Secret of Male Strength

My Fourth of July Weekend spent with other people's kids.
we headed to the park around 10:30. They drank koolaid and I drank water. I let them play on their scooters and the swings for a few hours before we packed up and headed to a friend's house.

Me crocheting in public at the park

OPK rolling out to the bike trail

Trey and Lil'T

The most awesome picnic basket ever

I found this picnic basket at JC Penney

Told you...

 The bottom drawer is for the hot food. It has a telescoping handle, too. The kids didn't want to drink their Kool Aid bottles favoring water from the "wine" glasses.

Wild rollers in action

The backyard volleyball game

We had overcast until 1 pm. That was when I decided that it would be best to pack up and head over to someone's house with A/C. Unfortunately, the kids wanted to continue playing outside in the high heat and risk heat stroke on my watch. We reached a compromise. They could play as long as they did it with each other and I would stay outside and watch everyone's kids as long as I had a margarita and emergency water bottles.
I don't know why it took so long (I was drinking afterall) but eventually one of the mother's joined me on the patio while we regulated the kid's body heat.

Lil'T and Trey had the pinkest cheeks. I would make them sit and drink water with me a few times each hour.

Exhausted?

At the end of the day, they went right to bed. What more could I ask?

$139 Replica Watches! and other gifts

I have been completing projects for other people since the new year. More specifically for Other People's Kids. Other people's cute little girls.

I have not had an OPK post in some time. There was some blog fodder immediately after Giftmas but I lost the chance.

Hmm.

Actually, I need to rant.

If you remember, this winter I had surgery and Cousin L took advantage of my convalescence to drop off his kids (a few times).

Lil T and Trey enter my home and drop off their various Christmas toys from which they could not detach themselves while with me. Surprise Surprise.

Trey had his pocket gaming device and a book bag of action figures.  Lil T trails behind him carrying a box and dragging a barbie doll by its tangle hair.

I take the box from her and ask, "What's this." She informs me, "It's an Easy Bake Oven, Daddy said that you would help me with it."

"Did he......"

The box had not been opened at all. This man. This relative of mine. This father. Had made a promise to his little girl that I would help her bake her first cake.

I was honored and pissed at the same time.

Now, I had to include into our activities for the evening - bake time.

First thing that I do is check the box for the needed parts.

I asked Lil T if her father had packed a light bulb. She indicated that he had not.

Every former little girl (that was like me) knows that an Easy Bake Oven in NOT plug and bake.

Some set up is required.

Most importantly, a LIGHT BULB.

No one taught that to my single parent father Cousin L.

The toy did not require any old light bulb. It required a 100 Watt bulb.

Who has those anymore?

I certainly did not.

I checked the kitchen drawer where I keep all my extra bulbs.

YUP

All of them CFL

I checked all the light fixtures.

Nope. All of them CFL or lower wattage.

I read a few weeks ago that the Easy Bake Oven may go the way of the

Polaroid camera; if those hippy lawmakers have their way. This video explains it all

NBC News Video -- Easy Bake Oven vs. "The Lightbulb Police"
- Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

What I want you to understand is that I could not bear to look at the face of an 8 year old girl after I shared with her that I did not have the correct parts to operate her Easy Bake Oven. HER FIRST EASY BAKE OVEN.
I shake my fist at all those MALE lawmakers who fail to see the relationship between a 100 watt bulb and a future cook. 
And I shake my fist at my Cousin L for not warning me about the damn toy. (Well I did when it happened back in December)
So we donned our winter coats and boots to search for a 100 watt light bulb. While it snowed outside. On a cold winter day. And I had no cash on me. And my tank was 1/4 full. 
Sigh

Once we had the oven assembled with the correct parts, we made several cookie cakes. I was so exhausted from their fighting and baking cakes, that I let them eat their sweets on my bedspread. I was finding crumbs for days. But at least she has the memory of the first time. 
I am a wonderful person.

A few weeks ago, Facebook suggested that I stalk some of my sister's old photo albums. I happened upon the album titled "Easter." I obliged FB's command and clicked. How could I ignore it?
I was shocked,
Appalled,
Horrified,
To see my two year old niece using a plastic shopping bag to gather her Easter eggs back in 2010. I immediately called my sister to share my incredulity with her.
How could she permit this to not only happen but to commemorate it in a FB album. 
A shopping bag
The tumbleweeds of the Urban  city.
She laughed at me and suggested that I send her a basket for this year.
I did more than that.

I used a technique called "rag crochet." I cut 2.5 inch strips of nursery patterned fabric, joined the strips, and then crocheted the longer strips with a large sized hook. 
She loves it. I hear that she had already filled it "full of crap." 

 

Not long ago, Ambriel's ten year old daughter peeks around the corner. I ask her to come into the office. She looks at her hands and asks me if I would make for her a slouching beanie cap.

It had to be blue to match her coat. Again, I could not say no to that precious face.  After she looked up at me, that is.

 

She had been jealous because I had make a scarf for her little brother. I found the pattern in Crochet! magazine and had fun with itThis is the result. I had this Araucania Ulmo Multy yarn, that was mostly blue. I think the colors in the cotton yarn will make a great spring hat for her. .

