The Poconos: You Asked For It
It's kind of a long story....
The Back Story: This weekend I had planned on going to DC to see friends MM, DP, SL, KD, and MC! I more than needed a little Midwest love to cure my big city blues. But two days before I hopped on a bus with a weekend bag and a bottle of wine, I got a call from a family who I may potentially nanny for and have babysat for once before. They offered to be pay me $400 to go with the three little boys (ages 1, 3, and 6) and their grandparents (whom I had never met) to this resort in the Poconos Mountains for the weekend. This was a difficult choice to make, to say the least, but the fact that I don't have a job yet still have to pay my rent made my ultimate decision to forgo seeing my friends and instead go to the Poconos to make some money.
The Start: After arriving at the family's brownstone on the Upper Westside, I met the grandparents, affectionately called BeBe and BaBa by the children, and also learned that the entire family was getting over the stomach flu. Great. After a couple of hours of packing winter clothes, swimming gear, diapers, and toys all while hurdling three children and a couple of 76 year olds to the front door, we all piled in the family's Volvo. Wedged between two carseats, I prayed to God that BeBe and BaBa were going to be able to navigate their way out of the city using the car's navigation system and iphone directions. It was touch and go for a while, but we made it to the resort three hours, one crying fit, and two stops for directions later.
The Resort: Woodlock Pines Resort was unlike anything I have every seen. It was like the Pennsylvania offspring of a cruise ship, a ski resort, and a family theme park. There were planned activities everyday including BINGO, arts and crafts, musical shows, horse races, scavenger hunts, and more. Plus there were everyday activities like the sickest jungle gym I have ever laid eyes on (was genuinely jealous of the kids that were short enough to go in), bumper cars, arcades, an ice skating rink, and tube sledding. It was ridiculous. The meals were served each day in a huge dinner room where the waitstaff continuously brought more food and drink with every bite. There were more courses to the meals than I could keep track of. Some of that had to do with the fact that I was trying to feed/entertain 1 and coax 3 to eat. Overall, the facility was beautiful and the 8 year old in me was freaking out.
The Characters: Let me start off by saying that 1, 3, and 6 (which I will refer to them as) are all great kids. 1 is a happy-go-lucky bumbling baby boy who likes to be held constantly when he isn't running around the lodge or dinning hall greeting complete strangers with his adorable smile, slobber, and wave. 6 is the big brother of the pack, and thank God for that. He is inquisitive, adventurous, and enthusiastic, but his younger bros hold him back sometimes, and he is not sympathetic toward their ages at all. Sometimes there is some hitting involved. 3 has the most beautiful curly brown hair and giggles like a tickle-me-elmo. He is the most difficult of the three boys and shouted the F-word and "I hate you Bebe" to his grandmother more times that I would have allowed if only I had been in charge. Though they are adorable and unique in their own ways, collectively they are quite a handful, to say the least. I wasn't refereeing their fights alone, however; I had the help of BeBe, a dark haired, patient, yet out-of-practice mother herself, and BaBa, a retired doctor with the best old-man-Jewish accent I have ever heard. It was the three of us against the three of them. And we were ready for anything.
The Fighting: I'll leave out describing the everyday fights over toys, the fights over activities, the fights over who to sit next to on shuttle bus. I'm leaving out these details both because they're not fun to read but mostly because I don't want to have to relive them. There was a lot of fighting and crying and hitting, and I'll leave it at that. And that was just on Friday.
The Barfing: Around 4:00am on Saturday morning, 3, who had been sleeping next to me on the pull-out-couch, woke up bawling and screaming "I want my mommy." Luckily, Bebe came in and took him into her room, and he started barfing everywhere moments later. Not knowing about the puking, I went back to bed and woke up at 7:00 to the 1 year old bawling. I picked him up from his pack-n-play and the kid who I thought couldn't talk screamed very clearly, "I want my mommy!" and then barfed ALL OVER. Then there was lots of cleaning up and some diarrhea issues with both boys, and since I'm the hired help, I was the one responsible for cleaning up such disasters. Again, I'll spare the details.
Things were mostly under control all day until about 6:00 that night when we were supposed to all meet at the dinning hall for dinner. I knew something wasn't right with my stomach so I stayed with 1, fed him, gave him a bath, and put him to bed, and then I started barfing. And I wanted my mommy! It was really awful, and I had to tell BeBe and BaBa that I was out of commission for the night. I was down , and it was up to them. I spent the next 5 hours with a garbage can next to my bed. Around 2AM I realized I could keep down ice if I chewed it, and then I heard BeBe barfing in the next room. I thought, "ah, shit."
