By Jen Slayden
I swear it was just yesterday when I was calling the coveted neighborhood babysitter to come watch Grace and her older brother! Memories have been coming in waves during the last week, as my daughter Grace now prepares to become an official babysitter. She took a certification class and is excited to begin taking on the neighborhood role of favorite babysitter. The flood of emotions I have felt in the past week are partly tied to the realization that we are entering a new phase in parenthood and to the fact that some awkward situations came up during the week of babysitting camp. With new phases in parenthood come new realities about the world, people, and social situations that I had hoped to shelter my children from as long as possible.
The first day at babysitting camp was pretty uneventful. The class watched a video and received an overview of what they would be learning during the week. The report that evening was that the day was kind of “boring.” The second day was quite different. It was my day to drive, so I delivered the babysitting crew safely and wished them well. They were splitting into groups and practicing their newfound skills with daycare kids. When I returned later on to pick the girls up they were all bouncing off the walls. I figured it was from the events of babies in diapers and preschoolers being hyper. I was wrong.
As I signed the girls out, one of Grace’s friends started telling the story of a new potential babysitter who showed up on day two. Apparently she didn’t want to be there, because she did her best to make her poor attitude known to the girls and the staff members. First it was the nasty looks. Then it was the swearing. The tipping point came when the friends saw her stealing art supplies from a table and shoving them into her pockets. When she came out of the bathroom and realized that they had witnessed her stealing she had some intimidating words for them.
As they relayed the story we heard a voice from behind us on the stairwell.
“I’m right behind you, you know. Are you scared?”
My daughter’s posse said they didn’t really care. At that point she replied “Probably because your mommy is here!”
At that point I had had enough. I turned to this disrespectful tween and said “Is there an issue here?”
To my horror she replied “Yes, your daughters are b******!”
I cannot tell you how fast my blood rushed through my veins at that moment. I was so shocked that a girl her age would have the gall to talk that way. I consider myself a compassionate adult and have worked enough with children to understand that this build-up of resentment is likely prompted by something out of this girl’s control. The girl was right about one thing: these girls are my daughters. They are the daughters of my dear friends, daughters in my wonderful village. No matter this girl’s circumstances, nor how compassionate I might feel toward her, I could not accept her hurting Grace, or my village daughters. How DARE she say that!
I caught a glimpse of Grace through this interaction. Her face showed it all: fear, shock, disbelief, and a little curiosity. I felt it too. I had to think quick and process what had just gone down. After taking a deep breath I told the girl that her statement was completely unacceptable and not necessary. To my statement she simply retorted “I don’t really care!”
She slid past me as my jaw dropped, walked quickly to a sports car, hopped in and was driven away before I could regain my composure. I delivered the girls to the van and brought one back in with me to report the incident to the counselor. She listened closely and thanked us for relaying the event. I left not quite sure what they were going to do with the information and simultaneously scolding myself for not doing enough.
The babysitting club was riding the rush the whole drive home. They told me the rest of the story, and as they relayed their perspective I continued to think in my mind “Who would hire her to babysit?”
Clearly she wouldn’t be a neighborhood favorite!
As I dropped my village daughters off at their respective houses the story was retold time and time again to the shocked mothers. The story grew a little life of its own in each retelling and I tried to continue to reinforce, along with another mother, how to approach a kid like that by using simple, concise statements and walking away. But in the back of my mind I was scared for the crew. I didn’t want them to have to think about going to camp the next day and putting their mediation skills to the test.
That evening when I took my kids to the Osprey game, I watched Grace and I had her pegged. “Grace, are you nervous that you are going to see the girl from camp?”
“Yes, I was thinking about that mom. But I’m sure she is probably grounded.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that when a child has that much blatant disrespect life may not be that rosy on the home front. Or perhaps larger issues that are too complicated to explain put these events in motion. At that moment I just wanted my daughter to feel safe and secure. I wanted her young again, safe with me- hidden from bullies and oblivious to the cruelty of other people.
The camp director and facility did the right thing after another mother called to complain. Not only did they kick the student out of class, they also suggested some counseling. The rest of the week went without incident, other than the challenges of babies in diapers and toddlers being hyper. I can say this for sure, since my village daughters told me that CPR class was “boring.” I relayed to them all that CPR wouldn’t be boring in the unlucky case that they would have to use it. They would need to have the procedure so ingrained in their memory that they could perform it without thinking.
However in light of day two I guess they were probably right. For the first time ever, I was okay with boring.
Grace holding our little neighbor Jack.
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Grace will always be a neighborhood favorite!
Hi Jenny, this brings back a rush of memories of the babysitting years and all the ins and outs. I can’t believe Grace is grown up to be the babysitter! Congrats!
Whoa!
Hope that girl is not in any of Cece’s classes…… but as we all know, as our kids get older they will be exposed to lots of things. I can’t decide if this story shocks me or depresses me.
b
I knew this was gonna be a written story! Excellent job in capturing its essence!