Happiness is a Child's Smile?
When my family moved into a new neighborhood while I was in middle school, a neighborhood directory was put out where my name had an asterisk next to it denoting 'babysitter.' I don't think my parents had anything to do with this; I think the neighborhood just assumed that female + certain age = babysitter. But my parents were always trying to get me to advertise myself as a babysitter. They didn't understand my resistance and instead said that babysitting was "easy money."
There is nothing easy about battling young children who are dying for attention since mommy and daddy went away.
Some of my "favorite" babysitting encounters include a little boy who liked to pin his sister down and repeatedly punch her in the face while their parents were gone. Next to that was the time I babysat three children ages 2, 4, and 6. The six year old liked getting naked and running around, the four year old liked urinating on the walls, and the two year old just cried all four hours I was there.
Just because I was most recently a child at the time (compared to the parents) doesn't mean I know what to do with them. The last thing I want is for a kid's parents to come home while one of them is naked. And the more flustered you get the more the kids love it.
No, I know nothing about babysitting or children in general.
In the community service group I was a member of in college, there were lots of opportunities to work with children. Most people loved these, and I always watched in awe as they played with them... running around, rolling around, funny faces, sassing back and forth... it was like these people had access to some hidden children-only language or a guide to being hip with kids. Whereas kids always knew in one second of looking at me that I was not "kid-friendly."
Now, don't get me wrong, I like kids very much and it's not like children everywhere start throwing empty cans at me when I walk by. I just don't know what to do with them. I don't really even know how to play with them or what they like to do. I just stand around awkwardly and mildly afraid.
Why afraid? Because in my experience, "kids say the darndest things." You never know what they're about to come out with, and it's probably something totally embarrassing. Like many years ago when boyfriend and I were at the Walmart cash register and a little girl came up to me and said, "You look like a boy!"
Of course, this girl had confirmed a horrible fear I had at that time... that I am boyish, completely without grace, femininity, and any fashion know-how, not sexy, undesirable, and even gawky. I pushed boyfriend ahead of me and out the door. The little girl scuttled behind us calling out, "You do! 'Cause yer dressed like one!" By this time it was a full-scale retreat. Boyfriend was shoved and manhandled into the car (oh God! Manhandled! She's right again!) and we peeled out of that parking lot.
I began to feel that kids can see things adults can't (or maybe it's really that everyone sees it, kids just don't have the tact not to say it). A kid can look at you and know whether you'd be a good playmate or you're an awkward miser. That's why I would like to note that yesterday I had my first truly pleasant experience with a child.
An adorable girl around 1 year old was on the train with her parents as I was riding home last night. She got fussy in her stroller, so her dad took her out and let her kick around and half stand on his lap. They tried to give her a bottle which she didn't seem to want, but when they finally took it away she liked that even less. I couldn't help but look over, well, stare, at this squirmy little thing, and she finally noticed me.
Her face just lit up. She had the sweetest smile. I understand now all those quotes about a child's smile being angelic and this and that. It really actually warmed me to have her give me that full face grin. She was absolutely gleeful.
Throughout the rest of the trip I'd look over and she'd look back and smile. I would wave and she would kick her legs and make a furious noise.
Maybe this peace I've made with children is only temporary and next week they'll be spouting my hidden fears again. But I'd really prefer to think of it as a change in me, some level of acceptance with myself or comfortableness. Sticking with my strange 'children can see your soul theory,' I like to think that this little girl could finally recognize some warmth and love in me that I knew was there but was terrified of being seen.
There is nothing easy about battling young children who are dying for attention since mommy and daddy went away.
Some of my "favorite" babysitting encounters include a little boy who liked to pin his sister down and repeatedly punch her in the face while their parents were gone. Next to that was the time I babysat three children ages 2, 4, and 6. The six year old liked getting naked and running around, the four year old liked urinating on the walls, and the two year old just cried all four hours I was there.
Just because I was most recently a child at the time (compared to the parents) doesn't mean I know what to do with them. The last thing I want is for a kid's parents to come home while one of them is naked. And the more flustered you get the more the kids love it.
No, I know nothing about babysitting or children in general.
In the community service group I was a member of in college, there were lots of opportunities to work with children. Most people loved these, and I always watched in awe as they played with them... running around, rolling around, funny faces, sassing back and forth... it was like these people had access to some hidden children-only language or a guide to being hip with kids. Whereas kids always knew in one second of looking at me that I was not "kid-friendly."
Now, don't get me wrong, I like kids very much and it's not like children everywhere start throwing empty cans at me when I walk by. I just don't know what to do with them. I don't really even know how to play with them or what they like to do. I just stand around awkwardly and mildly afraid.
Why afraid? Because in my experience, "kids say the darndest things." You never know what they're about to come out with, and it's probably something totally embarrassing. Like many years ago when boyfriend and I were at the Walmart cash register and a little girl came up to me and said, "You look like a boy!"
Of course, this girl had confirmed a horrible fear I had at that time... that I am boyish, completely without grace, femininity, and any fashion know-how, not sexy, undesirable, and even gawky. I pushed boyfriend ahead of me and out the door. The little girl scuttled behind us calling out, "You do! 'Cause yer dressed like one!" By this time it was a full-scale retreat. Boyfriend was shoved and manhandled into the car (oh God! Manhandled! She's right again!) and we peeled out of that parking lot.
I began to feel that kids can see things adults can't (or maybe it's really that everyone sees it, kids just don't have the tact not to say it). A kid can look at you and know whether you'd be a good playmate or you're an awkward miser. That's why I would like to note that yesterday I had my first truly pleasant experience with a child.
An adorable girl around 1 year old was on the train with her parents as I was riding home last night. She got fussy in her stroller, so her dad took her out and let her kick around and half stand on his lap. They tried to give her a bottle which she didn't seem to want, but when they finally took it away she liked that even less. I couldn't help but look over, well, stare, at this squirmy little thing, and she finally noticed me.
Her face just lit up. She had the sweetest smile. I understand now all those quotes about a child's smile being angelic and this and that. It really actually warmed me to have her give me that full face grin. She was absolutely gleeful.
Throughout the rest of the trip I'd look over and she'd look back and smile. I would wave and she would kick her legs and make a furious noise.
Maybe this peace I've made with children is only temporary and next week they'll be spouting my hidden fears again. But I'd really prefer to think of it as a change in me, some level of acceptance with myself or comfortableness. Sticking with my strange 'children can see your soul theory,' I like to think that this little girl could finally recognize some warmth and love in me that I knew was there but was terrified of being seen.
Labels: kids
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