Minding other people’s kids: a recipe for sanity

Hold your thumb and forefinger so that they are almost touching: that’s how close I came to grabbing my coat, wellies, and the children’s trust fund (i.e. the jar of loose change and hair bobbles on the kitchen windowsill) and walking out the front door. What I would do after my exit I had not planned, but based on my state of my mind at the time, it might very well have involved wearing a pink tutu and proclaiming I was Joan of Arc.

 

I have managed to survive 43 years on Earth, the birth of three children, a marriage break-up, two redundancies, and the departure of Zayn from One Direction without losing the ability to at least appear normal, but the last few days have been tough. The last few days we have been minding two of my brother’s children.

 

Let me explain (before my dear brother reads this and special envoys have to be dispatched to ease tensions in the O’Carroll clan): My darling nephews are aged 4 and 6 and think that our house is “so boring!” because it has a distinct lack of animated DVDs, dinosaurs and toy cars. They also think it is okay to get up and roar polar bear impressions in their teenage cousins’ bedrooms at 6.30a.m. They ask “why?” constantly, and they are unable to sleep without the only bear of the six they brought with them that you cannot find.

 

In other words, they are normal little boys. But Nature has a way of making you forget (childbirth, anyone?), and, with everyone in my household now aged in double figures, my little nephews seem like an alien species. Plus they are not mine, so I felt a bit like I did when I borrowed a very expensive designer hat for an event: Thanks very much, it’s wonderful, but I’ll be quite relieved when I can give it back undamaged. So, after three days, everyone’s nerves were somewhat frayed. Hence the escape fantasy. And then the brainwave.

 

I will now let you in on the secret to happiness when minding children —your own or otherwise: Melt 100g of toffees (a bag of Werthers, minus the wrappers), 100g marshmallows, and 100g of butter in a heavy pan, stir in 200g of Rice Krispies and spread in a baking tray.

 

Leave until cool. (And that goes for the Rice Krispie squares too).

Aoife O'Carroll is a separated mum living in Co Kerry with her two boys aged 17 and 14, and a girl aged 10.