Horrifying Adventures in Babysitting
We went to see the new Star Wars movie today.* By “we” I of course mean “the people in our household over the age of one.” If you recall my earlier rant, there was no way I would take an impressionable child to such a violent spectacle that was in no way related to a sporting event. Plus I didn’t want to subject a number (29) of other patrons who attended that weekday matinee to my screaming child. Instead I subjected my neighbors to my screaming child for the whole time.
We’re not real big users of babysitters. Mostly that’s because I love my child and can think of nothing in this world that I would rather do than exclusively interact with her for hour after hour, day after day, without end, until I get so sick of yelling “no Abbie, babies do not eat dog food” for the eight-thousandth time that I just want to roll up into a whimpering ball and shut out all outside stimuli until Abbie leaves for college. Also, babysitters usually expect to be paid, and, well, I’m cheap. This was a special occasion, though. This was Star Wars: Episode Three, the absolute final time to see a brand new feature-length Star Wars film unless George Lucas needs more money really bad, and more money than yet another repackaging of the original movies will generate. We decided to indulge in our last chance to see some sweet lightsaber action on the big screen, and the neighbors were nice enough to take Abbie for a few hours. Our neighbors are have several children, and are very nice people, so nice that they would never accept payment for a chore as potentially scarring as babysitting. So I whipped up some cupcakes as payment, because while some people will turn down money, nobody turns down cupcakes.
Watching Abbie this afternoon should have been a simple chore. They take her, read to her for a few minutes, let her roam freely about the house with the other children for a little while, lay her down for a nap, feed her some formula when she wakes up, then we return to a happy and refreshed baby with cupcakes in hand. Abbie, not being a fan of making anything simple, greatly complicated things by screaming pretty much the entire time. She started when we left, continued through the time she that should have spent napping, and ended when we returned. Actually, the screaming ended three hours later at bedtime because nothing makes a baby crankier than missing her nap. This behavior was very agitating since we’ve surrendered Abbie to babysitting before without incident. The behavior does tie into the personality she’s developing, specifically the “I know what I want, and if I don’t get my way I’m going to scream until I get it” trait. I’m anxiously awaiting the day when her response to not getting her way softens from screaming to sulking. I was so mortified by her behavior at the neighbor’s that I made sure to throw some M&M’s on those cupcakes.
* Quick review: The dialog generally ranged from bad to downright laughable. The fighting and exploding stuff was cool, though.
We’re not real big users of babysitters. Mostly that’s because I love my child and can think of nothing in this world that I would rather do than exclusively interact with her for hour after hour, day after day, without end, until I get so sick of yelling “no Abbie, babies do not eat dog food” for the eight-thousandth time that I just want to roll up into a whimpering ball and shut out all outside stimuli until Abbie leaves for college. Also, babysitters usually expect to be paid, and, well, I’m cheap. This was a special occasion, though. This was Star Wars: Episode Three, the absolute final time to see a brand new feature-length Star Wars film unless George Lucas needs more money really bad, and more money than yet another repackaging of the original movies will generate. We decided to indulge in our last chance to see some sweet lightsaber action on the big screen, and the neighbors were nice enough to take Abbie for a few hours. Our neighbors are have several children, and are very nice people, so nice that they would never accept payment for a chore as potentially scarring as babysitting. So I whipped up some cupcakes as payment, because while some people will turn down money, nobody turns down cupcakes.
Watching Abbie this afternoon should have been a simple chore. They take her, read to her for a few minutes, let her roam freely about the house with the other children for a little while, lay her down for a nap, feed her some formula when she wakes up, then we return to a happy and refreshed baby with cupcakes in hand. Abbie, not being a fan of making anything simple, greatly complicated things by screaming pretty much the entire time. She started when we left, continued through the time she that should have spent napping, and ended when we returned. Actually, the screaming ended three hours later at bedtime because nothing makes a baby crankier than missing her nap. This behavior was very agitating since we’ve surrendered Abbie to babysitting before without incident. The behavior does tie into the personality she’s developing, specifically the “I know what I want, and if I don’t get my way I’m going to scream until I get it” trait. I’m anxiously awaiting the day when her response to not getting her way softens from screaming to sulking. I was so mortified by her behavior at the neighbor’s that I made sure to throw some M&M’s on those cupcakes.
* Quick review: The dialog generally ranged from bad to downright laughable. The fighting and exploding stuff was cool, though.
posted by Matt at
10:45 PM
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