Like putting socks on a baby

If taking candy from a baby is the easiest thing on Earth, putting socks on a baby is the hardest—at least if the baby in question is Madeline. This child seriously never stops moving. I got kicked in the face a couple times because I can’t seem to keep my head out of her way.

What if I told you that before this Monday, I had never babysat? Yvonne and Jonathan are officially the only people in the world who have ever entrusted me with their child. I grew up female and marginally responsible in America but somehow the babysitting thing never happened for me. It simply never came up. It just adds to my weirdness, doesn’t it?

So there I was on Monday, twenty-six years old with two college degrees, trying to figure out how to get the kid out of the carrier. There are a lot of obtuse buckles, but I eventually extracted Madeline from the contraption. She was very patient. Actually, she was patient with me all day.

Today is my third day of babysitting and probably after this, I will stop counting the days. Madeline and I are starting to get the hang of each other. We have not a routine but a rhythm, and I like to think that we are having a good time.