You can't call it babysitting. They're my own kids. So, for the next four days I am "parenting" my two boys (Ages 3 and 8 months).
I've never thought it was easy for my wife to do it, and I am sure that I will soon discover exactly how "un-easy" it is. As I write this, Wyatt is upstairs crying in his bed. He fights sleep like no other kid. I am sure that someday he will be like any other teenage boy and sleep more than a three-toed sloth. Wes is watching "Go, Diego, Go" (which might be where I got the three-toed sloth idea).
I guess the biggest attribute a parent needs to have is patience. It took Wes 15 minutes to get his clothes on this morning! He gets distracted ("Daddy, can you help m...hey, look at that elephant!"). I often wonder if that is just being 3 or if he is unusually distracted. Well, I better go...Wyatt is still crying...he might need his pacifier (either that or some horse tranquilizer!)
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