Not going according to plan

As you now know, I've been trying to shake the title "babysitter" from my job description and so far, it's just not working.  My baby sister is again in need of a babysitter for my baby nephew, who, as adorable as he is, is a lot of work.  But, that's to be expected, he is only 7 months old, after all.  I really wanted to spend this week getting back to our routine.  Starting the year off with a whole new motivational mindset is working great for me, as long as I stop saying yes.  In my sisters defense tho, her babysitter is in the hospital, with an intestinal infection.  Ouch, ouch, ouch.  And my sisters back up babysitter, my mom, is out of town on business.

I'm not angry or anything, just disappointed that the fates, no matter how fricken hard I try to fight them, just keep throwing me back into the same situation and that is, taking care of someone else.  Whether it's chauffeuring someone around or watching someone else' kids, even if it's just due to dumb luck, I'm just done being that.  Since I was eight, I've taken care of someone else' kids.  My mom had my sister, her dad took off, she needed to work two jobs, I became her babysitter, against my wishes.  Then when I was twelve, she had another, then another less than a year later, evidently we only know of one cure for boredom in my family,  Then when their dad left, again she was stuck working and going back to school and once again, yours truly became her babysitter.  At fifteen, I decided I was tired of taking care of other people's children and what happened?  That's right, got pregnant with one of my own.  Didn't try to, but like most dumb ass teenagers, I wasn't putting too much effort into NOT getting pregnant.  Her dad was good though.   I use that term positively unsarcastically............for now. 

After that, it seemed, I became a nanny gypsy, going from kid to kid, at one time, having four extra kids to haul around.  And people wonder why I'm so damn looney, duh! 

Like I said, I'm not angry, I'm just done being that nanny gypsy.  My kids are twenty-one and sixteen now.  I'm finally able to have some time to really start concentrating on getting my shit together, before my kids are too old to learn from my example. 

So after this week, no more babysitting.  I mean it, dammit.  You hear me fate.  Stop it.  I mean it.  Don't make me a shut-in, afraid to answer my phone when someone calls or texts!  I really mean it this time.  Yeah, I'm pointing my finger at you, that's right, that's how much I mean it.

Stay tuned for more rambling...
Marisa