On how babies are made…again:
Remember when I wrote about my youngest son asking me how babies are made? I can’t find the dang post to link to. But I told him that Mommies and Daddies have a special hug and it puts a baby in the Mommies tummy. That’s the story I have given all my children until they were old enough to know the truth…by learning it in school.
He was good with that explanation. For about a minute.
Until yesterday, when we were driving to school (which is when all our deep conversations seem to occur) he demanded to know what happens during a special hug that causes a baby to get into the tummy. I sputtered, snorted and grunted and told him that I couldn’t talk about it right this second. We were driving and I was unprepared with an age appropriate answer.
I looked at him in the rear view mirror. He looked back at me. And he ROLLED his eyes. With a snotty tone, he asked me if the reason I couldn’t tell him was because he is too young. I told him yes, that’s the exact reason. And he said OK.
Off the hook…for now.
But then, he changed direction. He moved on to asking me how babies get out of tummies.
I explained that sometimes the doctors have to make a little hole in the Mommy’s tummy to take the baby out and that’s called a c-section. Other times the Mommy pushes them out of the vagina.
He responded with a big EW that’s gross.
I told him that his oldest brother was a c-section. He was fascinated. He came up with this whole theory that when the doctors took his brother out of my tummy, that I could see all my other babies that were just hanging out, waiting to be born. And he wondered if they were waving to me. He also asked if I saw him and his sister in there.
It is going to be pretty hard to explain the whole thing to him because he is pretty content in this story that he concocted.
We are very lucky. We have a couple of really great babysitters. But there is one thing that drives me insane. More than not getting the kids to bed at a reasonable time.
The freaking mess.
My house is relatively messy. Not horrible. But slightly cluttered. I straighten it up a ton. But, it’s impossible to get it to perfection, especially when I have 6 other forces working against me.
Then, enter our beloved sitter.
It’s date night, although I NEVER call it that because, well…I just don’t. I guess I’m not romantic. Besides, going to Target or grocery shopping is hardly going out on a date.
We leave. We go on our…date. We come home. To a big freaking mess. Like WAY bigger than the one that we left.
And it’s left for me to clean up.
Pisses me right off. Like, buzz kill and mood kill alleging that I’d been drinking and was in the mood.
But really? I’ve had a bazillion babysitters over the years. And I’ve only had one that cleaned up the messes that the kids made. When I say cleaned up, I mean she cleaned my whole house after she put the kids to bed. Then, she’d spray her perfume, which I am SURE was super expensive except it smelled like an old folks home.
But coming home to a clean house that smelled like rotting old person corpse was better than coming home to a mess of a house that smells like…well…rotting dog shit.
And those, my friends, are the thoughts that I leave you with for today.
I’m pretty sure I used to clean up after the kids i babysat for…at least I hope I did. I can only imagine how pissed I would be to come home to a disaster zone. Yeah yeah the kids are alright and alive and whatever but pulling out the cleaning products at the end of the night is not something I would look forward to. Lucky for us we’ve been able to talk my sister into babysitting for us so I’ve never had to try the local babysitting talent.
.-= Marilyn´s last blog ..Snow =-.
Courtney Velasquez (@theappleofmyeye) says
You know what I think is worse than that? When you come home after your hubby has been watching the kids and the house is a wreck! At least they know where things kinda go to clean it up. Talk about bad way to end the evening! Makes me want to turn right around and leave again!
.-= Courtney Velasquez (@theappleofmyeye)´s last blog ..My Heart is Heavy For Shellie Ross =-.
Joni Golden says
I only babysat for people my parents knew, and if I had left a mess, two things would have happened: 1) My mother would have been told and 2) there would have been a punishment of some sort. But it would never have happened, because I would have been embarrassed to leave a bigger mess than I walked into. And I’ve always been kind of a people-pleaser.
Maybe you should leave a list for the sitter. #1 would be “You mess it up, you clean it up.”
.-= Joni Golden´s last blog ..Welcome to Michigan Women’s Forum! =-.
I think it’s time that the babysitter learned the hard facts about the economy – that there are plenty of others out there ready, willing and able to take the job.
Ah yes. I just got to have the conversation with my boys the other day about how they were removed from my belly through a hole that the doctor made, but that sometimes babies come out from between their mommies’ legs.
That was fun.
Thankfully they haven’t asked how they got there in the first place yet.
Which will be VERY fun considering the whole divorcing-your-father thing.
.-= TeacherMommy´s last blog ..Boylets, Brothers, and Bragging =-.
The Retired One says
The babysitter is spraying perfume because she probably is smoking in your house…better confront her about that one.
And the others? Just tell them your expectations….tell her to please pick up the house after the kids are put to bed as part of her job. She will want to get paid, so voila! problems solved. ha
.-= The Retired One´s last blog ..Travel Observations =-.
To tach youngsters abouit the basic facts of life I recommend the childrens book HOW BABIES ARE MADE (Time Life Books).
For baby-sitting parents should read ALL ABOUT BABY-SITTING (Non-Fiction Publications).
our old babysitter was the best bebysitter in teh history of the world. not only did she clean up after the kids, she would often cook them dinner too. And once she actually spent the whole evening sitting in the dark because my son refused to close his door and she didn’t want to wake him up with any light from the living room. She was brilliant and i loved her so much. Then we stupidly had to move away – something about getting a new job and a bigger house. Harrumph. Now we will never have another babysitter even half as good as she was.
.-= kate´s last blog ..When Tragedy Strikes =-.