Wednesday, June 09, 2010
How to tell you're really not ready...
I love children. Love them. I babysat enough at university that I didn't need to get a job. Day or night, I'm pretty much guaranteed to say yes if asked to babysit. This week, a friend's nanny was away on holiday so I covered the afternoon school run and filled the gap until dinner when the parents returned.
One of the days was music lesson day, and, being more than used to swimming lesson day for this particular family, I thought I had it covered. Got them all from various schools; got them to the lesson on time; even got them toileted and sitting down quietly.
What I didn't bank on (since I normally fed them before swimming) was a very tired, cranky child post-music lesson. What I definitely didn't bank on was the Mummy Mafia judging me when I had to raise my voice to get the bookbag and coat picked up - all the eyes of the mothers from the class that had just finished and all the mothers waiting for the next class. Waiting and watching to see who would back down first. Whispering. Judging. They weren't even my children and I felt inadequate.
All broodiness aside, I'm not ready for feeling that everytime I go out. I'm not ready to be a mum. I'll stick to giving them back at the end of the day for the moment.
Oh, and for all of you wondering...he lost. I sat back down and told him that we'd wait until he picked them up, even it that took an hour. It took 10 seconds for him to look at my face and realise I was serious, and another 5 for him to pick them up.