Hans, the Babysitter

Today was an exceptionally average day…until the husband came home. We cleaned the apartment with the help of a new motivational job chart that Atrain really took to heart. Of course there were a few sword-fighting sessions between chores, but I was pleasantly surprised by Atrain’s ability to stay on task. Jdog (aka baby Michael from Peter Pan) hung around my waist and screeched at his big pirate brother named Tiffany (still unsure about the origin of scurvy name). We had lunch with a few work friends at the cafeteria. It is always fun to see Atrain’s excitement over the food selection and soft serve ice-cream machine. “Mom, I can’t believe this,” was the phrase of the afternoon. We ran a few errands, got dinner ready, and played in the sand box. By all accounts, it was going to be an exceptionally average day.

And then the husband came home. He surprised us while we were making 4-wheeler tracks in the sand box. We chatted about our days as we watched Atrain play. Then, from somewhere within the deep, beautiful recesses of the husband’s marvelous mind, a light bulb turned on. “Tonight is my AOA banquet,” he said urgently. “What?” I asked, not because I didn’t hear him, but because it was a little hard to hear that tonight was the ceremony where he would finally get a little recognition for the thousands of hours he’s spent frying his brains on text books for the past three years. And we didn’t have a babysitter.

Panic mode. I couldn’t just throw in my chips and fold. I missed my own honors induction banquet and it’s my only MPA regret. Atrain was extremely tired, having missed his nap. I couldn’t take him. For a moment I considered loading him into trusty Bob stroller where he might fall asleep on the way to the banquet, but that was a stretch. Perhaps I could get him to go to bed soon enough that I could beg someone I was comfortable enough inconveniencing to come and stay with him while I jetted over to the awards ceremony. So, that’s what I did. But, my “comfortable inconveniencing” list isn’t very long, and after a few phone calls to other mothers, I had no luck. I started to consider accepting defeat as the husband walked out the door in his suit. It was simply too late of notice and too ridiculous to expect anyone to drop their lives to sit at my home while the big boy slept. As I put Atrain down for the night I sent out one last desperate text message to my buddy from work, a really nice, tough, dependable undergrad I’ll call Hans.

Jdog was asleep and I was lying down with Atrain, imagining the husband up on stage accepting his accolades with no one to take pictures of him, admire him, and to tell him to stop being embarrassed because he deserves all of the applause. As soon as Atrain fell into slow, deep breaths, I heard my phone beep. A text message. I wiggled myself free from our cuddle and untangled my hair from his fingers. I darted to my phone on the dresser and it was Hans. He could come, as long as his study group could come to. No problem. I even had a bunch of uneaten food on the stove they could eat while they studied. My heroes. I called to make sure that he was sure, and he was. As I threw on my nearest dressy outfit I wondered when the last time was that Hans had babysat.

The undergrad study group arrived just as I got Jdog loaded into the car seat. I thanked Hans, told him to eat anything in my fridge he wanted, and said to just call me if Atrain woke up. I can imagine how startled my big boy would be to find a few unfamiliar faces in his home without his mommy and it wouldn’t be pretty. But, I forgot about it, knowing that he would be safe. Hans is pretty strong. He could probably take anything Atrain had to dish out. Probably. I threw on my high heels and ran out the door, all the way to the medical school. There I found the handsome husband sitting at a table with an empty chair next to him, waiting for the keynote speaker to begin his speech. Jdog and I were a conspicuous addition to the formal, serious looking crowd. But I didn’t care. I swept my undone hair behind my ears, adjusted my skirt, cradled my baby in my arms and slipped in right beside the husband.

The husband squeezed my hand. A little smile grew across my lips. We made it. We still have another year to go, then another five years of residency after than, and (of course) a lot of decisions to make along the way. But, if we’ve managed to get this far. What’s another year? Sure there will be a few (or a lot) more forgetful evenings and desperate calls for babysitters, but it will be worth it. Just like it was worth it to hold his hand and watch him walk sheepishly to the front for his AOA top five in the class moment of recognition. I am sure proud of him.

I am also proud of Hans, who bravely answered a text from a desperate mother tonight, and drug his study group to our home to guard my sleeping boy. What a champ. All was well when we returned with left-over cheese cake in tow to offer our gratitude to the brave undergrads. Thank you, Hans. If you're brave enough to answer my call tonight, your mission call to Germany should be a piece of cake.