The call came last week on Sunday morning.  My sister-in-law had gone into labor, and my brother asked me to babysit my 4 1/2 year old niece, Cameron, while newcomer Emerson was ushered into the world.

The challenges began almost immediately. As I took Cam to the park in order to spend a few hours while her mother gave birth, she immediately asked me why she couldn’t stay and watch the c-section.  And then she kept asking me about it.

What had her father told her? I didn’t know, so I just decided to give her a different answer every time.

“Why can’t I watch the c-section?”
“Because it’s boring.”

“Why can’t I watch the c-section?”
“Because it already happened.”

“Why can’t I watch the c-section?”
“Because your father only wants you exposed to As and Bs, in anticipation of your pending academic career.”

After the park and lunch, we went back to the hospital, waited a bit more, and eventually Cameron met Emerson:

My guess is that she is going to be a fantastic big sister.

This was the sweet and sentimental part of the day. Cold reality set in when I prepared to take Cam back to my brother’s house for a few days, as Geoff was planning to stay at the hospital with Emerson while his wife recovered. Geoff wrote out an schedule for me to follow. It was literally broken out into thirty and fifteen minute increments, such as:

7:00-7:30 Bath time. Use shampoo and conditioner then blow dry her hair.
7:15-30 Brush and floss her teeth.
7:30-45 Sing and read to her. Only three books.

I said, “You realize that if I can’t follow this, I’m just going to hunt wild game for dinner and then we’ll sleep on your roof.”

He said, “Just keep her entertained.”

Mostly it went okay, although there were many unforeseen problems. For example, she had issues with my lullabies.  Something as simple as “Are You Sleeping” met with protest because I would know it just a bit differently than Geoff did.  ("It’s din din DONG not DING DING dong,” she protested.  I said, “Look, I’ve heard your father sing before. Your problem isn’t that the words are wrong--it’s just that this is is the first time you’ve ever heard these songs sung in the correct key.")

And then there were the problems of her having trouble sleeping, not wanting to eat, and of course bouts of child rebellion:

“Cam, put your pants back on. It’s time to go to school.”
“NO.  HAHAHAHAHA!”
“Do you want to go to school without pants?”
“I’M STAYING AT HOME AND NOT WEARING PANTS!”

And then that evening, she snuggled up into my arm and said “I’m really glad you’re here, Uncle Greg.” And I felt bliss wash over me and I hugged her.  But then later:

“HAHAHA!  NO PANTS!”

I really hope she gets out of that phase by the time she turns sixteen.

It was an exhausting couple of days, but there was much that was learned.  For example, she learned that I take big bites when I eat ("That is half your head!") and I learned...well, I learned a lot of things.