I’ll be honest and admit that I wasn’t entirely easy with the idea of looking after other people’s children initially. Largely in case I didn’t like them. Let’s face it some children are horrible. Or in case they didn’t like me and spent the time screaming and throwing stuff. Or worst of all that my kids wouldn’t like them or they wouldn’t like my kids. Because how do you handle that? I mean I’m allowed to not like my children sometimes but other people aren’t (see irony of my first point).
The desire to run screaming from other people’s kids conflicts with the large part of my personality that desperately wants to help people out. This is highly fortunate as it forced me out of my comfort zone and, do you know what? It really isn’t that difficult. Although to be fair I’ve probably only been exposed to pretty lovely kids. And nowadays it’s even easier because after school they take themselves off to play and barely need me.
Obviously there is the mess to contend with but I’m not exactly a neat freak (you’re kidding right?) so I make do with picking up the camouflage blanket off the lawn and occasionally emptying out bottles of perfume onto the flower beds. The rest I mostly step over.
School started back on Tuesday and things are going pretty well already. I think this afternoon shows clearly how far I’ve come:
Tilly: “Mum can we have some flour? We want to do an experiment”
Me: “Yes, provided you are playing with it outside”
Tilly: “Can we now have some plastic bottles and some water?
Mum: “Erm yes certainly (raids recycling).
“Mum can we have some pizza dough?
“Ok what about some butter and yeast?”
Ten minutes later
“Mum can we have a cheese grater?”
So there you have it. I feel like I’m getting the hang of this…