End of Week One as Babysitter

I’ve got to tell you the most amazing thing about this is that my husband wants to be involved. Every day he comes over for about half of my nine-hour “shift” and brings lunch. He arrives in time to give Ella her morning bottle, while I relax and have breakfast, check my email, etc. Then we play with her and trade off keeping her interested as she winds down for her nap. One day I rocked her to sleep before putting her to bed, and I could hear Bill snoring in the recliner downstairs. I had the greatest feeling of peace, that my family was safe and happy.

My only real challenge is physical. My 56-year-old body is adapting to getting down on the floor with her, walking around with her in my arms, and going up and down stairs in my kids’ two-story house. However, I feel less sore after a week of it than I did in the beginning, so maybe it’s disuse and not old age.

On Friday night, I joined the busy flow of commuters driving into a beautiful crimson Southern California sunset. I listened to jazz and remembered all those years commuting to and from work, and I had the biggest smile on my face. Bill and I jabbered over dinner about the baby, how smart she is and how cute, and all the techniques we’re developing as sitters. He said it makes him feel younger, being involved with her.

My weekend has taken on new richness. On Monday, which is a holiday, Bill and I are going to do a “nine-and-dine”: nine holes of golf followed by lunch at The Yard House in Temecula.

One of the great things about the human brain is that it adapts to whatever situation it’s in. Whether you’re working two jobs or none, you expand or contract to fill the time that’s available. As retirees, my friends and I would sometimes look at each other and say, how did we ever find time for a job? But in the past week I’ve been more productive with my time, because I’ve had less of it. I’ve managed to do a lot of writing and other business, because I’ve had to make sure I used Ella’s down-time to get stuff done (again, thanks to Bill).

We often ask ourselves “where does the time go?” In this past week, I have felt very closely aligned with time. As I fall asleep at night, I feel good about the time I spent with Ella and Bill, and my contribution to my kids’ well-being. I have a sense of satisfaction that my day was well spent. That’s worth the aches in my 56-year-old bones.