Yes, I'm a babysitter.
There is little glamour in telling people about the 30 hours I spend each week caring for a 1 and 4 year old. I drink 3 cups of coffee in the morning. I go home physically and emotionally drained, only to tell my family how much fun the day was; or if it was not fun, how tomorrow will be better. St. Philip Neri's prayer is often on my mind: "Get me through today Lord, and I will not fear tomorrow."
For no matter how much I've grown to love these kids, some days are horrible. Tantrums. Crying. Unrepentant disobedience. The outsider may ask, "Why continue at this job? Why babysit? How can such menial labor be worth the headaches?"
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