Any ideas?

For the past thirteen years or so I've spent my fair share of time dreading, agonizing over, planning for, celebrating (by turns) the increasing independence of my children. Cases in point are too too numerous to sort through but I'll offer the first that comes to mind: When Madeleine (now 13) lost her first tooth she immediately turned to me and said in her most grown-up lisp, "Now, Mom, don't start crying or anything."

I can even get angsty over normal growing up of other peoples' children so you know it's a distinct burden on me that I appear to be raising five spunky, sparky individuals each with her or his own opinions and goals and, you know, votes in the family democracy. Gah.

So last week Madeleine went to her first official job. She had posted color advertisements at our local bookstores and cafes listing her resume and qualifications. Energetic, responsible, oldest of five, seeks mommy's helper position. (And here I thought she already had one? Just kidding. Sort of.)

In the past she had worked for friends and family babysitting. She watches children at church and she is incredibly good with our littles. She keeps her money like a miser and has a specific goal in mind for its eventual release from savings. So in theory this was all fine with me. Until.

This was all fine with me until another family called and wanted her to interview.

I may or may not have paid to run a background check on them. After all, just because it's a small town and their boys (2 and 4) are adorable and their front porch is covered with tasteful planters and the mom and dad are cute as 28-year-old buttons, after all, these are no reasons to trust that they understand this is my BABY they're asking to borrow.

Every Monday from 10 to 1.

You'll find me parked across the street from their house with binoculars.