My dear friend told me she might start sitting a kid. “Sitting” a kid? “Watching” a kid? “Spending time with” a kid? I don’t know what the proper terminology is here. Basically, it is my understanding that she is going to make sure this kid doesn’t die, which is a huge responsibility in my opinion.

There are few things I admire more than a babysitter. Nanny? Sitter? Guardian? WHAT IS THE CORRECT TERM HERE? I SERIOUSLY DON’T KNOW. I don’t want to offend or upset anyone. I’m learning. I’d say leave a comment to let me know what to call a person who makes sure children don’t die, but number one I don’t think anyone is actually reading this, and number two I don’t think comments are enabled. Email me. Something.

Okay update… I just searched “proper term for babysitter” and I’m seriously disappointed. Two of the suggestions are “governess” (is this Jane Eyre?!?!) and “mother’s helper” (dramatic eye roll).

ANYWAY, I’m not very good with kids. I completely freeze up in the presence of a child. I feel like I’m supposed to perform for them, but I’m always failing the performance. I also do this thing where I talk to four year olds like they’re fourteen and I talk to fourteen year olds like they’re four. I can never tell what is age appropriate. At an even more basic level, I can’t tell the age of the kid to begin with. I’ll kneel down to a teen and be all “Hey cutie pie, how are you today?!” with the fakest smile I can muster, asking them if they like Frozen or Puppy Patrol or some shit, and then I’ll talk to a toddler about my mortgage and Roth IRA. (Kidding. I don’t actually have a Roth IRA, but I think the mere fact that I mentioned it gives me some street cred with all of my financial advisor friends, which are many.)

I just feel like I’ve only ever had two kinds of experiences with kids.

Scenario one is they don’t like me at all. It’s clear because they are giving me the stink eye as I’m trying to speak to them and quite honestly, I don’t blame them because I am very ill-prepared for this conversation (and also because, as my friend has informed me, if you talk to pre-teens like they’re toddlers they will hate you). Scenario one usually ends with the child screaming, “MOM!” or “DAD!” or “ANYONE ELSE BUT THIS PERSON!” because they want to get away from me as quickly as possible. This leaves me internalizing and ruminating about the fact that I might smell or that my face looks scary. These are fears that I normally have anyway, but they are exacerbated by the fact that this kid is hurriedly trying to escape my (possibly smelly and/or scary) presence.

Scenario two is they are weirdly obsessed with me. They want to hug me and follow me around, but I’ve done nothing grandiose to warrant such praise, so it’s clearly their thing and has nothing to do with me personally. I don’t mind this. Scenario two is totally fine actually. I love my fans. But I’m still on edge the entire time thinking I am going to screw up what I have somehow managed to pull off (convincing a kid I am “cool” and worthy of their love).

My friend says that if I’m not trying to make money by spending time with kids, or have any kids, I don’t have to worry about the fact that I have a hard time interacting with them. This thought was reassuring, but I can’t help but flashback to all those times…

The time I used the word “attentive” while talking to an 8(?) year old and they looked at me like I had two heads. He said, “What’s attentive?” in such an accusatory way that for a second I thought the word wasn’t even real and that I had made it up. Then I felt like I was an even bigger fraud than I did before I had invented the word “attentive.”

The time I had to monitor a girl scout troop and one of them looked at me and said, “You’re our protector,” in a way that was both very endearing and immensely terrifying at the same time. I panicked and muttered something to the effect of “Oh hell no, no no no no not me,” which led the child to frown and not speak to me for the rest of the day and also led a nearby parent to frown, and, well, also not speak to me for the rest of the day.

The time I was tasked with watching a family friend’s child at a holiday party for a total of 15 minutes, during which time the child had to use the bathroom (of course). I asked if she needed help in the bathroom before she went in, which was apparently very offensive, because she had been going to the bathroom on her own for a number of years. I couldn’t tell if she was angry that I had assumed she was less capable than she actually was, or if she was creeped out that I had asked to accompany her into the bathroom. Probably both. Haven’t seen her or the family since.

To sum all this up, I was going to write “don’t leave me alone with your children,” but I realized that doesn’t sound great. You can leave me alone with your children if you want, but don’t expect me to wow them. And you know what? I guess that’s okay. Maybe I just need more practice, as my friend suggested. I’ll sum this up by saying let me practice on your children. Okay no, I don’t like the sound of that either. JUST LET ME BE ME. Don’t judge me for not being a natural with kids, and I won’t judge you either. Thanks.