‘Not me. I got a very cool reward.’
You may have heard that it’s been very hot this summer. Heck, you may have experienced this heat wave yourself.
As luck would have it, I got to sample record temperatures in the Midwest last weekend, and then I got to sweat it out all over again a few days later when the heat dome moved on to the East Coast.
When last I posted — with a story called “In Case You Didn’t Know It Already, I Love Weddings” — I had been asked to meet The Kids in St. Louis to babysit Mr. Baby while they went to a wedding. (I was telling someone about this, and she asked, “Who’s wedding is it?” “Heck if I know,” I replied. “I don’t get to go to the wedding. I’m going to St. Louis so they can go to the wedding.”)
The heat wave didn’t stop us from visiting the Gateway Arch. (Note, however, that we are hiding in a patch of shade)
Me? I didn’t pack anything I could have worn to a wedding even if I had been asked. You know, like, if they were lacking an older woman to fill a table. Nope, my duffel held just a bunch of spit-proof duds that I could crawl around a floor in. I did take a tuxedo shirt, since the SIL doesn’t own one. Plus cufflinks. Oh, and some Laduree macarons. The Kids love them (Laduree macarons, not cufflinks), so I always make sure to score a box before I travel to see them. They don’t take up much room, and I figure I’ll get asked back for my treats even if my child-minding skills prove a tad rusty.
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- I checked in…
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- …and got checked in on
Speaking of “rusty,” my instincts did kick right in. I didn’t have to remember to sway gently with Mr. Baby on my shoulder. I just did it. And that whispering-in-the-ear thing? Came right back. As did good ole tuneless humming and dancing around the room. Oh — and coaching:
What did prove rusty were my joints. The afore-mentioned crawling around on the floor is not for the faint of heart nor stiff of limb. Neither is the bending-over-the-Pack ‘n Play-to-lift-or-settle-the-baby. (Speaking of Pack ‘n Play, why isn’t my name Mrs. Graco? Everybody I know who knows a baby has a Graco Pack ‘n Play, including me. The Kids have at least two, plus there’s the one we bought to put in the Air BnB. Printing money, that lucky Mrs. Graco must be.)
The Pack ‘n Play that lives at my house; “changing table” (ie “twin bed”) in foreground
I did get to go to a wedding-related event on Sunday morning — an event not requiring festive attire. This was an outdoor brunch where you could chat and/or play pickleball. (Guess which I opted for?) One lovely young wedding guest (whose parents were babysitting her daughter back home) asked what I found most different about watching a baby now as opposed to Way Back When.
Lovely young wedding guest’s husband, who demonstrated remarkable baby-comforting skills. Because he is also a Dad or maybe because he looks a lot like the SIL
“The gear,” I promptly replied. “All that stuff!” As I wrote in “It’s a Good Thing This Baby is So Adorable,” babies these days seem to require so much gear. Or, at least their parents do. I mean, this baby has a white noise machine. And as for the baby monitor? I demonstrated the one I used: I cupped my hand to my ear while miming peeking around a bedroom door.
To sum up, my babysitting gig was utterly satisfying as well as utterly exhausting. But, unlike those weenie British foreign service employees back in the day who got posted to St. Louis, I did not get — or even request — hazardous duty pay. I earned enough smiles to last me all summer — or until the next time my skills are required. Which I hope will be soon, or he won’t need my coaching anymore:
Amagansett, New York. July 2025
