The job of babysitting seems straightforward on paper: keep an eye on some children, feed them, keep them alive (critical skill: Pediatric CPR & Choking Response certification), and return them to their parents unharmed. Any experienced babysitter will tell you, however, that it’s more like managing a small, sugar-filled creche where your clients don’t respect time, reason, or personal space. It’s an occupation that calls for endurance, dexterity, and the capacity to compromise with someone who believes that socks are not necessary during the winter.
Both rewarding and chaotic aspects of babysitting are present, from bedtime stalling to breakfast fights. If you’ve ever had to deal with a toddler tantrum while attempting to remove a LEGO from a child’s nose, you understand the difficulty. However, there are also moments of pure joy amidst the toy tornadoes and snack-time negotiations, such as the cuddles from a tired child who finally gives in to nap time or the triumphant high-five following a successful potty-training session.
Hold on tight as we explore a day in the life of a babysitter, where nothing is predictable and snack crumbs are a sure souvenir.
With hope, the day begins. You come home prepared to take on another shift, with the necessary tools: a sense of humour, patience, and perhaps a cup of coffee (or three). You get a rundown from the parents: “They already ate breakfast!” which, as you know, is code for they had a sip of juice and two bites of toast before declaring themselves full.
A few minutes later, a tiny human is saying, “I’m hungry,” while gazing up at you with big, naive eyes.
Breakfast quickly becomes a competition for the Olympics. You offer fruit, eggs, and possibly muesli as alternatives. They’re craving pancakes. You cook pancakes. They’re craving waffles now. The toddler’s strategies for negotiating are on par with those of highly skilled lawyers. One waffle, one pancake, and one bite of uncooked banana are the compromises you ultimately decide upon.
In the meantime, the infant is throwing their breakfast across the room as if it were a food fight competition audition. The dog, if there is one, has already eaten half of the meal, and the toddler, who hasn’t eaten much, has somehow smeared syrup on their face, the table, and—most impressively—your sock.
Additionally, they ask for a snack right after you think breakfast is done.
It’s time to entertain the kids now that breakfast is (mostly) finished and the kitchen is a crime scene. Now is the time for the actual strategy. They must be kept involved, their limitless energy must be expended, and above all, the house must not be completely destroyed.
You begin with toys. All of their toys are on the floor within five minutes, and for some reason, they only want the toy that their sibling is using at the moment. Channelling your inner referee, you mediate negotiations that would make the United Nations blush.
Arts and crafts are next. This is a good idea—until you discover that you gave a toddler markers without making sure they were washable. The table, the walls, and a large section of your arm are all transformed into a “masterpiece” after a few minutes.
It seems safe to spend time outside. Less breakable stuff, more room to run, and fresh air. However, the game swiftly becomes a high-stakes version of “chase the toddler before they eat a bug.” Meanwhile, you have exactly three seconds to stop the baby from eating a fistful of dirt because they are determined to do so.
By mid-morning, you’ve prevented several escape attempts, prevented a few inedible items from being swallowed, and gained a newfound appreciation for preschool teachers.
Now that the mayhem appears to have subsided, lunchtime has arrived.
One thing is certain—lunchtime negotiations are about to start because it’s noon. Lunch is a full-scale conflict, if breakfast was a struggle.
You serve a sandwich, some fruit, and perhaps some vegetables as a precaution. As though you’ve just given them a plate of poison, the toddler looks at it. Even though they had the exact same thing yesterday, they say, “I don’t like this.”
You present alternatives. Macaroni and cheese? No. Nuggets of chicken? No. What is their favourite yoghurt? Peasant, not today. Cookies are what they want. You offer a compromise in response: have a cookie after three bites of actual food. To one tiny nibble, they haggle it down. To be honest, you’re tired, so you agree.
The infant, meanwhile, has come to love throwing food. A spoon has disappeared into the abyss, mashed potatoes are in their hair, and peas are now on the ground.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you are able to feed them. Winning? Not quite. “I’m still hungry,” they remark nonchalantly as you begin to tidy up.
The cherished, legendary hour of sleep that babysitters long for is nap time. The part where you might even sit down for a moment if everything goes according to plan. Getting the kids to sleep is the first step, though.
It’s time to occupy the afternoon with “quiet” activities now that you’ve had your nap—or lack thereof. This is a spoiler alert: it doesn’t exist.
It’s harmless to begin with arts and crafts, right? The baby is trying to eat a crayon, the toddler has transformed into a walking glitter bomb, and the table is covered in glue in a matter of minutes. Your arm now has an unintentional marker tattoo from somewhere along the line.
Cartoons will be the next topic. Peace for a moment? Not quite. The toddler has seen the same Paw Patrol episode 47 times this week and wants to watch it again. In the meantime, the infant locates the remote control and, with laser-like accuracy, turns off the television at a critical juncture. Meltdown happens.
Seeing that a diversion is needed, you propose constructing a pillow fort. After a round of enthusiastic applause, you realise that you have committed to 30 minutes of intense interior decorating, only to have the entire thing destroyed five minutes later in a dramatic Godzilla toddler attack.
You have one hour left in your shift, and you can see the finish line. You simply need to live a little while longer.
You’re wondering if you’ll ever be able to remove the glue from your hands, toys are all over the place, and snack crumbs have created a whole new ecosystem on the floor.
You hear the front door open at last—the reinforcements are here! Despite the mess, the chaos, and the toddler negotiations, you realise as you step outside, exhausted but triumphant, that you wouldn’t trade this job for anything.
That is, until you reply to a text message that says, “Hey, are you free to babysit again tomorrow?”
Whether you're a seasoned babysitter or just starting out, being prepared for unexpected emergencies is crucial. If you want to feel confident and ready for anything, check out our Pediatric CPR & Choking Response Certification Course. This comprehensive program will teach you how to prevent, recognize, and respond to choking and other life-threatening situations. Plus, you can gauge your knowledge anytime by taking our free Pediatric CPR & Choking Response Practice Test, ensuring you’re always well-equipped to keep the little ones in your care safe.
Takes 1 minute. No credit card required.