Eric Wivagg

Fall 2000

One day, my girlfriend, Danielle, asked me if I wanted to baby-sit her nephews for an afternoon and take them swimming. She didn’t ask this as a casual favor. No, this was a much more serious question than it sounds. She asked it in a tone that you might ask your parents for a new car. You see, I am scared to death of little kids.

My girlfriend and I get along great. We have been going out for about seven months and things couldn’t be better. We have a lot in common. We both enjoy the same things like food and movies, college football, and drinking beer. But there is one thing that we don’t have in common, and that is enjoying being around kids.

Danielle and I both come from similar families. We both have three siblings, we both come from the same social class, we both are the same age, and we care about our family a lot. But there is a difference. Danielle has been around kids a lot more than I have.

I am the youngest in my family (yes, only by a minute because my twin brother happened to come out first and to this day doesn’t let me forget it). I have a twin brother, a sister (4 years older) and a brother (7 years older). Danielle has an older sister, a younger brother and a younger sister.

When Danielle was younger, her mother babysat some of the kids in the neighborhood while their parents worked. Well, naturally, as Danielle got older, she helped her mother out with some of the younger kids. She took care of some of them and learned how to talk to and correct them. So, of course, she developed a familiarity and understanding of little kids.

I, on the other hand, have never dealt with little kids. I’ve never had to. I didn’t have any younger siblings, any younger nieces or nephews to be around, and I didn’t take many babysitting jobs. I did baby-sit this one kid but I just played baseball and watch television with him. Besides he was an older kid.

So when Danielle asked me that question, my initial response was no. Of course, she tried to sugarcoat it and make it sound like I wouldn’t be doing that much work. We would take them swimming and then get some lunch. No big deal, right? Well, for me it was and I knew it wouldn’t be so simple as that if she had to sugarcoat it.

My fear of little kids is not based on any horrific past experiences or anything. I just don’t know the proper behavior, how to speak, or what to tolerate. My apprehension also comes from the fact that little kids are not as maintenance-free as adults are and I know that. Little kids don’t know what they shouldn’t do and the consequences can be extreme. I lack the skills necessary to deal with them.

So, when Danielle asked me to "watch the boys" as she calls it, I was a bit hesitant. But I wanted to be a good boyfriend so I obliged, knowing it would make her happy. Of course, I made some stipulations that we wouldn’t watch them for that long.

So the day rolls around that we are going to do it. Of course, it had to be at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning, my least favorite time of that day to do anything but sleep. We went to pick them up at Danielle’s sister’s house, just across town. We arrived and spent thirty minutes putting on sunscreen, making sure the boys had their arm floaties, and getting instructions on when to bring them back. During this time, Danielle is working her magic and getting them into a frenzy about swimming. I am amazed at how long it takes to get these guys ready. When they finally are ready, we pile into my car. Actually it was a long process making sure they were buckled up safely and each boy was sitting behind Danielle or me.

Christopher is five and Andrew is three. They are Danielle’s older sister’s boys. Danielle of course loves them to death and thinks they are very precious. For me, I don’t feel that way because I don’t really know them and haven’t watched them grow up. I guess that is one reason that I don’t enjoy being around kids because I don’t have an attachment to them. When I am around them, they are usually acting up. Especially when I worked in a restaurant, I hated waiting on families with little kids because they would always throw things, not listen and be rude. So my impression of how little kids behave is somewhat tainted. I don’t have the patience to deal with kids. I have never had to develop that trait. But with Danielle’s nephews, I had to try.

We arrive at Danielle’s apartment (where we were going swimming) and unload. When we get to the pool we have to go over the safety rules and make sure the boys understand them. Then we put their arm floaties on. This is not as easy a task as you might think. The process is similar to trying put a beer can in a coolie that is just a bit too small.

During this process, I am watching Danielle to learn how she is communicating with the boys. What is she saying? How is she saying it? I learn that she needs to get a verbal answer if they understand before they can proceed. This first exposure of taking care of little kids was fascinating to me.

While in the pool, it is my job to look after Christopher since he is oldest and needs less supervision. But it is quite stressful. It is constant supervision. I can’t do my own thing. I have to keep my eyes on him at all times. It is quite a responsibility because in a situation such as a pool, a couple minutes of neglect can end up in tragedy. When I play with him, I have to be gentle. It’s not like I can toss him around and roughhouse like I would with one of my friends.

What Christopher likes to do is for me to throw him as far as I can. It is actually quite fun for him, but rather tiresome for me. But he never seems to want to stop. He is always moving. Meanwhile, Danielle plays with Andrew and tries to help him overcome the fear of the water. Christopher has just found the fun of jumping into the pool but only if someone will catch him. I was volunteered and was in for quite a treat. Kids don’t realize that sometimes they can hurt people. So when he jumped it was not like catching a teddy bear, but rather like a sack of potatoes

So after a couple of hours (which seem like a couple of days), we decide to go inside and get something to eat. This entails drying the boys off and taking the floaties off, much of course like trying to take a beer can out of a coolie that is too small. We decide to order pizza for lunch so I get on the phone and place an order. Seeing an opportunity to escape, I volunteer to go pick it up. I’ve never been so enthusiastic to go pick up pizza before. I just wanted a break from those guys. It isn’t that I didn’t like being around them, but I just wanted a break from the responsibility of watching them.

When I brought the pizza back, Danielle had the boys watching a movie. This was considered quiet time so the boys will have enough energy for the rest of the day. We enjoyed our pizza with an eye out to make sure the boys didn’t spill. Danielle cleverly filled their cups only a quarter full so that if they spill it won’t be a big mess. Of course, Andrew spilled his drink and Danielle was right there to clean it up. After we ate, we watched some more of the movie. I was sitting in a lounge chair, exhausted. Andrew saw me and climbed in and sat next to me in the chair. Danielle thought it was cute, and I thought it was one of the most amazing things I have experienced. For a little kid to sit next to me and to be totally comfortable around me was a new experience. All of the playing and constant supervision was worth the few minutes he was in the chair with me. I felt like I was beginning to understand what it was like to have kids, not that I wanted them anytime soon, but it was just a neat feeling.

Finally it was time to take the boys back home. We had some extra time so we decided to take them for a drive. The boys climbed in the back seat and we hit the highway. Not five minutes later I look back and both of the boys are asleep. Andrew was leaning over and drooling, looking quite precious, I admit. We drop the boys off and head back to Danielle’s. Of course what did we do? We both fell asleep, exhausted.

This was all a new experience for me and was fascinating. It was tiresome, too, and I saw a glimpse of the responsibility of what it would be like to have kids and have to take care of them for more than an afternoon. But I also understood what my parents went through with their children and the responsibility and joy they have gotten out of it. Children are amazing and I am now just seeing that for the first time. But I do know I don’t want kids for a long time. I’m still a kid myself, so for now I’ll just watch someone else’s.

In revising this paper, I changed a few things. I changed all the grammatical mistakes and punctuation mistakes. I then looked at the notes of how well it was written. I changed how much I talked about my not dealing with kids. I also changed some of the writing to be more coherent and direct, making it easier to understand. Looking back at this piece for the first time since I wrote it, I realized how well I captured what I was feeling at the moment. After reading it, I can remember the day clearly and how I felt at the time. I think this is an example of good writing if I can write something then with certain feelings, and then read it much later and have those same feelings come back to me. I honestly portrayed my story and feelings and hopefully that can be seen by other readers.