I just wanted to hold a baby. I wanted to snuggle my face into its chubby neck and smell baby powder and lotion. My two boys are giant teenagers and in no way resemble anything I could hold or rock to sleep on the front porch and actually, these days, I’d fit in their arms better than they in mine.
Since none of our friends have babies and the children next door are old enough to talk your head clean off and won’t sit still longer than a New York minute, I came up with a great plan.
Armed with the secret weapon of eye-batting, I managed to talk my husband into volunteering with me in the church nursery. One hour each Sunday, we’d be able to play with all the roly-poly babies, then hand them back to their grateful parents. We’d been there— done that, and were more than glad to help the next wave of sleep deprived young couples.
We didn’t know these days, you can’t just show up at the nursery and tell them because you haven’t lost or killed your own children, you’re . . . click HERE to finish the story on al.com.
Maybe because I taught Kindergarten (loved those five year olds) people assumed that would extend to nursery work. Yikes! I identify so completely with your story I can’t stop laughing .
There’s not much difference in a 40 and 45 year old, but there’s all the world of difference in a 1 and 5 year old, isn’t there?
Do you know it is dangerous to read this story while drinking a hot cup of morning coffee? I should know this by now! Good for you and your mister for trying and bless everyone of those nursery volunteers…………….
I’d rather be locked in a room with five year old all day than the nursery for one hour, and I know others who are just the opposite, so it proves, we all need to find our gifts! Thanks for the note, hope you have a fun weekend!
Tooo funny Leslie Anne. I always leave your site with a smile. Have a good weekend.
Thanks sweet Katie. You enjoy your cool North East weather!
Hysterical! I can relate.
Guilt loves company. Thanks.
Leslie Anne, this is funny stuff and I feel your pain! However since we now have our first grandchild, I was thinking I should volunteer for the nursery…now I don’t know!
Some people love it. I remember Mr. and Mrs. Dobbs at my church in Pensacola who LOVED the baby room and took care of generations of children! They were the most patient, gentle people you’d ever meet!
Oh no! While I admit that I admire you immensely for volunteering, I repeat, oh no! As in oh no what were you thinking!!! I don’t know how day care workers do it, all of them saints indeed!! And just for the record, even if they are your own grandchildren, pass them back to their parents at diaper time if possible!
I was hoping it was different with grandchildren. Saints is correct!