Sometimes, my sister calls me at 4:30 — around the time I’m wrapping up the last of my work and planning my big night that usually involves something like a trip to Trader Joe’s, watching an episode of HBO’s “Girls,” hanging up the laundry that’s been left in the dryer and maybe a run. A 4:30 call from her or text that says, “What are you doing?” translates to “Can you watch the kids” in sister language.
Don’t get me wrong. Those calls aren’t too often, and I’m almost always happy to do it unless I’m really, really looking forward to going straight home to give the dog a bath or dust my bookshelf. Whoa, exciting life, I know.
Earlier this week, I got a call. And I went like a good sister trying to build up karma for some unknown favor. I wasn’t annoyed I couldn’t go home; just annoyed I didn’t have my swimsuit in the car, because I’d rather play in the pool with the kids than be the babysitter in the lounge chair. Ya know?
So, I helped my niece do a few of the things “mom said to do,” and was then persuaded to let them swim. Twist my arm, why don’t you?
Here are a few photos of the 6 o’clock hour with the kids, and a few more.
Friends shouldn’t let friends Instagram while babysitting. Seriously. I never think of anything bad possibly happening while I’m watching these kids, so I was super freaked out when 8-month-old Emmelia came rolling off the couch while I was standing beside her looking at my phone. She cried for a minute, and then was comforted with some rhythmic rocking on big-sis Sophia’s part and a bottle. That’s the photo above.
She downed the entire bottle. Then we kissed. And made up. “No hard feelings,” she said. We played with the camera while the big kids swam. Eventually we joined them to play underwater diner, where Sophia and Joseph served Emmelia and I organic quinoa with Swiss chard and farm-raised foie gras in the form of sticks and leaves.
Joseph is all grown up now that he is 5. It is sad. He got new big kid shoes. AND, he walks around holding the iPod to his hears, singing along with some awful wanna-be rock music. And then there’s this. I know. No words.