When I babysat last weekend for the six foster children, one bio and my own two, I was exhausted physically and emotionally at the end of the adventure. Who wouldn't after watching two year old twin boys, a three year old boy, a 7 year old boy and 10 year old girl who just found out they were never going back to their mother, a 13 year old OCD boy, and a ten year old bio boy. Babysitting is one thing, but this group of children was different. I blogged once on this, but deleted it because it was too emotionally charged.
I am happy that I was able to do this for a friend, and I'm glad that her kids did well during the weekend. Physically, the children did well. Emotionally, I think that her children did fine as well. I certainly tried to do my best to make sure that they got what they needed for the weekend and that they had a decent time. The problems were with me and my daughters: we were the basket cases.
I wear my feelings on my sleeves. I was even told this by a TAC officer during some Army training once! This weekend was no different, and I saw it in my children as well. We wore our feelings on our sleeves, pants, and underwear.
I have commanded hundreds of Army soldiers successfully. I have successfully dealt with Article 15's, counselings, staff meetings with generals. I was a store manager for several years. I hired and fired people. I had to deal with insane (literally) customers. I was responsible for hundreds of thousands of dollars of Army equipment and merchandise. Nothing prepared me for this babysitting weekend. The girls and I were not emotionally prepared for all the constant fighting, yelling, disruption, interruption, disrespect, fibbing, disobeying, and never-ending bedlam.
Sami has never dealt well with chaos, so I wasn't surprised when she shut down while we were babysitting. I felt bad for her and helped her through it. I just kept her by my side the whole time to help her feel safe. Honestly, I felt exactly the same way and wanted someone to comfort me. I watched Megan, but she just played and did fine and held her own. It turns out that she just put up a great front. The second I started the truck engine to go home, Megan started bawling because she was so happy to leave. She cried most of the way home, and we have a 45 minute trip. I felt horrible putting my children through this. I made a choice to put myself through this, but my children were not given a choice.
I naively thought that this would be a learning experience for my children. I thought that there would be a little chaos but that we would smooth over the bumps as they came. I thought all the children would play and frolic and get along. The problem was that there were no bumps. It was a demolition derby, 24/7, for three solid days. Was it good to show my girls how other children live? I don't know. It's good to know that a stove is hot, but that doesn't mean I want them to touch the burner for three days. I honestly think that my children were emotionally damaged by this weekend and it's going to take some time to heal fully.
My friend called yesterday and asked me if I would babysit the whole weekend again sometime, and I had to tell her that I couldn't, at least not for a long time. I told her that I'm glad I could babysit this past weekend for her, but I would have to think long and hard before I would consider doing a whole weekend again. If I do, I won't take my girls. I felt bad telling her no. I like my friend and would love to be able to help her out, but I emotionally can't handle it. Anyone who knows me knows how impossible it is for me to say no, but this was so important that I just couldn't' say yes.
I always do my best at everything I do, and in this case I did my best. It just wasn't good enough.
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