The Gift of Time -- Priceless

This past week has taught me that I am in possession of one of the world's most precious resources: unstructured time.

This is how I became caretaker of Brandon. I was between jobs, Carla (his mom)was looking for someone, AND HE'S SO DARN CUTE. I consider myself sort of a "boutique" caregiver, generally taking on one kid at a time who become my own during the day. Maybe this is my penance for not staying home with MY kids while they were babies.

This will be tested in a couple of weeks when I will be adding Max to the mix, who is only 7 months younger than Brandon. It's mind-blowing to see what a difference that makes at this stage.

A couple of days ago another neighbor called wondering if I could hang-out with her 4 year-old for about an hour so she could go to a yoga class. I was ready to do it, but the class wound-up being canceled. So I took Brandon to the library, where the very-expectant librarian looked at me longly and said "You babysit? You know, I'm going to need someone one day a week when I'm ready to go back to work..." AAAH, I'm not looking for these jobs. They keep looking for me!!

So I think it may have even been later that same day that the local elementary school called me as an emergency contact for my across the street neighbor whom they'd been unable to reach. Her son had complained of not feeling well after snack, and there was some concern about a food allergy. I drove around the city parks looking for my neighbor, then picked her son up at school and brought him home. (All was well, he wasn't having an allergic reaction and his mom had gone to the library with her other kids and was home by the time I got there.)

It got me to thinking what a rare commodity I am -- someone who was home and could run to the school. I was also the rare mom who could go on field trips and bake for special events when my kids were in elementary school. (I left the normal workaday world when my kids were in school all day. What planning!!)

You mean, women used to do this stuff all the time?

There is something to be said for having a parent-type at home, and I don't think it has to be the mom. It's not an easy job. I can see how the stereotypical 50's housewife was a secret valium abuser or alcoholic. The boredom can get mind-numbing, and I feel like getting a t-shirt that says "I have a college degree." Yet I certainly feel that I'm filling a critical void.

Perhaps after we reform health care (and recover from the whole process) we'll be ready to take-on child care reform.