Babysitting or parent-sitting?

Five days in a row this past week, I have babysat on five different occasions for four… Five days in a row this past week, I have babysat on five different occasions for four different families for a total of 19 hours.

I am wiped out.

Not only because I have been chasing 1-year-olds and 2-year-olds and 5-year-olds and 8-year-olds around playgrounds and parks and backyards and bedrooms and kitchens, although that makes up at least 40 percent of it. One-year-olds and 2-year-olds and so on, take a lot out of you.

But to be perfectly honest, I am mostly wiped out by observing their parents.

Parents have so much on their plates. Their options for anything are infinite: food comes in “organic” and not-so-organic (strawberries, yogurt, peas, corn, bananas, apples, milk, juice, bread, etc), punishment comes in corporal, verbal, something in between or any combination of the above. A parent can let her children watch television, ban the device completely or set about deciding exactly where and exactly what programs can be watched, and for exactly how long on exactly what days television can be watched. And so on and so forth.

At every house, there is a whole new set of commandments for me to keep track of. It exhausts me to think that each parent, or set of parents, had to sit down and create them all. And it’s not even like there’s one right answer or one book in which they can look it all up. Across the board, there are studies to prove one style is dangerous and studies to prove the opposite; reasons to doubt one method and reasons to stand behind it; issues, problems and questions everywhere.

Just the idea of it exhausts me. They must structure every facet of one, or several, individuals’ entire lives for the next few years. Naptime, anyone?

But aside from all the diaper-changing, schedule-coordinating, patience, the innovation and accountability that we all realize parenting entails, there is another word that always crosses my mind when I’m babysitting – acceptance.

Not only is their job a challenge, but they like it that way. They take every bit of it in stride. They accept their kids’ screaming, the sibling rivalry, the long drive to the nearest organic grocery store and having to watch “Barney” for the 39th time.

Playing a board game with two young brothers, I constantly berated the older brother for cheating. When he wouldn’t stop, I threatened, “If you don’t stop, you’re not allowed to play with us anymore.” He didn’t stop and he kept playing. So his younger brother and I decided to switch games. “Let’s all clean up,” I chirped, in my best babysitter voice.

“Fine,” he said. He began placing the pieces back in the box. In fact, he put away every single piece. I am a magical babysitter, I thought to myself. I was thrilled!

Suddenly, Older Brother dumped the box upside down, sending the pieces flying in all directions around the kitchen table. He cackled and bounced out of the room.

Fortunately, when I relayed the story to the parents later, they smiled appreciatively and agreed that the boy could be difficult. I admired the parents for recognizing a streak of stubbornness in their child. I also worried for them a little, because they also probably thought it was kind of cute. Parents love everything about their kids – which makes them incredible, but also a little crazy.

A few days later, I arrived at a friendly woman’s house to babysit her 2-year-old son. She suggested her son and I walk to the park together. Well, actually, would I mind helping little Petey ride his plastic tricycle?

Of course not. Among the details she neglected to tell me, though, are the fact that the park is a 45-minute walk away (I’m only supposed to be at her house for two hours), there is a five-street intersection to cross as well as several other twists and turns and the tricycle’s wheels are not suitable for the many hills on the way so he must frequently be pushed. Awesome.

But such a day is normal for her. She wasn’t trying to irritate me. It didn’t occur to her that we non-parents think twice about pushing a 2-year-old’s tricycle up a hill for blocks on end. She accepts the notion lovingly.

Acceptance. It’s a word usually used alongside “tolerance’ and “open-mindedness.” While those words work here, too, the kind of acceptance parents are dealing with is a devoted acceptance. They are in it to win it, baby. They will do anything in the best interest of their kids.

I know nothing about parenting firsthand. But after recently observing so much of it, all I can say is