Some of the news that's fit to print

It's been a busy two weeks since I last posted (was it really back on 2/13?) I worked a busy 3 days last week so I could take Thurs and Fri off to babysit Sis 1 of 2's daughters while she was at the Vegas National Conference.

Let me tell you that I love my nieces to bits. They are smart, funny and they love to laugh. Samantha is 6 and her reading is going *so* well! Katherine will be 4 next month and she's sharp as a tack. Samantha read to me from several of her books (including a book from her other Auntie) and Katherine wanted to hear Little Black Sambo at least 3 times a day!

Sambo's story was one I hadn't thought of in a long time. I remember going out to breakfast to Sambo's in Vancouver when we were much younger and I loved to look at the mural on the wall of Sambo riding on the back of one of the tigers. Now that I think about it, the mural didn't portray any scene from the book other than a young boy and tigers. And the restaurant is no longer there either.

The girls and I loved growling like tigers at the right spots and saying to each other "purple slippers with crimson soles and crimson linings." And I only had to explain to Katherine once that trousers were the same as pants. Each time the section of the book came up with Sambo's blue trousers, she would point out that "trousers were the same as pants, Auntie Gina."

This book was a gift from Miss Micki, an octagenerian who lives with them. Katherine, for some reason, wanted to have me read the preface each time. The preface explained that the publisher chose to print it again despite the book's controversy as perceived racism. The girls didn't view it that way; we just enjoyed the imagery of colorful clothing and Sambo dealing bravely with tigers who wanted to eat him up.

Can I also mention that my nieces can give me a migraine? As much as we all enjoyed each other's company, I also had to deal with hurt feelings, argumentative 6-year-olds (yes, Samantha, when you disagree with *everything* said to you, even when you aren't in a fight, that's a form of arguing) and a 3-year-old who screams at the top of her lungs when she doesn't like what you said to her (and then grunts when you calm her down enough to try to reason with her).

It's a this point that I would like to say that Stay-At-Home-Parents have my complete and utter respect for what has to be the hardest job in the world. Long hours, no pay, lots of snot, tears and laundry. And that's just what YOU go through. But the benefits and ultimate pay-off are worth the time. Right?

More on my Adventures in Babysitting later.