I never liked babysitting. I did it anyway because it was the only way for a teenager to make money without having to a) apply and interview for anything and b) work with food. I really didn't like having to try to figure out what to do with the kids for _____ hours until their parents came home. I hated changing diapers. I was absolutely no good when it came to discipline issues. I just let the kids watch movies and play until their parents came home. For the most part, it went okay, but it gave me no joy.
Flash forward almost 20 years later and I still can't stand babysitting. Except now, they're my own kids. I might sound like the worst mom ever right now, but please trust me when I say this isn't always how I feel. Just right now. I keep staving off the urge to gather them both up and lock them with their father in his office while I take a bubble bath and file my toenails.
One is crying because...well, who the hell knows. I just fed him, just changed him, just cuddled him, just gave him tooth drops. I don't know what his deal is. He just wants to cry on my knee while I'm typing and slobber all over my pants. Occasionally, he'll try to bully my hands away from the keyboard. I don't appreciate that. I get the feeling that he just wants me to lug him around all day.
I'm not 27 months pregnant, WeeMan. I don't have a convenient kangaroo pouch to tuck you into. You know, if you were a bird, I would have kicked your ass out of the house by now.
The other one, my girl, is whining at me. It's typical 3-year old behavior, but I don't care. I don't want to hear it. She wants a cheese. I get her some and sit back down to finish...whatever it is I'm doing. No sooner do I get sat down and she's whining because she wants water. It turns into a 10 minute long battle because I refuse to acknowledge her until she talks like a normal person. I still can't get jack shit done. This repeats all damn day: I want water, I want to play in my room, I want to play games, I want to color, I want food, I need to go potty....
Speaking of potty, she's in the bathroom every 5 minutes. Which means, when I'm not getting up to get her one of the 40,000 things she thinks she needs, I'm having to go find out if she's really going to the bathroom, or if she's just playing in the medicine cabinet or squirting shampoo all over the floor.
And then this isn't even accounting for the fact that both kids are climbing all over me and/or literally in my face. I really have a hard time with being physically confined and this is just way too much negative stimuli for me.
My solutions
For the girl: time out and time in her room. I think one hour would give me enough time to stop eyeballing the roll of duct tape.
For the boy: I actually did just lock him in the office with his father. Mr. A's been pissy with me all morning and he's decided to keep to himself. Surprise! It's a crying, clinging, snotty, screaming baby boy. Congratulations.
"Knowing is half the battle." - G.I. Joe
