I was raised in the belief that God will never give you more to handle than you are able with God’s help. There have been many instances in my life when I’ve leaned on that belief to get me through. Yesterday was one of those days.
It all started the night before. Dave and I were crashed on the couch catching up on last Sunday’s episode of the Mentalist. I was playing WordWelder on my I Pad and mentally looking forward to the next day. Tuesday is one of my “free” days; meaning I’m not committed to any one activity. My plans included a haircut and then a dash to Kroger to take advantage of “senior” citizen discounts. (Kroger deems you a senior at 55.) It was going to be a good day.
Then the doorbell rang.
Dave and I looked at each other. It was 9:30 and we weren’t expecting anyone. In the knowledge that nothing good can come of opening your door after dark, I think Dave was waiting for me to get up. I decided as a member the “weaker sex” I would sit back and let him suck it up and go to the door.
On the other side of the front door, in the dark was our neighbor from across the street. She’d had a family emergency come up that would require all the adult members of her household to be away for a couple of hours the following morning and was in need of someone to babysit for her two youngest sons. Since I had no other pressing business the next day other than my long-awaited hair appointment, I agreed to help her out.
It was the right thing to do, but it was also frightening. I didn’t know her children other than to wave to them, and the youngest two were 10 months and 2 years old; or should I say young!
It’s been a very long time since I’ve had charge to wee ones. It’s been almost thirty years since I brought me last baby home and even my grandchildren’s ages are in double digits! What was I going to do with two unknown very little boys?
I said some prayers and hit the deck running first thing in the morning. I picked up the assortment of cat toys strewn on the family room floor as well as any potential choking hazards or heaving things that could be pulled down on a baby. Then I grabbed some on my “Nana” toys I thought might interest the boys. As I was taking one last look around, I noticed the entourage of adults and children heading across the street so I ducked into the powder room for one last time. Moments later, the doorbell rang again.
In just a couple of minutes, my entryway held a pile of baby paraphernalia and I had one wee one by the hand and another tucked upon my hip. It was just like old times!
For the next four hours, my little charges and I got along just fine. As kids go, Chase and Ethan were fairly easy-going. The baby had a runny nose that required a lot of wiping and made it difficult for him to take his bottle. His appetite was good though and I enjoyed sitting him on my lap and feeding him his toddler dinner with my little baby spoon.
It all came back to me; cooking with a baby on my hip, the nose wiping, the formula mixing. I was able to figure out how to assemble the pac’n’play which turned out to be a life saver. Ethan was a fast mover and after chasing him for a couple of hours, I needed a break.
After lunch I there was a definite change in the atmosphere in the family room. I asked Chase if he’d pooped his pants. No, he said. I asked again, reassuring him that I wouldn’t yell at him if he had. He admitted that he had. Then I asked if he’d be more comfortable in clean pants. Yes, he agreed. So we went into the kitchen to clean him up. I thought he’d just lie on the rug, but he assumed a position very similar to a Yoga “downward dog”. It proved to be efficient, but nonetheless, a stinky, gag-filled experience, I am embarrassed to admit.
In many ways, spending the morning with Chase and Ethan was the perfect storm; a way to reconnect with my baby tending skills so I will be ready for my next wave of grandchildren in the next few years or so. By the time they were picked up, they were clean, happy and luckily ready to leave!
Sadly, I don’t have the stamina I had thirty years ago. I still made me trip to Kroger but felt like I was dragging the whole way through the store even though I stopped by the Starbucks counter first!
Once I was home and plopped in my chair for a rest, I was content. Spending the morning with little ones was an adventure, but it was also full of cuddles, giggles and warmth. I don’t know how I did it so many years ago when Dave was busy cruising with the Navy, the memories are so foggy. I do know that I wasn’t alone.