Now that I have done three good deeds for three little girls, I am making a shawl to wear at work.
No matter the season, the office has the chill. I would rather avoid a space heater under my desk. I am making the 

Lightning Shawl by Frankie Brown in a variegated acrylic yarn. Another reason, why it is best not to have a space heater in the office.  My progress so far.

My HOAR ♥ bead marker is courtesy of SeeJayneKnits.

Archives: Minors

I wrote this in 2006. I had had a busy year in babysitting. I hadn't realized that I had been writing about Lil' T and Trey for so long until I unearthed this entry. Year in Review: Minors

Dec 31, '06 11:26 PM

I have written quite a bit this year about some of my younger relatives. I love being around other people’s children except when damage occurs.


I know that God has a sense of humor. I know each time I meet a child.


Babysitting

Babysitting toddlers/preschoolers is a challenge as I am sure you are aware. Toddlers want to explore everything. Usually with their mouths but by themselves. You don’t have to play with a toddler but you must watch the toddler play.

Preschoolers want you to play with them using their rules. The game could be anything. Perhaps the game is “let’s see what the kitty is doing?” or “Smash the Play-doh into the rug.” My favorite preschooler Lil T has very little patience for her toddler brother Trey. She bullies him and he torments her. Trey just wants to put things in his mouth, pull on hanging table cloths or follow his sister around. Lil T wants to pull out all of her toys and present from Christmas and “show and Tell.” Silly girl. Her game of Show and Tell is an open invitation to her brother to turn into Descructo-the Avenging Toddler. Descructo sees a perfectly good toy; probably one of his sisters, one that he must know is not his and will tear it apart.


You should have seen him disassemble the plastic microphone stand for Lil T’s guitar/microphone set. When he was done it resembled the thunder sticks that fans have at the football games. You know – hollow tubes that you bang together to make noise, which is what he was doing when Lil T started screaming at him.
No worries, while her attention was directed at putting together the microphone stand, Destructo had found the microphone. Wanting to be helpful, I plugged it in for him so that he could use the amplifier and express himself as Destructo. Of course, he tried to swallow the microphone while making the most interesting sounds and dancing. By now, Lil T is in a tizzy; she has reassembled the mic stand and is trying to retrieve the microphone from Desctructo. Silly girl, at that point Destructo had moved onto the guitar. Running his knuckles hands across the strings while Lil T is trying to figure out why the amplifier is no longer working. She didn’t know that I had turned it off when she wasn’t looking. By now the completely irritated Lil T has noticed Destructo is trying to pull out the guitar strings on her guitar. She quickly leaves to find his toddler appropriate guitar. At this point I am laughing my ass off. She returned 10 seconds later to find that Trey has moved onto her Dora the Explorer books. I guess she values her future as a singer with a guitar more than reading because she finally ignores him- just as he had been ignoring her for the last 30 minutes.

Pure Joy.


Teenagers that have only recently left their Tween years are very funny

One does not babysit a Teenageror a Tween. Tweens are merely observed from afar. Unfortunately, this hands-off approach always leads to property damage.

Girls leaving their Tween years and approaching adolescence have their own lives that are filled with Brats dolls, Hello Kitty and a love hate relationship with the color pink.


She wonders – shall I continue to embrace the Pink or do I move on without Pink.

She laments - Oh, how Pink comforted me in my youth but now I am a Tween. I must ready myself for adolescence

She ponders – Can I be me without being Pink?

She considers – I am Tween and Tween is Pink but teenagers are not pink

She reconciles – The inner me will always be Pink.

She declares – My new favorite color is (random color – not pink)





Then the little Princes asks her mother for a pink Hello Kitty cell phone.

Tween boys stop talking in order to avoid ridicule from their changing voices.


Younger kids want you to be involved in every sound, game or chore when you are watching them and they will tell on you or tell everything you did or said to their parents. Tweens want you to buy them things when you are babysitting and will report on you to their parents. New teenagers tell just look at you, download crap onto your computer and roll their eyes at you when you ask “whatcha playing?” You never really know what they are saying to their parents and you don’t really care. You just want to know how to remove the damn spyware that is now cemented into your harddrive.


I adore older teens they are easy. They will not destroy your home by playing with power tools left on the table. They will not explore goofy websites that install pervasive cookies on your computer. Teens are motivated by coolness and money. Juicy lip gloss and video games. Name belts and designer caps. They don’t want to be embarrassed when they are hanging out with you unless you are paying well. They gather gossip and tell funny stories about you to their parents. They might let you meet their friends.

Unfortunately, they listen to you when you are on the phone with the customer service agents while you are slowly losing your cool moving into Black Woman Vexed mode. The silly agent tried to defend the quality of the satellite dish receiver by informing me that the dish works perfectly at her house. LIKE I FREAKING CARE THAT THE SATELLITE DISH WORKS AT HER HOUSE WHEN IT DOESN’T WORK AT MINE. As if it would break the company to place a phone order for the pay-per-view movies that the Teens want to watch and waive the absolutely stupid fee for not doing it through the satellite receiver box. THE BOX THAT DOESN’T WORK CORRECTLY AT MY HOUSE BUT APPARENTLY WORKS JUST FINE AT HERS. Then the wench tells me that the reason is doesn’t work at my house is because my lines are faulty. I told her that keep her crazy ideas to herself and transfer me to the technical support so that I can have the Singapore made receiver box replaced for a Japanese model.

