Reinforced

I babysat for my nephew this weekend. When my brother called last week to ask me if I could watch his son I completely blanked on the fact that he was asking me to babysit on the Saturday before Mother's Day.

I know!!

See, he managed to catch me on a Tuesday afternoon at the park. In the freezing cold. Alyssa was at soccer practice and because I'd left Olivia at home with Tom the evening before due to a two-hour gymnastics practice, I felt like I should take her with me. She and I froze on a bench for forty minutes before she was willing to even try to play on the playground equipment. Once I got her to try? She didn't want to leave.

She and I happened to be at my car looking for yet another jacket for her to wear (for the record, she ended up in two hooded jackets and a quilted vest by the time practice was over) when my phone, which had been in the car, rang.

Stupidly, I answered.

And I agreed to babysit. On the Saturday before Mother's Day.

Now I know you're thinking, "Big deal. So you babysat your nephew on Saturday? What does that have to do with Mother's Day?"

Well, whenever my brother asks me to babysit, it's assumed that his son will spend the night.

And that means I won't get to sleep in because Tom's is more than willing to care for his own two children while his wife sleeps in but not for one more child for whom he did not agree to babysit. Not that he's in anyway unkind to Jaxon but he doesn't want to be responsible for him. I don't blame him.

All this (9 paragraphs? Really? Wordy much?) is to say that I was already a bit cranky about the whole babysitting thing when my brother dropped his son off. Please, though, never fear, no three year old (or four or eight year olds) were abused due to this crankiness.)

I even snottily said to my mom earlier in the day, "Why can't Jaxon's MOTHER take care of him this weekend? That way she could wake up to her the joy of her SON on Mother's Day?" Alas, she's young and sort of stupid and self-centered enough to not choose to do so.

Anyway!!!

Having that third child there just reinforced for me the wisdom of our decision to stop at two.

Oh the noise! The chaos of dinner and bathtime. The annoyance at bedtime when Jaxon and Olivia wouldn't stop giggling. Okay, that was sort of cute at first but after fifteen minutes and countless, "Shhh, it's sleepy time you guys." It got old.

I love having him there. I love watching him and Olivia interact. When they're not fighting with each other (which is hilarious, most of the time) they're conspiring against Alyssa, which again, hilarious until she runs after them, screaming at the top of her lungs, intent upon bloodshed.

Yes, it was fun. But I sure was glad that his dad decided to show up early (9am) to pick him up.