babies, Baby-sitters Club

Everybody’s Working For The Weekend

Well, except me.  I kind of like my weekdays better than my weekends right now.  The only reason that I look forward to weekends is because I get to sleep in. 

I’m pretty sure I have the best job in the world.  I get paid to do what I always imagined I would do for free:  Take care of kids.

I’ve been baby-sitting since forever ago, as soon as anyone would hire me.  I read a lot of Baby-Sitters Club books (actually I still do because every time I add a title to my collection I read it) so I was convinced that baby-sitting was the coolest thing ever.  Heck, I even tried to start my OWN baby-sitting club.  Since I was 12 and lived 15 minutes from anything really resembling civilization, it was a bit impractical.

Since then I have had “real” jobs, but eventually I ended up “nannying” (I call my grandma Nanny, so I kind of hate being referred to as a nanny) for a little while, and eventually the opportunity to watch a baby at my house arose.  I jumped on the opportunity, although leaving the baby I was watching made me sad.  I really felt like it was an answer to my prayers.  I really wanted to be a housewife, but I like earning some extra money, and I am fairly certain that after a few months I would be EXTREMELY bored, being home alone, without transportation, every day.

Now I get the best of both worlds.  And the little girl I stopped watching ended up coming to my house for childcare about 6 months later, so now I watch her and her little brother too!

I very rarely sit on the kids I baby-sit 😛

I love having the kids at my house.  It is really fun, and other than having to get up early, it doesn’t seem like work (with my new plan of running in the AM I won’t be getting up to watch the kids, I will already be up!).  In fact I enjoy it so much, that sometimes I feel mildly guilty that I get paid for it.  Going to the park, reading stories, coloring, and dancing around like an idiot are not things for which you get paid.  Then I remember that if I don’t get paid I have to go back to a regular job if I want to be able to buy my house and have ANY extra money at the end of the month and I feel a little better.  Or someone has an explosive diaper and I accidentally get some on my finger.  Then I feel WAY better about getting paid.


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