I’m sure somewhere on the “intrawebz” there are some “parenting commandments.” Probably an endless amount, actually. I decided I needed to put this out there as a PSA for all the moms and dads who leave their children in the care of stay-at-home moms, like myself.
Consider some things your babysitter might want to tell you, but won’t.
1. Thou shalt not think that being late because “you got to chatting about a big case” is acceptable. Also unacceptable: lateness due to a detour because it’s “easier to do the grocery shopping without your child.” Keep in mind, I grocery shop with my child and your child. I’m pretty confident you can handle it. Bottom line, at the end of the day, I look forward to your kid leaving just like you look forward to clocking out.
2. Thou shalt not make comments such as, “Man, you got it goooood. Makin’ a little extra cash while you stay home (wink wink).” Yes, it’s true I am making the aforementioned cash–at an approximate rate of five dollars an hour, by the way. I make said cash by being a referee, a maid, a diaper changer, a homework doer, a meal maker, a boo-boo fixer, a taxi driver. I could go on. If you are getting the perception that I am becoming effortlessly rich by caring for your children, you’re sadly mistaken. And a side note regarding the use of the word “extra”: watching your kids is not buying me Kors bags or Hermes scarves. It’s paying my electric bill.
3. Whilst we speak of cash, though shalt not assume that it is acceptable to pay me late. I am providing you a service. You agreed to pay for this service. Just as with any other household expense, I need to be paid on time lest you experience a lapse in service. Also note that by Facebook “friending me,” I will be privy to all the nights you spend at the bar, your new tattoos, and your weekend getaways. Do the math.
4. Thou shalt not automatically assume that I will also be caring for your child when they are unable to attend school because they are sick. Of course I understand; you don’t want to miss work nor do you want to contract whatever ailment your child is suffering from. However, a daycare would not accept a sick child, and there is no reason that you should assume that I don’t mind spending the day with your child and their emanating fluids. I don’t need to get sick either, and remember: I don’t get “sick time.”
5. Additionally, thou shalt not automatically assume that I will care for your child on a snow day. Alas, it is true. I will more than likely be home. But contrary to popular perception, I do have other commitments in my life that I work on during the day while children are in school (ie; writing snarky posts for awesome websites like BLUNTMoms). I am not just the keeper of the children. I am a wife, an athlete, a volunteer, and a writer. I do have a life outside of taking care of your kids.
6. Thou shalt not expect me to change my house rules because they differ from yours. If your child is permitted to use the arm of your couch as a launch pad for WWE matches, know that those kinds of things don’t fly in my house. If your child is permitted to arbitrarily change the channel while you are clearly watching TV, that’s not going to go well either. I don’t live in a museum, but I also don’t live in a barn.
7. Thou shalt not expect me to provide nourishment for your children. The way these humans eat is not only beyond my comprehension, it’s beyond my budget. I cannot maintain the equivalent of the two junk food aisles in the local convenience store to satiate your child’s incessant need to stuff their face. Pack them something. And might I suggest something other than Ho-Ho’s and Moonpies so we can avoid that whole WWE on the couch issue from commandment six?
8. Thou shalt not expect me to become your girlfriend. Surely your diatribe on how much of a bitch your boss is because you can’t Facebook at work would be far more entertaining if you were telling me the story at the bar after two martinis, but let’s face it. It’s not going to happen.
9. Thou shall explain to your child that I work for you. Not them. When an eight year old hands me a juice box without looking up from his smart phone and asks, “Can you throw this away?” we have a problem. We live in a middle class suburb, not the Upper East Side. I am the eight year old’s babysitter. Not his bitch.
10. Finally, thou shall remember the difference between a babysitter and a daycare–the biggest difference probably being the exponentially lower rate that a babysitter charges. Watching your kids is a job. Yes, a J-O-B, job. I may not have a degree in childhood development. I may not provide you with a curriculum for lessons that I am teaching your kids. But please, remember that I am an educated woman. I take good care of your kids. I have a fairly considerate amount of influence on them at this stage in their life, even if I only have them for a few hours a day.
I am not asking for anyone’s sympathy but please, remember, I am more than just “the babysitting bitch” and I deserve to be treated as such.
About the author: When Maura isn’t making questionable parenting choices she is obsessing over her blog Play Pen; The Irreverent Parents’ Guide. You can find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/PlayPenIPG and on Twitter @PlayPenIPG