The Secret Life of the Babysitter

I can't find the tablespoon. The bib is in the wrong place. Can't she at least clean up after Harvey's trails? Why are there toys in the middle of the hallway - which I tripped on and nearly caused yet another pain in my behind? How come the crib tent wasn't zipped up? The blinds weren't drawn. I can't risk having sunlight wake up my 8 AM snoozer... Another book cover was wrinkled and destroyed - which I neglected to shelve because it JUST ARRIVED!!

Joe to Laura: "Well maybe we should put the good books away so they don't get hurt"
Laura: "Yes, but he should have access to books. He has to be trained not to hurt books. ALL books should be treated like library books. Books are sacred. The babysitters need to catch him in the act and correct the behavior! Harvey needs to learn...."
Joe: "Honey, I am hungry. Can we talk about this after dinner?"

How come none of this ever happens on my watch? I don't consider myself supermom. But at least I can remember to turn on the sleep music CD. It is bad enough that my microwave smells permanently of artificial butter from that disgusting bagged popcorn they bring through here...





Yes folks, you got it. I am getting a really hard course in letting go. In all of the parenting books they prepare you for the crabby, sick, bored, hungry, stubborn and uncoordinated toddler. I expect him to test my patience. What the books don't tell you, however, is that if you are the kind of person that likes things a certain way (e.g.: always start with vegetables and protein and then save the starches and fruit for dessert otherwise carbohydrate baby will just stuff himself with pasta and have no room for the other good stuff.) then get ready to let it go. What was that book? Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...and it's all small stuff.

Babysitters sometimes leave some cute tracks - like the scrap paper I found the other day with fancy wedding style handwriting: "Suzie and Jonathan; Rachel and Ben; Sarah and Aaron" (names have been changed to protect sitters from embarassment)

There is one cardinal sin that cannot be forgiven:

The nightly use of duct tape is NOT optional!

Last night the sitter neglected to tape up the toddler and when I went in to check on him at midnight,

(to my HORROR)

there was a poop stench in the air and a naked baby sleeping amongst dozens of little poop-lets (and a few big ones too. Sorry, I am not sparing anyone tonight). I quickly performed the necessary sugical proceedures (re-diapering, taping, de-pooping the crib, changing the sheet) and returned HS to his bed. Thankfully he slept through the whole thing. Harvey, please, please, won't you please keep your pants on???

n.b. If you are one of Harvey's beloved sitters, don't worry, we still love you. I just needed to blog this one out of my system.

Making Messes and Maountains

Helping Mommy Put Away Groceries.

Harvey WUZ Here

He does this several times everyday. Dumps the drawers and makes them into boats. This sometimes occupies him for hours

PDIS

Poor Joe came home sick from NYC on Thursday night. I don't even think he got much of a Harvey Peek when he came in the door; it was straight to bed! The next day I had plans to go to the orchestra with an old friend. It was her treat - best box seats in the house and a toothsome lunch beforehand at Estia on Locust. (I am still marvelling at how this place managed to go above Upper East Side prices for simple mediterranean fish, soup and a salad!) Martha Argerich graced Verizon Hall with Beethoven's second and afterwards the Orchestra continued the transcendental experience with Rimsky's Scherazade. The day was an absolute fairytale.

Meanwhile Harvey was babysitting his sick Dad and doing double duty as "Drawer Dumper". I returned home (trying not to feel guilty for abandoning sick-ship all day) armed with chamomile tea (2 for $4 at Genuardi's - store brand. I decided not to buy the luxury chamomile at $4.49 per box) and hot chicken soup from the deli. I opened the front door to discover that Harvey had been victorious over every shelf of books, every drawer of linens, and every last article of clothing that had already seen the floor 10 times this week. This week was the week I stopped folding the clothes before putting them back in the drawers.

There was a lot of cleanin' up to do.

Joe was limp as a rag in bed.

I set him up with soup and tea and then headed for the baby war zone.

I giggled to myself as I surveyed the damage , "What if I just left this place looking like this until the toothfairy comes to clean it up!" There was not a second to even contemplate picking anything up, because at this point the H-man was in full hunger mode, roaring and carrying on, reaching his arms up towards the soup pot with injured eyes as if to say, "How come Daddy got dinner and I didn't! No fair!" I set him up in his chair and tried to think of a quick dinner plan. Unfortunately I had thinned the soup quite a bit since Joe's stomach was in a delicate state, so I knew that transferring the soup into Harvey's mouth might be too sloppy and inefficient.

Sippy Cup and Straw!!! Yeah Yeah, that's it!

That worked for a few minutes until HS chewed the straw permanently closed and started cramming little fingers into the cup reaching for chicken and noodle chunks and splashing stuff all over. OY! So I dumped everything on a plate and gave him a fork and decided to just let him do his thing. He was having such a good time of it. Chuckling and giggling. Sheer pleasure - all of it. Splashing soup on his shirt and getting noodles and broth EVERYWHERE. What a royal mess. I started to laugh out loud which made Harvey laugh even harder. Soon we were going full blast in a laughing dialogue when the BUZZER RANG. (scary music)

Uh oh! I thought my student was coming NEXT Friday. A quick glance at the calendar confirmed I was Wrong Wrong Wrong and my student was HERE HERE HERE.

Now I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. Should I start throwing things in the closet? A garbage bag? Should I meet her in the hallway and tell her a bomb hit? I decided to face the embarrasment of exposing the results of the recent toddler attack. My student and her mother laughed out loud when I let them in and explained our situation. In fact, I actually became PROUD of this mess. "Look what my boy accomplished today," I was beaming from ear to ear.

I found out what the diagnosis of my condition is:

Parental Delusional Insanity Syndrome (PDIS)

PS Joe reported to me tonight that the store brand of chamomile was not very good...

All in a Day's Work

Harvey is getting pretty good at putting together IKEA furniture. He now insists on helping. Sometimes this is cute, but it can get very frustrating when he gets into the little bag with all of the hardware. In the blink of an eye he can walk off with some little special screw. Actually this happened yesterday and we had to drive all the way back to IKEA to get a little itty bitty screw that was about the size of his fingernail. While we were there I bought one of those sets of drawer organizers for the bedroom. Of course what is the point of organizing drawers with this monkey in the house? About every 3 days or so he declares "drawer dumping day". It's getting tougher and sweeter as time goes on.

Toddlerhood is Here to Stay

He's climbing. It's official. We bought him a little table and chairs and the first thing he did was to stand on top of it (and fall off) He's got all four molars and he has learned how to throw a tantrum. Yes folks, he's a real live toddler as far as I am concerned. He has knocked over 2 lamps, broken dishes, ripped pages out of books, and even has phone conversations in a secret language. Everyone in the apartment building knows Harvy. He has been dubbed "King of the Aberwyck" (we'll put that on his resume when he get's older). He is a real pro at getting on and off of his tricycle. And mom is getting to be a real pro at figuring out how to keep him quiet during a telephone conversation. Which takes some real planning and kniving. Pictured here with his new t-shirt from Aunt Theresa from Nicaragua. He's getting kind of chubby!

Big Mother is Watching You :)

I needed to keep him out of the kitchen for a few minutes while I cleaned the floor. Lately the remote control and the cordless phone give me an instant reprive from the little hands tugging at my legs. This time I tried Oatios instead and with brilliant success! Unfortunately, now I have to clean this floor...