My sister has no children. Heh. Heh.
Actually, my sister and her husband did me and my husband a very great favor last week by flying up from Georgia to kid-sit for four days while my husband and I took in the fall colors in Park City, Utah (site of the Park City Literary Festival). But I wouldn't be a card-carrying Mom if I didn't confess to a sneaky little frisson of "wait'll they see" kind of glee, contemplating how a) my husband and b) my sister and her husband were going to manage while I was away.
The short answer: they did just fine.
The longer answer: I wrote a two-page memo before I left, detailing the how's and where-to's of household life--things like: when the five-year-old had her pre-op physical (she had tubes put in her ears yesterday, it went fine; the surgery was at 8 and by 2 p.m. she was the Energizer Bunny again); the forms to take to said pre-op physical; the rules associated with computer use; advice on excavating backpacks and what to do with items found therein; the phone number of the Responsible Fifth Grader who can be relied upon to produce homework assignments my nine-year-old forgets; what medications to give and when; how to access to county's online homework help should the need arise; bath routines; bedtime routines; names and numbers of potential playmates for the weekend; what to do with the trash and recyclables; names and numbers of doctors. Oh yeah, and signed forms for a) the school, b) the after-care program and c) a general form saying it was legal for my sister/bro-in-law to take them to get medical care.
My husband is a hands-on dad who has been known to miss meetings at work to take a kid to the pediatrician (pause for moment of reverent silence, followed by round of cheers and applause). But even my husband did not know about the pre-op forms, didn't have the phone numbers of the friends, didn't know about the online homework access until I set it up, wouldn't have known who to call if my nine-year-old lost her assignments, and did not think about needing the other letters for school, after-care and potential medical personnel.
I'm not trying to paint myself as the Center of the Universe here; if I'd just left town, la-di-da, without compiling all this info, we'd have all survived. As it was, my husband got the five-year-old to her pre-op physical right on time, but forgot the paperwork (something I could see myself doing). It was okay: the pediatrician faxed everything the ear-nose-throat doc needed, and it worked out just fine. My sister and her husband seemed to have a fine time with the kids (though I did detect a distinct note of cheerful "gotta go!" relief when it was time for them to leave for the airport.) But I have to say, I did derive a perverse sense of satisfaction from writing down all I do on an everyday basis and seeing just how much WORK it added up to--work which often seems to be invisible to the world at large, and only intermittently visible even to my nearest and dearest.
Can I hear an "amen"??