When my older daughter was born four years ago, it took me months to consent to allow a babysitter into our home so my husband and I could go out for dinner, and only then did I agree to it because he insisted it was a special occasion (“I’ll only turn 40 once,” or some bullsh!t like that, he claimed).
We went out to a special-occasion, fancy-schmancy restaurant, and I promptly wept in my sushi and sake the entire time. I imagined my months-old infant at home sobbing dramatically because I’d abandoned her. I was convinced she couldn’t eat or sleep because I wasn’t the one feeding or rocking her. The emotional scars would be like tattoos on Rihanna — seemingly everywhere.
Turns out, I was right. Kind of. She did cry and fuss a bit, according to the babysitter, but ultimately she fell asleep. Me? Not so much. It took me a few years after that to really ever leave her with a babysitter again, and on the occasions when I did, I’d find myself lying awake at night before and after worrying, fretting and then worrying some more about every little thing that could possibly go wrong anywhere and at any time.
Four years later, I have another daughter, who is now one, but this time it only took me a matter of weeks to leave her home with someone else — anyone else, actually.
Here are 10 reasons why I have a babysitter (quite unapologetically, I might add):
Photo credits: iStock
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