Monday I will be babysitting my Godson for the first time. I’m actually quite excited. I am, amongst a few friends the best babysitter going, but I’ve never looked after anyone younger than three years old.
My Godson is 1yr old. This hit me with various problems. I need to make my house safe for a very young child. I’ve cleaned the house to within a inch of it’s life in the last week. That’s fine and not an issue. What caused me issues is that I’m a single man who lives on his own. Therefore I know not to put my fingers near a fire or plug socket. I know not to push against a flat screen tv or lean on a plant stand.
I spent most of yesterday trying to find a fire guard. Simply because I remember my parents having one. I was at a loss. So I did what any reasonable adult would do, I phoned my mother.
She assured me that I wouldn’t need a guard on the fireplace.
“Is he crawling”? She asked.
“Yes and walking a little” I replied.
“To he honest Paul I imagine you’ll be so worried about him you won’t take your eyes off him”. She reassured.
She was right of course. She’s my mother, she’s always right.
“Have you ever changed a nappy before?”
“Well no, but how hard can that be?” Fairly simple thing, I assumed.
“Make sure you put a mat down”.
Monday is looking like the day when I will be changing my first nappy. I didn’t realise how much of a step this is in an adults life. Suddenly friends have been offering advice. It’s all greatly appreciated but ‘I got this’.
Say that though-
How do you know when a nappy needs changing?
I assume from the smell, but without being rude, babies smell anyway.
And then, oh god, the sick. So many horror stories.
Still I’ll be just fine, I’ve got my mother on the end of a phone. That and over confidence will get me through a nappy change.
Hell, it’s my Godson. After a few hours he’ll be requesting a copy of The Times and drinking tea from a very small cup, all whilst sitting in a leather wingback chair growing a moustache and disapproving of various political situations going on in the world.