Teens think that stuff is incredibly funny and they seem to appreciate you better after watching you in Black Woman Vexed Mode. Hmm, i wonder if she was taking notes or was she frightened?

---

Lil' T is now 8 and her brother is now five. Both have not changed much. I will post an entry about my most recent babysitting adventure with them latter this month.The Tween mentioned in this post is my niece. She is now 17 years old and graduating from High School the upcoming Spring. The teen featured in this story is the other niece, in her fourth year of college. The tween who drilled a hole in my wall, is now 18 and admitted to me at Thanksgiving that he is interested in a career in construction. He told me that I got him interested in it. 

The Full Monty

It is time for another Other People's Kids entry...

Drum roll.

I watched Little T and Trey this past weekend. I set them up with the UNO cards while I worked in the kitchen.  Dude was over so he pretended to watch them and Cartoon Network. I am sure that he secretly wanted to watch some sports or something.

Lil' T demonstrates her boredom with very peculiar habits.

She would walk onto the enclosed porch, pretend to read a magazine there.  Play with the wind chimes.  Then walk out onto the stoop. Pick up the sidewalk chalk. Make adjustments to her calcium sulfate masterpiece. Do some hopscotch. Return to the porch, do a little dance with a twirl. Walk back into the living room. Plop herself onto the couch. This went on for 30 or so minutes until I yelled, "stay in the house or stay out." 

Completely channeling my mother.... I wish I had had my camera. She amused me.

She wandered into the kitchen and asked me to show her how to cook.  I pulled out the stepping stool and we worked on washing, peeling, and chopping vegetables.  It was cute.

When I had set her up to peel her first tomato, I checked on Trey. I was making sauce from garden vegetables. 

I gave Trey a hug for being a good boy and noticed that my hand came away wet.

I asked him to explain.  This is how it went:

"I had to use the bathroom.  I ran up the stairs..... but I did not make it."

"and that is why you need a bathroom downstairs."

I thanked him for his remodeling advice and glared at Dude for not properly watching the young boy.  Dude tells me that Trey announced "I have to use the bathroom."  Jumped up from the couch and started towards the stairs, asked him to turn on the hallway light, and then ran to the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later and refused to sit down on the couch.

Men are so oblivious......

I drag Trey to the bathroom and ask him to remove his pants.

I get the full monty.

I ask him about the location of his underwear.

This is how it went:

"I told my daddy that I had no underwear."

"I told him. When I went over my cousins house and I had no underwear"

"He did not listen to me."

I found some of my roomies size extra small leggings and he wore those while his shorts laundered.  After much back and forth, I wrangled him back into the bathroom for a bath. 

You should have seen his father's face when he asked me about Trey's clothing.

This is how it went:

"So you washed his shorts and underwear."

"What underwear? The boy is going commando."

"What did you say?"

"Commando. You heard me"

Pause, as realization hits him that his 5 year old son has been playing all day without underwear.  

"Boy, you don't have any drawers on?"

"I tried to tell you Daddy, you no listen to me. But I tried to tell you. I sure did. I told you I had no underwear......"

Ahh. Gotta love the little ones

I want some....

A Better Way

I have a new phone.  I hadn't planned on it.  My HTC Touch stopped behaving.  It would not ring when people called but if someone followed up a call with a text message the stupid phone would ring.  

Very strange.  And random.  I took it into the office and the attendant immediately ordered me a new phone.

I selected an Android phone. 

I downloaded Sudoku.  A wordsearch game.  And Zombie, run!

I have had the most fun with the zombie game.

The other day, I went to the metropark to walk.  To exercise.  I opened the game.  Selected my destination, GPS determined my location and then I start walking.  

Using the screen, I can see the zombies around the park trails.  I avoid them.

Of course, the GPS failed me when I walked under a heavy canopy of trees.  I had been walking for 30 minutes unmolested by zombies and suddenly, I had a blank screen.  

I found a clearing and stopped.  After a few tense minutes, I had my location and found that 20 zombies were coming for me.  I looked in front of me.  I looked in the back of me.  I looked up and I looked around.  Not for zombies........ per se..... I was trying to orient myself.  By the time I started running to get away from the zombies (that only existed on my screen) they were almost upon me.   Sadly, I ran right into them and they ate my brains.  

I played a second game and had a zombie follow me for a mile.  Strange thing is that I increased my pace while the zombie chased me as if it were really behind me.  

I have decided that playing Zombie, run while exercising outside is the best way to include aerobic activity into my routine.  

I finally gave the halter to LilT.  She reminded me that I have made her a "bunch of stuff"  but I have made nothing for her brother.  Well, we will see about that.  I am apparently giving her too much.  It would be best for me to make Trey the focus of my handmade gifts for the next few years.  She will be begging for more by the time I am done spoiling her brother. 

