On Kids That Are Not My Own…

My sister visited a couple weeks ago with my adorable niece and nephew. Her husband told me while we were at a park that my sister doesn’t like other people’s kids. She shoos them away, makes gross faces, and is overall pretty indifferent about them. Kinsey of course is family, so she loves her, but other people’s kids, yeah, not so much. I laughed a lot, then today, realized, I share her overall disgust.

Yesterday, I was walking from my car into our building and a man says “got any other kids?” I turned and said “Nope, just this one.” He says “I have a 5 year old girl, think she can come by sometime? We just moved, and her Mom is disabled, she’s having a hard time adjusting to the new building.” I pause, and say “uh, sure, I guess, like stop by to meet me?” He’s like “Yeah, you know, to see your baby.” I change the subject and say, “Well, welcome to the building, we just moved too, see you later.” It was kind of weird. Then the elevator was broken, so he comes in behind me and says “Oh man, you are going to have a hard time getting up the stairs,” I said, “Its ok, I’m only on the 2nd floor, I’ll be fine.” THIS WAS MY MISTAKE.

Today, I get back from taking the dogs out, Kinsey is fed and hanging out, and the door bell rings. Now, I assumed it was Fedex or UPS or something, or maybe the nice front desk lady with my newspaper…we don’t have a peep hole so I couldn’t check and its a secure building so I opened it. Little girl standing there with her poodle, and an old lady who says “This is Isabelle. She wanted to meet you, I’ll be right back.” And the lady leaves! Little girl, just plows right into my apartment. I’m confused obviously. Stressed? Yep. Pissed? Uh yeah. Who is this kid? What kind of person just drops their kid off at some stranger’s apartment? After about 30 minutes, and a solid 10 minutes of me saying “Do you parents know where you are? We should take you home.” To which Isabelle kept saying, “Yeah. No thank you. I forgot my toys.” Why would she need toys?! Finally, before I started breaking down into hormonal post partum tears, I said “I’m taking you home now, I’m not available to watch you, so we need to take you home.” I ask her what floor she lives on, she says 3. She leads the way. Her front door is open. The old lady is unloading groceries, the disabled mother is sitting in a chair in the living room, theres a mover guy in there, and they just say “hey, thanks for watching her!” I said nothing, turn around and left.

I know I’m supposed to be willing to help the disabled, lend a hand to people in need, but this was not ok with me. And, overall, this little girl was annoying. Her pants kept falling down, she was picking her nose, kept trying to play with my precious angel baby…and what the shit?! Why was this girl in my apartment to begin with? The creepiest part is that it seemed the father was asking me to step in because his wife is disabled. Now, I understand its a hard situation, and I feel bad for them, but I am not the person to help. I did not feel like Jesus was tapping on my shoulder saying “Katie, help them,” instead, I felt like crying and screaming, and cussing a lot.

So its decided. I will no longer answer my front door. I don’t care who it is. Bryant is going up there tonight to talk to that girl’s Dad. I told him to paint a picture of me as a desperate and overwhelmed mother when he tells the guy that he can’t let his kid come to my apartment anymore. And, you know what else, I will never be a babysitter. I don’t want to watch other people’s children. I don’t like other people’s children. I don’t know where they have been, I don’t know what kind of germs they carry, and frankly, they are not cute.

End Rant.

Sidenote: Why do you think these things happen to me you guys? Seriously, why?! I’m so confused about it.



  1. Haha, WOW. I don’t care what their situation is…you don’t drop your kid off with a stranger! They didn’t even ASK if you could babysit (and what would make them think you’d be able to since you have a baby at home?). That is bizarre. I wouldn’t answer the door either if I were you.

  2. That is so bizarre. So, so very bizarre. And I don’t know about you but as the mother of an infant, I often feel “disabled” when I’m home alone with her, and it is I who need a hand. I am barely capable to get my own stuff done, much less be taken advantage of by strangers, no matter how in need they are.

    • Exactly! Its a good day if I’m showered and manage to eat something. I am only 9 weeks into this and suddenly there’s a 5 year old at my door? I don’t think so. Nope.

  3. I don’t even know how you held it together as long as you did. I would have marched said strange child home right away. You just do not do that to a stranger. Plus, what if that child had been sick, or had lice, or whatever. Who does that to a brand new mama!?!? And a stranger to boot! Great day!

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