One of the realest moments in motherhood thus far, second only to when my children were actually coming out of me, was leaving them with a babysitter. I have accepted that I am old enough to now be someone’s mother, but how can I be old enough to need a babysitter?
It has taken tiny-micro steps to get here since my children are certifiably obsessed with me, which sounds endearing and lovely until I actually need to walk out the door. If I could go back in time and tell my 13 year old babysitting self the following forms of flattery and finesse, I could have charged a whole lot more than $5 an hour:
1). Your kids are brilliant and independently-minded, which is obviously a testament to your exceptional parenting abilities.
2). Your children are gorgeous and even though they are Caucasian, they could be in Gap ads.
3). I was able to find everything I needed because of your Martha Stewart, and not at all Type A, organizational skills.
4). We ran laps at the park because I knew it would help them sleep well for you tonight.
5). While your kids were sharing beautifully, I took it upon myself to mop the floor, fold the laundry (minus your undies, because, well, boundaries) and cook you dinner.
6). Lastly, and most importantly, absolutely no new developmental milestones were reached while you were gone.