;;;;;

And the Easter lilies from the yard.  I collected these by buying the flowers for my grandmother then heading to her house after Easter.  Since I knew that she will just let them die, I take them from her and plant them in my yard. 

Finally, there has got to be a better way to stay cool this summer. AC is loud and expensive.  Water is overrated.  Vodka needs a chaser.  Being naked isn't always legal.  I need something new.

 I may have found something.    Flying dog brewery has some great beers.  I mean, when the box reads "Good People Drink Good Beer  - Hunter S. Thompson" you can't lose.   I like Old Scratch.       Next time I am getting the Raging Bitch Belgian style IPA. Now you do the same.

  

Barbie Fighting in Ten Minutes or Less

This blog will be the first edition of Other People’s Kids
Gotta love them

I agreed to help a girlfriend with the cooking for her Superbowl party. I had a terrible headache and just wanted to lie down for the night. But I could not ignore her pleas.
She gave me two motrin and an hour later I was fine. Yeah for motrin. She has a four year old, who I will call Boatman, and most of the children at the party were older girls. I offered to pick up Trey and Lil’ T to play with her son.
In case you are wondering, I do not know much of anything about football or the Superbowl. I spent the night reading – headache free. I had a highly coveted spot on the couch in front of the TV with my latest fey novel. Belly full of talipia and spaghetti. Content with the world until Lil’T appears in front of me.
She was guiding an injured Trey by the hand. In her other hand, she held several cubes of ice inside of a paper towel. Trey’s tear tracked face made whimpering noises. I asked “ What happened?”
First I checked the clock. Ten minutes. Ten minutes had elapsed since I fed Lil’T and Trey and told them they could play with the other kids. Ten minutes. Or maybe eight.
Guradian Lil’T felt that her responsibility to Trey had been completed and left without telling me what had happened. Whimpering Trey informs me that Boatman hit him with a toy while he applied the cold pack to his forehead. I called Lil’T back and asked her to send Boatman to me for an interview.
Boatman arrives - literally dragging his feet on the carpet. He offered this explanation.
“ I wanted to fight someone. No one would fight me. So I throw a toy at Trey.”

I was stunned.
My voice could only reply, “Well are you sorry for hurting Trey?”
Mumbling
“What was that? Are you going to apologize to Trey?”
Mumbling.. “I wanted to fight someone.. No one would fight with me..” mumble
By now, the entire room is observing this. Including Boatman’s father. He removes Boatman to have a chat with him. I do not discourage father to son chats.
I use the break to check on Trey’s bruise.

WOW

see more Lolcats and funny pictures
It was doozy. Boatman really wanted to start a fight…… Is that some new form of play?
I warned Trey to duck next time someone starts throwing things. Then I resumed reading my book until Boatman returned to properly apologize to Trey.
Another five minutes and Trey was ready to resume playing with the other children as long as he could hold his ice pack to his forehead. By the end of the night, he told me that he was not ready to go home and that he wanted to play “Sum Moor.”
Apparently, the huge knot on his head could not stop him from having a good time.
I asked his father if Boatman had an appointment with a bully in the near future.

This weekend, Lil’ T and Trey visited me.
Lil’T brings a DVD and cannot comprehend why I have not repaired or replaced my broken DVD player. She reasons with me that if I had a working DVD player then she could watch her Barbie movie. I responded that she has probably seen that Barbie movie many times and she would not be injured to watch Coraline with me. She informed me that Coraline is a scary movie. I asked her if she had seen it before. She state that she had already watched Coraline and now she wanted to watch Barbie.
I suggested that she would not be scared to watch Coraline again with me. She insisted on watching Barbie. I gave up.
I set up my bedroom dvd player for her to watch Barbie while simultaneously playing on her hand held game.
I hear a loud crash coming from my bedroom. I check the clock. Yup, ten minutes had elapsed.
“What made that sound?” I ask
“That fell on the floor.” She responds as she casually makes a waving motion with her arm. She does not deign to look at me from her game.
“What fell on the floor?”
“That fell on the floor.” Again she casually flips her hand to indicate that the 3.5 pound dumbbell fell off the bed.
“You mean you dropped the dumbbell onto the floor “
“No, it fell.”
“No, you were playing with it and you dropped it. Since you cannot be left unsupervised you can watch Teenage Mutant Ninjas with me and your brother.”
“No, I want to watch Barbie.”
“Well maybe Barbie will make a guest appearance on TMNT, now come on.”
When I herded them to bed at ten pm. She informed me that on non-school nights they are allowed to stay up late at her home. A casually mention to her that she was not at home and turned off the light.
Someone really should remake Adventures in Babysitting because flying toys and falling dumbbells are serious business.

Crafty Update
Done. Complete. Finished. I mailed the hats and scarves to my father to distribute to the grandkids. The is the final hat design.


And the new shawl
I am following this pattern : Dagmar. Hairpin lace is loads of fun. I almost wish that I was making this for myself.

