This is Nothing Like Babysitting

I did lots and lots of babysitting as a teenager. Thought I could rely on those years of training with all the kids I had taken care of along the way. HA!! That gap of some fifteen years in addition to skills now gone rusty made bringing our little bundle home a whole new ballgame. Kind of like being a grandparent. Love the grandkids. Spoil the grandkids. Send them home. Watch the neighbor's son and daughter for a few hours. Play. Read. Color a few pictures. Go home. No muss. No fuss.

First of all let me state that if EVER I hear someone in the future say that a new mother will know what an infant needs by the sound of their cry I will call them CRAZY to their face. I had no idea if our son was hungry or wet or mad or sad or any of that. I just went down that checklist in the last sentance and tried to figure it out. Then I kept him all wrapped up like a papoose because that's what they did in the hospital....until my mother calmly asked me if I walked around the house tightly wrapped up in a blanket. And I scrubbed everything 2 or 3 or 4 times to make sure whatever came in contract with the baby was germ-free. To which a good friend calmly said, and I quote: "Babies survive in Ethiopia, you know." So I only scrubbed two times after that.

I wasn't very good at sharing either. Especially at first. I was extremely possessive. Didn't let family members or friends hold him for 'too' long a time. Made me nervous. I eventually learned to 'exhale' and got comfortable with the fact that those who wanted to have him in their arms for a while would be extra-special careful. Babies do that to people. They bring out the best in us.

We read and we rocked. Bathed him and sang to him. Gasped the first time he did the little boy arch of water during a diaper change....and laughed whenever it happened again because we were prepared with a quick washcloth. We took pictures. We would stare and study him, memorizing each tiny feature. Every little expression. Listened to all the sounds he made. Rained kisses on his soft cheeks and downy head. Those were the moments I knew it didn't matter if I remembered all the details from my Red Cross Babysitting Class lessons. What we did know was that a far greater hand was leading us and teaching us. What we didn't know was that He was also slowly preparing us for the adventures yet to be.....