In the Beginning... or Shame on Me

The first time I ever babysat, I was in the 7th grade. I still had some baby teeth, was taller than most boys in my grade, and still believed that I could grow up to marry one of the Hanson brothers.


I had been working in my church's nursery and some of the mothers solicited occasional jobs from the volunteers that bounced their babies every week. This particular family had two boys, a baby about 9 months old and a 2 year old terror. Seeing as how this was a very long time ago, and statistically humans have difficulty retaining specific information when they are in a state of panic, some of the details are a bit foggy. What I do remember is calling my mother twice; once to ask what babies are allowed to eat and then to ask what to do about a crying baby when you put him in his crib. Her advice was helpful but my efforts were futile. The two year old sensed my hesitation and insisted that he always slept with his lamp on and I was so scared to let the baby cry I kept going back to his room and picking him up. When the parents returned home at about 10:00PM, they were greeted by a 12 year old in their living room bouncing their wide awake baby on her knee, watching sketchy television programing with all the lights on. To make matters worse, the two year old darling boy came bursting from his room (where he had been quietly playing with trucks....waiting to shame me) as soon as he heard his parents walk in.


After 12 years and thousands of hours logged watching over little ones, this whole memory is a bit horrifying now. But then I remember, these people left their children with an over-grown 7th grader! I couldn't be expected to Mary Poppins the job if I couldn't even keep my own room clean!
A few weeks passed and I never heard from them again. I'd see them occasionally at church, averting their eyes from mine and wrangling their children. All I can say is, thanks for the lesson and sorry for the headache.

-sam