Spring

I have no real topic today.
Just some Homeowner stuff
Things are pretty normal.

I am keeping a careful eye on my peonies. This year, I expect them to be grand. I moved them from the backyard in 2005 after I discovered them. Whomever had been caring for the lawn before I purchased the house, had been mowing them down.
Of course, I have never been concerned with a well maintained lawn and I discovered them after a long break from cuttings. And people think there is nothing to be gained from ignoring your lawn.
They have been doing well in the front yard except for the two that are cursed with shade from the neighbor’s hideous tree. I send eye daggers at that tree every day. One day it will die for me.

I have to figure out how to lay the grub killer down without killing the ants that I need to force the peonies to open. I panicked last year. I didn’t realize that the grub killer pellets murdered ants, grasshoppers and beetles, too. There was no insect life at all for weeks.

I was devastated for days until they finally showed up
This is what they look like.

Last fall, I transplanted my grandfather’s peony bush to my front yard. Despite my grandmother’s doubt, the peony is pushing up through the ground. She should have more faith in me. Grandpa has dementia. He seems to think that he mows the lawn and trims back his bushes regularly. But he really sits in his lazy-boy all day watching Westerns on their 19 inch. I couldn’t bear to let his beautiful bushes die from neglect or from some overzealous lawncare company. Unfortunately, when I went to their house to check on the original, I could not find it. I hope that I did not accidentally kill his 30 year old bush in my desire to have a little of him at my house.

If it were not for spring flowers and birds I would hate spring. I would hate the constant rain. I would hate the cold nights and dreary days. I do not look forward to taking my allergy eye drops, loratadine or Benadryl more frequently.
The purple crocuses are first followed by blue scillia and yellow daffodils. As they die off, the tulips are readying themselves for their presentation and the peonies and irises are stretching their stems towards the spring sun. I love the spring for this reason.

I love checking on the flowers before heading off to work. I love that my campus has gardens everywhere for me to enjoy.

I just hate the sneezing. I hate being cold. I am sick of having to flat iron my hair from rain. My shoes get dirty from stepping in mud and I still need to apply the crab grass killer on dry soil.

Spring. Whatever

Crafty Updates
I am almost complete with my geisha wrap. It refuses to remain on my shoulders when I wear it. Apparently, I did not check the width properly or it was designed for a defensive lineman.

I have tried edging it was a smaller sized hook but I am still working it out. I will probably have to ask my crafting friends to help me fix it. Or give it to my best friend with broader shoulders. She gets more gifts from me that way.

This year my goal is to complete all 2008 FO’s. The geisha wrap will be the first. Then I will complete the red and white granny square. Joy and more work for me.

On the Other People's Kids report
Tonight I got a call from Tinky, Lilt and Trey's mom.
She began by saying, "We do not have any hot water."
I had no idea what to expect after that opening. I paused. Why was she calling me? I am not a plumber and I don't have any coupons for water heaters.
She went on to say. After an exhaustive explanation of the ordering and installation process for a new water heater she says, "How do you feel about a visitor?"
Then it hit me.

This was the Lamest Excuse for a babysitting request that I had ever heard. I told her that I should disconnect the call on principle.
Hell no, I didn't believe that she had a busted water heater until she told me that they had the installation scheduled for Friday. Which meant that they currently have hot water but not on Friday and she needed me to watch Trey on Friday.
I laughed at her.


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Then I said yes.

I am a sucker at heart.

Predictions - Other People's Kids

I predict that at some random hour Cousin L will call me to inform me that he will not be picking up his children because either (a) he will arrive into town too late or (b) he will arrive into town too early.

He will promise to pick them up in the morning. I further predict that he will not. He will not arrive until Sunday afternoon.

I predict that Trey will insist on sleeping on the floor with the threat of peeing in my guest bed.

I predict that Lil'T will insist on sleeping with me in my bed with her knees in my back the entire night.

Those are my predictions

They have been with me since Wednesday when their father dropped them off 3.5 hours before the agreed upon time.

Someone, send rum.

The Adventures of Lil'T and Trey

You would think after years of watching minors that I would know all of their tricks. The popular mantra, “you can’t out trick the trickster” has only applied to me under very limited circumstances.  Certainly, not during my adventures in watching minors. 

Lil’T passed kindergarten with flying colors. She knew how to tie her shoes and could write her own name.  I missed the graduation ceremony but I wanted to spend some time with Lil’T and her brother.  I needed some entertainment.    I had the pleasure of baby-sitting her while her parents celebrated Father’s Day.  It seemed odd to me that they would select Fathers’ Day as an excuse to visit a four star hotel and not their anniversary.  That is, until I realized that their anniversary fell on my birthday and I am generally unavailable to baby-sit on that day.  I have learned that not too many of their friends and relatives agree to baby-sit for both children at the same time.  I was happy to oblige. Due to the heat, I demanded that the event take place in their air conditioned home.  My instructions were to pick them up from their grandmothers and take them to the house.  My cousin arranges this hand-off scenario all of the time.  By taking shifts they can maximize the amount of time of their vacations or trips without overburdening any one relative. 

