After seeing my last post and reading that I took my kids hiking, a lovely lady left a comment to tell me that I’m “the coolest Mom ever”. Apparently, I need to set the record straight.
I am not a cool Mom. I don’t even really like kids. I mean, I love my own…and thank goodness I love their friends. For now anyway, they are all well-behaved, kind, and clean.
I think my lack of coolness around little ones started when I began babysitting at the age of thirteen. I took a Red Cross class, I took CPR, and I checked out How-To books on managing children from the local library. I was excited. I was ready!
My first job was to babysit my three year old cousin. It was shortly after Halloween, and before I arrived, this sweet little girl had ingested a mountain of Smarties. As I was helping her brush her teeth before bed she said, “I think I need to get to the toileURGH”, at which point a massive amount of vomit poured out of her and all over the floor. We were two feet away from the sink and just inches from the toilet, but she didn’t make it to either of them.
So I did what any babysitter would do. I called my Mommy.
While I heard my Mom gagging upstairs as she threw puke covered paper towels into a trash can, I watched my cousin’s dog lick regurgitated Smarties off her pajamas. Then I sat on the steps, cried, and I thought about how I would never, ever watch kids again. I would just look at them from a distance.
Just a few months later, my Mom was babysitting my nephew when he threw up at various places throughout our house. What is it with the vomiting?! The next time I was forced into watching him, I ended up walking him in circles around our neighborhood for hours…in the 40 degree chill…just so that if he spewed, I wouldn’t have to clean it up.
For a germophobe like me, runny noses, dirty fingers, boogers, poo…and vomit…are sometimes too much to handle. Throw in some back-talk and bad manners from kids you don’t know well enough to punish, and watch Momo run longingly to the nearest tall person for some adult company.
But, I did take my kids hiking. And, wouldn’t you know that as we were eating our picnic lunch, my six year old son choked on his sandwich and threw up. At least we were outside…no clean-up required.
See? I’m only cool when it’s convenient.