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.

Babysitting is easier when you put an “Uncle tax” on your brother’s instructions. For example, if he says read Cam three books, actually read four.  You are the Uncle, and you are not bound by rules any more than Chuck Norris is.

If you’re unable to precisely emulate your brother’s style, make up your own.  For example, if Cam doesn’t like the words you sing for “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” make up new ones--e.g. “Twinkle Twinkle Little Cam/You really like peanut butter and jam.” This will be a big hit.

The Sprout channel on TV is scary. That teenage girl who hosts it has this constant, frozen smile on her face like she’s been given a huge shot of botox.

When driving children to school, keep kleenex in the car at all times. If one sneezes and you turn around and she’s grinning at you through a glistening starfish of snot, you will be forced to empty your gym bag while crossing the Golden Gate Bridge in order to find a towel that she can use, which is all more of a Steve Guttenberg moment than anyone really needs.

Trust your instincts, mean well, and don’t go stingy on the ice cream--and children will give you all the slack in the world.

As for Em, whom I only met briefly--sorry I had to greet and run, but don’t worry.  I made a promise to Cam a while back and you get the same one.

In fact, it might even be more pronounced.  That was five years ago, and you have to account for inflation.

Posted by Greg at 04:46 PM on 11/23/08

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