As a single woman with no children, I am always amazed at that state of their house.  Each time I visit, I check the white furniture in the living room. I still cannot believe that the set has not be replaced by something darker.  The kitchen never looks the same twice.   It reminds me of a kitchen in a group home.  Everything cabinet and cupboard had a lock including those above the counter.  I stared at the lock on the refrigerator for a few minutes.  There are, of course, the tell-tale signs of a family with children which consist of school lunch menus and pictures held by color magnets on the fridge.  I pull the door handle and find it tethered by some kind of lock.  It resembled one of those locking ties that SWAT teams use to subdue  prisoners.  Seeing it on the door handles of the refrigerator prompted me to call my cousins during their romantic getaway.  He explained to me that Trey did not permit himself to be hungry for long. It was his habit shout, “I am hungry” just once.  If there was not response to his within the next few moments he would take matters into his own little hands.  I was warned to leave any food sitting on the counters, to confirm that the pantry was closed and to reattach the tie on the fridge.  I thought that the arrangements seemed extreme for a 3 year old. 

I learned a very important lesson that babysitting adventure. I should not attempt to watch minors when I am learning  a new knitting or crochet technique. I often take my needlework with me when I sit for my cousin.  Usually, I am working on something simple and mindless. Something that I do not have to mind every few stitches.  On this occasion, I brought an intricate pattern to the house to practice.  I regret to admit that I watched the project develop more than I watched the children.  Instead of cooking dinner, I bought a pizza and set the table. I instructed the Kindergartner graduate and the preschooler to eat the pizza while I continued to knit in the adjoining room. After about five rows, I checked on the children.

The pizza box had one slice remaining.  I looked at the children and their little stomachs, briefly wondering – just for a moment – if they really ate 9 slices of cheese pizza.  The trash can had at least three half eaten slices in it. I should off my confusion and cleaned the food mess that they made for me.  All night long Lil’T kept asking me about my knitting project.  But not in the manner in which one would expect.  She would simultaneously ask me what I was making and guess at the same time.

“Are you making a blanket.“

“No,” I would respond without looking at her. 

“Are you making a hat?”

“No,” I would answer.

Finally she asked, “What are you making?”

“I am making a sweater,” I looked at her and waited for a response.  This seemed to satisfy her curiosity until the next time she asked.  It took me a few times but I soon learned that it was a game.  The series of three questions and two random garment guesses went on all night long until she complained of a stomach to avoid going to bed.  I had not noticed her pattern of questions while I studied the instructions for the sweater pattern.  Despite this, I would not be tricked into delaying her bedtime.  I have her a glass of warm milk and sent her to her room. 

The next morning,  I laid in bed waiting for the children to collect me to make their breakfast.  I know that this is an unconventional practice. Most parents make breakfast for the children before they awaken.  Being a baby-sitter, I waited for the children to rise before I would.  When I opened my eyes and checked the clock on my cell phone, I read 10:30 am.  I was shocked that the children had not wanted breakfast. Then I remember my cousin’s warning. 

I leapt up the stairs and headed for the kitchen.  Nothing was out of place. The refrigerator had not been toppled over.  The trash though it needed to be emptied looked the same as it had the night before.  I imagined that the children were starving.  I asked Lil’T, “are you hungry?” She answered in the negative.  I searched for her brother.  I found Trey chewing on something in his mouth.  I asked him about the contents of his mouth and he laughed at me.  The mischievous Lil’T matter of fact informed me that they had eaten pizza.  Since I had not put away any leftover pizza, I asked her to explain.  She shared with me that they had saved several pieces of pizza for their parents.  When I pressed to know where the pizza had been saved both children smiled at me silently.  Apparently the resourceful children has chosen to eat their stashed pizza rather than wake me to make breakfast.  I really did not want to know where the hiding place had been. 

Had I not been so preoccupied by my own kitting affairs, I would have accounted for the horded sliced.  I vowed never to baby-sit while tackling a new needlework project again. When my cousin arrived home and I explained to him the shenanigans that had occurred in this absence, I referred to me as the “Substitute” while he checked his home for damages.  He felt that we should not have agreed to baby-sit at his home since the children were on familiar territory and would use their tricks to avoid their regular routine.  Instead of accusing me of not bathing the children properly, he smelled them and then checked the moisture level of their wash cloths.  Trey passed the inspection.  Lil’T on the other hand proved to be an adept trickster.  I had observed Trey bathing himself, his competency in handling the soap and wash cloth led me to believe that his older sister would be able to bath herself alone.  I was wrong.  We determined that she merely splashed water around for 20 minutes using neither a wash cloth nor soap. At the time of her bath, I had asked her about the dry washcloth.  For some reason, I accepted her explanation of  “I didn’t need a wash cloth, I used the soap.” I attribute my failure to recognize the antics of a trickster to my preoccupation with the sweater that I was knitting.  Once again, I had failed another of God’s lessons.  

The Adventures of Lil'T and Trey

You would think after years of watching minors that I would know all of their tricks. The popular mantra, “you can’t out trick the trickster” has only applied to me under very limited circumstances. Certainly, not during my adventures in watching minors.

