Every other Sunday when Todd has to work, our baby-sitter comes to watch the kids so I can go to chorus. She’s a darling high school girl who lives on our street. She can redirect Riley and have her calm quicker than most trained professionals. Being a cool teenager carries a lot of clout. She even got them through it when Seth took a dive and bloodied his nose. You see, it was a disaster on two counts, Seth crying and bleeding, and Riley who DOES NOT DO BLOOD.
When I left last Sunday, a Dar Williams song came on in the car, and it occurred to me we have a baby-sitter. A real, regular baby-sitter. I cried a little. For so many years we have not had any support, and I mean none.
Todd and I have only had two weekends away together in nine years (and one of them was for an autism conference and I was sick so it doesn’t count). We’ve never lived near family, and there was never anyone we felt we could leave them with due to all the special needs and instructions. No weekly dates. No monthly dates. I’m sure there were times we went years.
Our baby-sitter’s mom thinks we pay her too much. I thank her profusely when she comes and again when she leaves and she looks at me like I’m a little crazy. A little too grateful.
She has no idea what it means to us to be able to leave the kids, leave Riley, and be able to have a bit of adult freedom. She has no idea how much we appreciate her.
Riley and Seth both adore her. It’s happy all around when she arrives. Hurray! The Baby-sitter’s here!
*Do not miss the video. It is precious.