Last year my twins were not in the market for babysitting gigs. Even though they were thirteen, their life was pretty domestic. They read hundreds of pages of books, side by side, and chatted. To each other. 

But in the past two seasons the tempo has picked up. The eighth grade play immersed them in the company of boys, as did ballroom dancing. An interest in fancy dresses emerged, as did Friday afternoon gatherings at a friend's house. 

Somewhere in there they consented to toss their names in the childcare ring, and they have helped out a handful of mothers with small children. For money. This was another kind of novel. 

The girls are on the brink of freshman year, and there are already signs of a tight schedule. Play practice, a musical group, pick up volleyball have all shimmied into their previously spacious afternoons. If they had not already dipped their toes into babysitting I dare say they would have skipped it completely.

I am a fan of babysitting, for a triplet of reasons. Mothers need a break. There is a faint memory wafting in my brain of our son asking if he could go on a scouting trip, which came with a hefty price tag. John and I looked at each other, and had the same thought. 

"Gone for three days? It's worth it."

Secondly I believe that the experience of calming and corralling a herd of kids is a crucial life skill. The twins texted me eight times during their first job. 

"How exactly do you burp a baby?"

There is also a benefit for the kids, who find out that teenagers make great trampolines. 

My own experience employing sitters to mind my brood taught me that the window of opportunity is narrow. Before twelve their ability to handle more than three kids is iffy. But after fifteen they had not a scrap of free time. My strategy was to reel them in as young as I dared and keep them interested into their over packed junior year.  

Every few months I invite a gaggle of couples to join a marriage group. I notice that there are common themes in their responses. Or non responses. Those that are newly minted are still floating on tulle and cake, and see no need for support. 

Marriages that are settled like an old house's stone foundation can seem unable to change. They stay away not because they are thriving, but because the thought of opening the door is ominous. 

I like it when I can lure in two people after the thank you notes are mailed but before miscommunication has a seat at the table.