The ER: Around 3AM I woke up to 3 screaming in the next room. At first I thought 3 was barfing again, and I thought, "No way I can help with him right now." But then the lights came on, and I heard the phrase "We need to call a doctor!" so I took a deep breath and went in the next room. 3 was having some sort of asthma-related, congestive breathing attack and he was screaming and wheezing and coughing. It was absolutely terrifying, and the grandparents and I were panicked and freaking out. The on-staff doctor came and soon called the ambulance. As BaBa was on the patio trying to calm 3 down and BeBe was trying to compose herself (and her stomach) in the bathroom, the on-staff doctor started asking me questions about 3's birthday, his doctor, what meds he is on, etc. I felt my eyes get big, and I said, "I don't know. I'm just the babysitter." The EMT came and soon 3, BeBe, and BaBa were gone. I was left with 6 and 1 and a garbage bin by the side of my bed. By 4:30, I had calmed down a scared little 6, and he crawled into bed with me. One very, very short hour later, 1 was up and 1 was up for the day. And that meant so was I. BeBe, BaBa, and 3 came back shortly after and went back to bed for a couple of hours or so.
Coming Home: Sunday was a long day, and despite the fact that I thought we should pack up our things and go home right away, we stayed for breakfast, craft time, and lunch. 3 fell asleep in my arms on the shuttle bus, so I volunteered to stay with him while the others ate. We crammed back into the tiny Volvo, figured out how to reverse the travel directions, and headed back to the city. I have never been so happy to see the Empire State Building in my entire life. When I left the brownstone to get on the B train to come home, the boys all came running into my arms to say goodbye. 6 told me that I should spend another night at their house and that I could probably sleep in the bed with his dad (his mom could have the couch). Awkward! 3 said he loved me and 1 slobbered and waved. I waved and hugged back and ran the three blocks to the train station.
The Backlash: I got back to my apartment around 5:00 last night, made some ramen noodles, and went to sleep. I didn't get up until almost noon today. I'm exhausted and weak, and my stomach still hurts.
[Note to self: Add positive reflection on the experience when feeling better]
The Back Story: This weekend I had planned on going to DC to see friends MM, DP, SL, KD, and MC! I more than needed a little Midwest love to cure my big city blues. But two days before I hopped on a bus with a weekend bag and a bottle of wine, I got a call from a family who I may potentially nanny for and have babysat for once before. They offered to be pay me $400 to go with the three little boys (ages 1, 3, and 6) and their grandparents (whom I had never met) to this resort in the Poconos Mountains for the weekend. This was a difficult choice to make, to say the least, but the fact that I don't have a job yet still have to pay my rent made my ultimate decision to forgo seeing my friends and instead go to the Poconos to make some money.
The Start: After arriving at the family's brownstone on the Upper Westside, I met the grandparents, affectionately called BeBe and BaBa by the children, and also learned that the entire family was getting over the stomach flu. Great. After a couple of hours of packing winter clothes, swimming gear, diapers, and toys all while hurdling three children and a couple of 76 year olds to the front door, we all piled in the family's Volvo. Wedged between two carseats, I prayed to God that BeBe and BaBa were going to be able to navigate their way out of the city using the car's navigation system and iphone directions. It was touch and go for a while, but we made it to the resort three hours, one crying fit, and two stops for directions later.
The Resort: Woodlock Pines Resort was unlike anything I have every seen. It was like the Pennsylvania offspring of a cruise ship, a ski resort, and a family theme park. There were planned activities everyday including BINGO, arts and crafts, musical shows, horse races, scavenger hunts, and more. Plus there were everyday activities like the sickest jungle gym I have ever laid eyes on (was genuinely jealous of the kids that were short enough to go in), bumper cars, arcades, an ice skating rink, and tube sledding. It was ridiculous. The meals were served each day in a huge dinner room where the waitstaff continuously brought more food and drink with every bite. There were more courses to the meals than I could keep track of. Some of that had to do with the fact that I was trying to feed/entertain 1 and coax 3 to eat. Overall, the facility was beautiful and the 8 year old in me was freaking out.
The Characters: Let me start off by saying that 1, 3, and 6 (which I will refer to them as) are all great kids. 1 is a happy-go-lucky bumbling baby boy who likes to be held constantly when he isn't running around the lodge or dinning hall greeting complete strangers with his adorable smile, slobber, and wave. 6 is the big brother of the pack, and thank God for that. He is inquisitive, adventurous, and enthusiastic, but his younger bros hold him back sometimes, and he is not sympathetic toward their ages at all. Sometimes there is some hitting involved. 3 has the most beautiful curly brown hair and giggles like a tickle-me-elmo. He is the most difficult of the three boys and shouted the F-word and "I hate you Bebe" to his grandmother more times that I would have allowed if only I had been in charge. Though they are adorable and unique in their own ways, collectively they are quite a handful, to say the least. I wasn't refereeing their fights alone, however; I had the help of BeBe, a dark haired, patient, yet out-of-practice mother herself, and BaBa, a retired doctor with the best old-man-Jewish accent I have ever heard. It was the three of us against the three of them. And we were ready for anything.