Lil’T passed kindergarten with flying colors. She knew how to tie her shoes and could write her own name. I missed the graduation ceremony but I wanted to spend some time with Lil’T and her brother. I needed some entertainment. I had the pleasure of baby-sitting her while her parents celebrated Father’s Day. It seemed odd to me that they would select Fathers’ Day as an excuse to visit a four star hotel and not their anniversary. That is, until I realized that their anniversary fell on my birthday and I am generally unavailable to baby-sit on that day. I have learned that not too many of their friends and relatives agree to baby-sit for both children at the same time. Besides their wedding date is a popular time of year for showers, weddings, reunions, etc. I was happy to oblige. Due to the heat, I demanded that the event take place in their air conditioned home. My instructions were to pick them up from their grandmothers and take them to the house. My cousin arranges this hand-off scenario all of the time. By taking shifts they can maximize the amount of time of their vacations or trips without overburdening any one relative.

As a single woman with no children, I am always amazed at that state of their house. Each time I visit, I check the white furniture in the living room. I still cannot believe that the set has not be replaced by something darker. The kitchen never looks the same twice. It reminds me of a kitchen in a group home. Everything cabinet and cupboard had a lock including those above the counter. I stared at the lock on the refrigerator for a few minutes. There are, of course, the tell-tale signs of a family with children which consist of school lunch menus and pictures held by color magnets on the fridge. I pull the door handle and find it tethered by some kind of lock. It resembled one of those locking ties that SWAT teams use to subdue prisoners. Seeing it on the door handles of the refrigerator prompted me to call my cousins during their romantic getaway. He explained to me that Trey did not permit himself to be hungry for long. It was his habit shout, “I am hungry” just once. If there was not response to his within the next few moments he would take matters into his own little hands. I was warned not to leave any food sitting on the counters, to confirm that the pantry was closed and to reattach the tie on the fridge. I thought that the arrangements seemed extreme for a 3 year old.

I learned a very important lesson that babysitting adventure. I should not attempt to watch minors when I am learning a new knitting or crochet technique. I often take my needlework with me when I sit for my cousin. Usually, I am working on something simple and mindless. Something that I do not have to mind every few stitches. On this occasion, I brought an intricate pattern to the house to practice. I regret to admit that I watched the project develop more than I watched the children. Instead of cooking dinner, I bought a pizza and set the table. I instructed the Kindergartner graduate and the preschooler to eat the pizza while I continued to knit in the adjoining room. After about five rows, I checked on the children.

The pizza box had one slice remaining. I looked at the children and their little stomachs, briefly wondering – just for a moment – if they really ate 9 slices of cheese pizza. The trash can had at least three half eaten slices in it. I shook off my confusion and cleaned the food mess that they made for me. All night long Lil’T kept asking me about my knitting project. But not in the manner in which one would expect. She would simultaneously ask me what I was making and guess at the same time.

“Are you making a blanket.“

“No,” I would respond without looking at her.

“Are you making a hat?”

“No,” I would answer.

Finally she asked, “What are you making?”

“I am making a sweater,” I looked at her and waited for a response. This seemed to satisfy her curiosity until the next time she asked. It took me a few times but I soon learned that it was a game. The series of three questions and two random garment guesses went on all night long until she complained of a stomach to avoid going to bed. I had not noticed her pattern of questions while I studied the instructions for the sweater pattern. Despite this, I would not be tricked into delaying her bedtime. I have her a glass of warm milk and sent her to her room.

The next morning, I laid in bed waiting for the children to collect me to make their breakfast. I know that this is an unconventional practice. Most parents make breakfast for the children before they awaken. Being a baby-sitter, I waited for the children to rise before I would. When I opened my eyes and checked the clock on my cell phone, I read 10:30 am. I was shocked that the children had not wanted breakfast. Then I remember my cousin’s warning.

I leapt up the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Nothing was out of place. The refrigerator had not been toppled over. The trash though it needed to be emptied looked the same as it had the night before. I imagined that the children were starving. I asked Lil’T, “are you hungry?” She answered in the negative. I searched for her brother. I found Trey chewing on something in his mouth. I asked him about the contents of his mouth and he laughed at me. The mischievous Lil’T matter of fact informed me that they had eaten pizza. Since I had not put away any leftover pizza, I asked her to explain. She shared with me that they had saved several pieces of pizza for their parents. When I pressed to know where the pizza had been saved both children smiled at me silently. Apparently the resourceful children has chosen to eat their stashed pizza rather than wake me to make breakfast. I really did not want to know where the hiding place had been.

