; the kids were already in their jammies, the bottle warmer was set up and ready to go, Gwyneth was fed, dinner was cleaned up, and Cal’s dinner was set out with Gwyneth’s stool set by the counter, ready for her to lend a helping hand. Wishful thinking?
After I gave the sitter the “last resort” instructions, what to do if madness ensued and she was finding herself with only three hairs left on her head, I grabbed my coffee mug and high-tailed it out of there to my church group.
I was only to be gone for approximately two hours, but while there I found myself watching the clock the entire time, picturing what the sitter would probably be doing with the kids at each glance. I was so curious as to how the evening went that I even left a little early to go home and see if she ever wanted to step foot in our household again.
When I neared the entrance and didn’t hear any screaming, or footsteps running for the front door, I knew things at least ended well. Once inside the sweet girl was sitting on the couch reading her book and I was greeted with a giant smile.
I was told the night had gone incredibly smoothly, there was no crying or defiance from either child, not even when put to bed, and that they had a fun time playing kitchen and being shown all of Gwyneth’s treasures.
She then said she would love to come back any time.
And that’s when I over-excitedly yelled, “KEEPER!” and restrained myself from giving her a giant, inappropriate hug while letting down a huge sigh of relief.
I know I was prepping our sitter for the worst situation possible but nights do happen where both kids are in tears and no matter what you do, it’s the wrong thing, so I just wanted her to be prepared. But, I suppose I should give my kids more credit.
They are sweet and (mostly) well-behaved kiddos, and they deserve a little more faith from their Momma.