The Fighting: I'll leave out describing the everyday fights over toys, the fights over activities, the fights over who to sit next to on shuttle bus. I'm leaving out these details both because they're not fun to read but mostly because I don't want to have to relive them. There was a lot of fighting and crying and hitting, and I'll leave it at that. And that was just on Friday.
The Barfing: Around 4:00am on Saturday morning, 3, who had been sleeping next to me on the pull-out-couch, woke up bawling and screaming "I want my mommy." Luckily, Bebe came in and took him into her room, and he started barfing everywhere moments later. Not knowing about the puking, I went back to bed and woke up at 7:00 to the 1 year old bawling. I picked him up from his pack-n-play and the kid who I thought couldn't talk screamed very clearly, "I want my mommy!" and then barfed ALL OVER. Then there was lots of cleaning up and some diarrhea issues with both boys, and since I'm the hired help, I was the one responsible for cleaning up such disasters. Again, I'll spare the details.
Things were mostly under control all day until about 6:00 that night when we were supposed to all meet at the dinning hall for dinner. I knew something wasn't right with my stomach so I stayed with 1, fed him, gave him a bath, and put him to bed, and then I started barfing. And I wanted my mommy! It was really awful, and I had to tell BeBe and BaBa that I was out of commission for the night. I was down , and it was up to them. I spent the next 5 hours with a garbage can next to my bed. Around 2AM I realized I could keep down ice if I chewed it, and then I heard BeBe barfing in the next room. I thought, "ah, shit."
The ER: Around 3AM I woke up to 3 screaming in the next room. At first I thought 3 was barfing again, and I thought, "No way I can help with him right now." But then the lights came on, and I heard the phrase "We need to call a doctor!" so I took a deep breath and went in the next room. 3 was having some sort of asthma-related, congestive breathing attack and he was screaming and wheezing and coughing. It was absolutely terrifying, and the grandparents and I were panicked and freaking out. The on-staff doctor came and soon called the ambulance. As BaBa was on the patio trying to calm 3 down and BeBe was trying to compose herself (and her stomach) in the bathroom, the on-staff doctor started asking me questions about 3's birthday, his doctor, what meds he is on, etc. I felt my eyes get big, and I said, "I don't know. I'm just the babysitter." The EMT came and soon 3, BeBe, and BaBa were gone. I was left with 6 and 1 and a garbage bin by the side of my bed. By 4:30, I had calmed down a scared little 6, and he crawled into bed with me. One very, very short hour later, 1 was up and 1 was up for the day. And that meant so was I. BeBe, BaBa, and 3 came back shortly after and went back to bed for a couple of hours or so.
Coming Home: Sunday was a long day, and despite the fact that I thought we should pack up our things and go home right away, we stayed for breakfast, craft time, and lunch. 3 fell asleep in my arms on the shuttle bus, so I volunteered to stay with him while the others ate. We crammed back into the tiny Volvo, figured out how to reverse the travel directions, and headed back to the city. I have never been so happy to see the Empire State Building in my entire life. When I left the brownstone to get on the B train to come home, the boys all came running into my arms to say goodbye. 6 told me that I should spend another night at their house and that I could probably sleep in the bed with his dad (his mom could have the couch). Awkward! 3 said he loved me and 1 slobbered and waved. I waved and hugged back and ran the three blocks to the train station.
The Backlash: I got back to my apartment around 5:00 last night, made some ramen noodles, and went to sleep. I didn't get up until almost noon today. I'm exhausted and weak, and my stomach still hurts.
[Note to self: Add positive reflection on the experience when feeling better]
Ohh man, I would have shut down and just started crying--no wonder grandma and grandpa needed an extra babysitter! I could tell at the beginning of the story, when you mentioned the family's previous stomach flu, that that wasn't going to bode well for you...if there is a stomach flu to be caught, you my dear, would be at the top of my list of people to catch it!
ReplyDeleteI think OMG says it best.
ReplyDeleteYeah, OMG...this is story reminds me a bit of the Meet the Parents story line--it cracks me up and just keeps getting worse :)
ReplyDeleteLOL Oh holy shit! That was the funniest and most horrific piece I have ever read from you. TOoo good. I'm glad your safe and back in Harlem. Be there soon to make you soup...if you are still feeling crappy come Friday.
ReplyDeleteI didn't realize it was just you and the grandparents until I read this. I know it sucked but thank goodness you were there to help those poor people! As much as your experience sucked just think, bebe and baba paid thousands of dollars in hotel expenses just to get puked on all weekend. I agree with Char, this is like a meet the parents scenario. Chapter four of our book perhaps?
ReplyDelete