Today I woke to a long string of frazzled texts from my sister. Anticlimactically enough, it was just that her babysitter had fallen through and she needed to twist my arm to look after Charlie for the day. You’d think someone with a three year old would have a list of reserve babysitters on hand, wouldn’t you? Anyhow, that’s how I’ve managed to find myself where I am now – glued to my car seat by the snoring toddler on my lap.
Even after I’d finally gotten a coffee into me, I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do to entertain this kid for the whole day. I ended up consulting my good friend, the internet, for recommendations on wholesome activities for young children – ideally, ones that will tire them out. A strong suggestion was to try one of the indoor play centres in Sydney. It sounded good to me, as the put-upon aunty in dire need of another coffee and to catch up on some work.
Turns out, these places are pretty much the business. Instead of worrying about Charlie falling off and/or destroying my antique bookshelf, I can leave her to clamber on some purpose-built play equipment that she can’t pull down on top of her. And instead of having to track her every move at the park, I can let her run riot in a controlled space to which she’s confined by an ID wristband and staff who know how to handle kids better than I do.
I’ll definately be looking for other indoor play venues for kids around Sydney – you know, for next time sis has a childcare freak-out like she did this morning. My only problem now is that, between my carrying Charlie to the car and sitting down with her across my lap to check my emails, she’s managed to pass out soundly. I don’t want to wake her up, because there’s still four hours to go before she gets picked up. Shh…