Had I not been so preoccupied by my own kitting affairs, I would have accounted for the horded sliced. I vowed never to baby-sit while tackling a new needlework project again. When my cousin arrived home and I explained to him the shenanigans that had occurred in this absence, I referred to me as the “Substitute” while he checked his home for damages. He felt that we should not have agreed to baby-sit at his home since the children were on familiar territory and would use their tricks to avoid their regular routine. Instead of accusing me of not bathing the children properly, he smelled them and then checked the moisture level of their wash cloths. Trey passed the inspection. Lil’T on the other hand proved to be an adept trickster. I had observed Trey bathing himself, his competency in handling the soap and wash cloth led me to believe that his older sister would be able to bath herself alone. I was wrong. We determined that she merely splashed water around for 20 minutes using neither a wash cloth nor soap. At the time of her bath, I had asked her about the dry washcloth. For some reason, I accepted her explanation of “I didn’t need a wash cloth, I used the soap.” I attribute my failure to recognize the antics of a trickster to my preoccupation with the sweater that I was knitting. Once again, I had failed another of God’s lessons.

School Adventures

I almost forgot to tell you about my latest adventures in “Watching Minors.” I think babysitting children is like being a cast member of a sit-com.

The characters are all the same:

The precocious preschooler

The attention stealing toddler

The giggly tween who has the entire world to conquer

The moody teen who is much to serious to be understood

A few weeks ago, I watched Lil T. Lil T is Cousin L’s daughter. She will be 5 in ten days. Her first day of kindergarten arrived during her parents planned business trip. I agreed to take her to school.

I was fine with it until the questions began.

My friends wanted to know how it came to pass that I was taking Lil T to school. There seemed to be some concern in their voices.

My co-workers didn’t think I understood the ramifications of such a task.

They took me through the tasks one by one.

1. What was I going to feed her?

I said, she asked for grits for breakfast. I was informed to make sure she eats before she gets dressed. GENIUS!!!! I would have never thought of that on my own.

2. What is she wearing?

Her uniform. I was advised to keep the uniform away from her until she is getting dressed as she might play with it.

3. What time to I plan to leave for the drop off?

I figured 20 minutes. I learned that her school has a pretty nasty drop-off with a high number of professional parents who need to get to work. I should plan to get there 30 minutes early and hope to be on time. There was the drop off traffic to navigate as a new parent. And in years past, the news media has covered the first day of school at this particular building.

4. Are you nervous?

Yes, I was nervous I was nervous about getting her to school on time. I was warned that I had to get her there on time for her first day of school. Just so you know, I didn’t.

5. How does she feel about school?

I really didn’t know. She seemed okay. It was foretold that little girls who seem okay the day before the first day of school are not usually okay on the first day of school. I was urged to remain inside or outside of the class for several minutes to make sure that she was settled.

6. what time do you plan to pick her up?

I figured when she gets out. My co-workers reminded me about the ridiculous drop-off and suggested that I remember that the pick-up would be equally congested.

Okay, I was set.

First, Lil T took her bath at night and went to bed on time. In the morning I made the grits, eggs and sausage for her.

I forgot that children only like scrambled eggs. Yeah, my bad. I made her eggs over medium (my favorite). I also forgot that her parents do not eat pork. I couldn’t figure out why she kept frowning at the delicious sausage. Yum Yum. I asked her to finish the grits and the eggs and get dressed.

A few minutes later she presented herself to me. I didn’t really look her over so I can’t say if the tags were still on her clothes or not. She looked clean. So, I said get your lunch bag and lets go.

About ½ way to the school I take a look behind me

I notice that Lil T’s cheeks seem swollen. I asked her if there was something in her mouth. She showed me a mouthful of grits and eggs. I asked her to swallow it.

Look at her cheeks.

I realized that she had not only dressed herself but she had been in the car for 15 minutes before I realized she was hoarding food in her mouth. Did someone tell her that she would not eat at Kindergarten?

Just so you know. I was late. The whole lineup for the drop off was difficult to maneuver. I walked her to class she sat down and ignored me. Isn't the floor colorful? I acutally forgot to wait. I walked pretty slowly because I wanted proof that I was not the last parent to drop off a kid. (even though I am technically not a parent). I know, selfish on my part but no LilT running after me. She was fine.

Here she is opening her locker.

Picking her up was interesting.

All of the parents must wait in a group about 40 yards away from the door. The kindergartners are first. Of course, Lil T was the first child through the door.

On her face was a look of utter disgust. As if her little brother had slobbered on her favorite doll. Or had a very loud smelling bowel movement near her. She eyed all of the parents with her mean gaze.

I was afraid of her. My co-workers had warned me to the point of irritation that little girls do not handle the first day of school very well. They told me stories of crying fits and screaming. I didn’t know what was going on in Lil T’s head.

I was afraid to walk towards her.

I thought that maybe the sun was in her eyes and in a few minutes she would smile or otherwise not look so mean.

No. I cautiously walked towards her. She recognized me but continued to “mean-mug” the other parents. It was so bad that I just wanted to disappear.

When we were out of sight hidden behind the yellow buses, I asked her “why do you look so angry.”

She whined as if almost ready to cry, “I want to ride on the bus.”

That girl makes me laugh coming and going...

PS

I found the tags for her clothing on the floor of the guest bedroom. I was relieved. Finding the tags meant that I did not send her to school with tags on her clothing. But I am not sure that she brushed her teeth.

She also asked about my missing tv everyday and at least three times a day during her stay. She didn't understand why the TV had broken any more than I did.