Our new kangaroo

I am not sure why, but here in Barcelona babysitters are called “canguros” which is the Spanish word for kangaroo. Anyway, we figured we needed one. We are starting work next week, we have friends scheduling visits and it would be nice for Alec and I to go out on the town now and then. So we got the name of a prospective canguro—Andrea-- from Lisa Pram (Raquel’s niece), whose friend has employed Andrea’s sister as her canguro for 5 years. Alec called her this morning to set something up—we figured it would be a good idea to ease the kids into the idea. As it turned out, she was free this evening so we figured we’d go for it, and asked her to come at 7:30.

I think today is the hottest day we’ve had so far. Alec needed to get some work done, so I took the kids for a swim and a movie (Como Perros y Gatos: La Revanche de Kitty Galore (Cats and Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore)—in Spanish, in 3D) and left him home with his computer. We also needed to pick up the filter for the fish, so our plan was that Alec would pick the kids up after the movie, and I’d get a little workout in at the gym before heading back home where we’d all meet up with Andrea.

Somehow, we neglected to discuss how we would break the canguro news to the kids and Alec assumed that since I’d spent all day with them, I would have told them. To be honest, it crossed my mind, but we were having such a good time and I knew it would not go over well. So I punted. I meant to tell Alec when he picked them up but… somehow that didn’t happen either. I know, I know, pure avoidance on my part. So I’m out of the shower and getting dressed at the gym when my phone rings. It’s Alec of course. He’s driving back from the fish place. “So, I guess you didn’t tell the kids about our plan,” he says, “which is fine, but I have a major revolt on my hands here. These kids are not happy.” He had agreed to meet Andrea at the metro stop and asks me to do it on my way back from the gym.

I meet her and she’s super nice. I prepare her that she might not get the best reception from our kids. And sure enough, when we enter the apartment and I introduce her to the kids, they practically shoot daggers at her with their eyes. And then turn their backs to her and go back to watching the fish, who now have names (Cyclone (C.C.’s) and Fishy (Milo’s), along with their new filter and a hideous plastic plant that takes up a lot of the real estate in their roomy, costly tank. Fortunately, Andrea is not thrown off by the reaction; she has two kids of her own so she has probably seen it all.

We feed the kids dinner, and try to orchestrate a conversation, but they refuse to ask or answer questions. It’s clear by now that there is no way we are going to be able to leave before they are in bed, and perhaps not until they are sound asleep. So we continue with the bedtime routine—Alec and Andrea read with Milo, and I read with C.C. She takes the opportunity of being alone with me to tell me exactly what she thinks of our plan:

“Mama, I don’t want that person here..”

“I know, C.C., but we need someone to help take care of you now and then, and it seemed like a good idea to start with just a little time—Daddy and I are just going to the corner for a little dinner and we’ll be right back.”

“In ten minutes? Can you be back in 10 minutes? And why do you need to go out anyway?”

“Moms and Dads need special time, just like I need special time just with you.”

“Well, why can’t you just talk to each other here, after we’re asleep. There’s no way she can be like Blanca.”

“Of course not, C.C. No one can ever replace Blanca. But if you give her a chance you might like her. You had Simba and Annie watch you sometimes in Brooklyn.”

“Yeah, well, I had Simba for like 100 Ethical Cultures, and I’ve known Annie since preschool!I don’t even know her! How can I have a babysitter I’ve never even met!”

She has a point. Blanca started working for us the day C.C. was born. Other than family members, we had never used another babysitter until about a year ago. Whenever we needed someone, Blanca was always grateful for the opportunity to make some extra money. And then, as C.C. pointed out, we were lucky to be able to find other people—like Simba and Annie—that the kids already knew and liked. So we definitely had a hand in creating the monster that reared it’s head this evening.

“I understand, C.C. It’s not easy.”

“I’m seven years old, you know. I have opinions! And they count!”…..

Surprisingly, C.C. goes to sleep relatively quickly. Milo is the tricky one, flopping like a fish and gripping onto Alec so that he can’t leave. Alec leaves for awhile and then goes back to try again with Milo. Suddenly Milo stops his flopping, sits up in bed and says:

“Okay, Daddy. You can go if you have to go. But I need one thing.”

“What’s that, sweetie?”

“Give me all your euros.”

Alec empties his pocket of change and Milo grins a huge grin and says, “Just put it on my bedside table and I’ll put it in my Ninja Turtle bank tomorrow.”

And that was that. We had a lovely dinner at a little Italian place with tables outside near the entrance to the park down the block.