Wednesday, January 12, 2011

There's little comfort...
in the realization that I am as good a babysitter now as when I was a teenager.  I was a terrible babysitter.  My mother became tired of having to 'rescue' me and advised that I get out of the business.  (The deciding event being my calling for help when I was trying to subdue a very hefty naked toddler so that I could pin on a cloth diaper.  As with most things, practice makes perfect.  By the time I was finished with the diaper business in my house, I could securely pin a double diaper in the dark while half asleep.  But when I was 14 my prospects did not appear to be good.)

I babysat Lily and Maddie yesterday.   It went well - since two of the girls were home to help me - with Eddie, Chuck, and Grandpa passing through intermittently.  "Ransom of Red Chief" time.  Seriously, folks: I don't know how grandparents are able to rise to a difficult occasion and raise their own grandchildren.  I suppose  the skills can be revived.  But I sure wasn't able to find the lady who was able to talk on the phone, watch a toddler, and make tofu cookies with one hand while carrying a baby in a sling.  I think she's gone; the flummoxed teenager has returned.

[Oh, and we found out the hard way that Lily is terrified by Eddie's remote controlled helicopter.  We thought she might find it amusing.  She didn't.]

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St. Isidore Foundation

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-- Michelangelo, quoted in Vasari's Lives of the Artists

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(not all the same child)
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