It was different when I was growing up. My dad worked at the college and when he and mom had to go to an event, we’d have a student over. We liked the guys best because they would get us to do our homework fast then play a board game or twirl us around.
Ag age 12, I was paid to take care of my three younger siblings while my parents went to work functions. At first I delighted in sending my sister (18 months younger) to bed at bedtime. Then I wanted her up to watch for our parents to come up the hill. We always expected disaster, looking out the dining room windows, but were rewarded as they came up the driveway.
Our cars were not locked, nor were our doors. I went on to sit for many people, $.50 an hour, during my high school years. I had to call my mother in when taking care of five kids, and the eldest was four. There were three year-old twins and a four month-old baby and the four year-old knew which twin was which and where the diapers were. He was old beyond his years. Their mother had to get away for 2-3 hours every afternoon just to keep her sanity by shopping or playing bridge. At least that’s what she said to me when I was 15.
One woman had her husband pay me $2 an hour because their kids were a handful. They weren’t for me but I think he was having an affair and felt guilty. While sitting for them, I watched Rich Man, Poor Man and fell in love with Nick Nolte.
Then there was the kid who got naked, went into the back yard and peed on a tree. I told his mother about it and was told this is the “natural way.” I should embrace it. In the long term, perhaps the tree didn’t agree with this philosophy.
In my 20’s I started taking care of dogs, then cats et al. I got my own cat, dog and another cat and we had a nice life. Then I met my husband. First cat and dog were dead, I was present when they were necessarily euthanized. The younger cat was adopted by a neighbor and led a good life, my husband is deathly allergic to cats.
Now I find myself finding a sitter for a dog we’ve now had for seven years. Several people have come forward and all were excellent dog-sitters. Zoe loves all of them, but there’s an eight year-old girl who really loves Zoe and has first dibs when we go out of town.
Last weekend C allowed the other neighborhood dogs to play with Zoe in a controlled manner and re-invigorated our dog. She doesn’t mind puppies so much and is more reluctant to play the “old lady” card. Thanks, C!
So if you’re looking for a good babysitter, consider a dog sitter. Maybe not, but know that many people make a difference in a young person’s life. I like to think I turned out OK partly because of the college guys that played board games with us, my Aunt Anna who bragged about her NYC taxi medallion (she died two weeks after she visited), and perhaps my parents and godparents and Aunt Lorna and Joanie.
Life goes on, the babysitter needs one and so it goes. Thanks to all the great babysitters and nannies (that’s what rich people have). Cheers, Dee
Cooking with Dee 