Babysitters are Crazy

We’ve been blessed to have wonderful neighbors and folks from our church who have helped us out and volunteered to watch Caleb for us over the past couple months. It’s been a really huge gift. But it eventually became clear to us (well, to my wife….and I finally listened) that it would be even better to be able to hire someone who would be here on a consistent, predictable schedule. About a month ago, Sarah and I finally were able to sit down, run some numbers, and see what we could afford for some babysitting. We only met with one person, but really liked her from the beginning…and while it isn’t a lot, we do have someone coming on a weekly schedule, and it’s made a world of difference. It’s great because it gives Sarah a chance to get out of the house and get some work done, and we can now have someone who is getting to know Caleb on an ongoing basis.

But…as wonderful as she is…I also think she’s a bit crazy.

Heck, I think all babysitters are crazy. Granted, I’ve never done any babysitting. And…I’m not entirely sure that I like little babies/toddlers all that much. Now, obviously I love Caleb…but he’s mine. The thought of going over to someone else’s house to watch someone else’s baby…? That just seems crazy to me. Especially because our sitter has a kid of her own…so after spending the day with her child…she chooses to come and spend 4 hours with Caleb…

…after an afternoon when he didn’t nap at all…and apparently he was just nuts tonight…?

I mean…putting aside the fact that Caleb is generally awesome…it all just seems a little bit crazy to me.

Right?

And then I think of some of the babysitters we had growing up. I don’t know if there was a shortage of good sitters in our humble abode of Chehalis, Washington, but we had some truly crazy ones. Like the one who racked up a huge long-distance phone bill. Or the crazy old lady who was mean to me and had a husband with a handlebar mustache. Or the looniest one we ever had…who, on her way over to our house, saw a dead crow on the side of the road, and decided to bring it into our house after my parents left, to try and revive it and care for it.

So, clearly there are different kinds of crazy when it comes to sitters.

And I’m so glad that our sitter is the kind of crazy that means that even though she may have already spent all day with her child…she still wants to come and hang out with and care for our son…that’s a good kind of crazy.

Not the caring-for-dying-crows kind of crazy.