There are few things that we are protective of as women and mothers. We’re protective of our children, our spouses, our homes, our cars. So many of us become mama bears when any of these things are even approached by others looking to steal the love, the good, the support, the time of these items. We have no problem admitting that we’ve been known to yell, fight, or argue to make sure no one steals our prized possessions. In fact, we have been known to go bat shit crazy because well let’s face it…all of us have a sprinkle of crazy in us.
But one thing not many moms admit is saying…
“Bitch stole my babysitter.”
You heard me right. How often have you not given your babysitter’s name or information to a friend because you are scared of losing the only person that is a part of your sanity. Forget your husband, your friends, your family. No, my friends, your babysitter is a prized possession who you desperately need for that moment out of the house without a snot nosed child wiping themselves on your shoulder or leg or a scream in the background while you’re on the phone. You need that babysitter so you can take a moment just to eat dinner…peacefully…without dodging flinging ketchup and green beans…so you can have an adult conversation without refereeing a fight between siblings.
Yes, my babysitter is my prized possession and without her I’d die a long ketchup and snot covered death by suffocation.
But I need a new one. A daytime one. I need one that will be there so I can work out without my kids pulling down my gym pants. So I can do a pilates plank without 50 pound of little boys climbing onto my back. My core is strong, people, but it’s not that strong. I need one so I can go to my GYN appointments without having to hide the boys from the sight of that man with the metal duck going near their mommy’s girly bits.
Yes, I need a new one because the one problem with day time sitters is they all get jobs. Or a life. And I’m left to scour the planet (or city) for the one person that is a good sitter. I’m a babysitter snob. I will rate you, judge you, and find out if you’re good enough for my boys. I want you to be that person that my boys get excited to see, that I trust will follow the rules, and let the kids have fun but not let them be brats.
I need a replica of me. If you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty dang complicated and I’m “special” so it’s a hard find in the sea of babysitters.
I ask around to my mom friends. They tell me that they have a great one and they’ll let me know if she has any availability. They won’t tell me more than that. They hold their sitters close to their chests. Clinging to it as if though their sanity is dependent on their sitters flexible schedule.
I never hear from them again.
They hold their cards to their chest like a poker player holding pocket kings and scared the flop is going to give you the upper hand instead.
The sitter is busy.
The bitch won’t share her babysitter.
Too bad, because I have a really good evening sitter for her….if I don’t need the sitter myself. Yes, I’m a bitch that won’t share my babysitter either.
