I'm a 27-year-old babysitter
Sometimes I feel a little ridiculous that I'm a 27-year-old babysitter. Many of my 27-year-old friends in the Midwest HIRE babysitters on Saturday nights, and I still AM one! But then I remember where they are and where I am. And I also remember that I make $20 an hour babysitting, and I usually still go out afterward... so, then I don't feel so pathetic.
The money is great, but the truth is (and don't tell anyone), I really like babysitting because it makes me feel like I'm a part of a family; it reminds me of home. It's hard to explain, but since moving to the city, I find something so comforting about being in a home, a real home with carpet and a landline and marks on a wall showing how much the kids have all grown in the last 9 years. Homes that are decorated for holidays with drawings on the fridge and concerts, games, and playdates marked on the family calendar. It helps that a lot of the families I babysit for also make me feel like a member of their family. They give me a set of keys and mail me Christmas cards and send me home with leftovers. They hug me when I arrive and when I leave.
One night a few weeks ago, a girl I watch in the Upper East Side fell off her bed and needed to be taken to the ER. Her mom called me in a panic to see if I could come and stay with their other daughter while they went to the hospital. I rushed over the Brooklyn Bridge in a hurried cab, and then comforted, cleaned, and waited up until 3am when the parents came home with a 12-year-old with a pink cast. I thought about if this had happened to me when I was 12-years-old; my aunt or cousins or grandparents would have come over, but in NYC "family" is something more broad than blood. I realized that not only do these families feel like family to me, I'm family to them too.
The money is great, but the truth is (and don't tell anyone), I really like babysitting because it makes me feel like I'm a part of a family; it reminds me of home. It's hard to explain, but since moving to the city, I find something so comforting about being in a home, a real home with carpet and a landline and marks on a wall showing how much the kids have all grown in the last 9 years. Homes that are decorated for holidays with drawings on the fridge and concerts, games, and playdates marked on the family calendar. It helps that a lot of the families I babysit for also make me feel like a member of their family. They give me a set of keys and mail me Christmas cards and send me home with leftovers. They hug me when I arrive and when I leave.
One night a few weeks ago, a girl I watch in the Upper East Side fell off her bed and needed to be taken to the ER. Her mom called me in a panic to see if I could come and stay with their other daughter while they went to the hospital. I rushed over the Brooklyn Bridge in a hurried cab, and then comforted, cleaned, and waited up until 3am when the parents came home with a 12-year-old with a pink cast. I thought about if this had happened to me when I was 12-years-old; my aunt or cousins or grandparents would have come over, but in NYC "family" is something more broad than blood. I realized that not only do these families feel like family to me, I'm family to them too.
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