I'm a freelance nanny again. I go by the pseudonym of Billy O'Pear, babies shaken to your satisfaction or your money back.

I'm joking of course. I've learned from people that watch CSI: Miami that it is pretty easy to tell if a baby shook itself or if it had help.

I'm at my parents' house watching my twin nephews. They're pretty cool, and fraternal enough to keep me on my toes. They both crawl now at conveniently disparate rates. If two babies are crawling toward respective harms I can time it to rescue them both. Or at least fully watch one hurt himself and then still have time to catch most of the second injury.

Ender, the slightly older one, is fond of pulling himself up onto couches, walls, and unstable chairs. Loves it. Thus my baby-catching ability has increased tenfold since I started this gig. I think that counts as one of those "life skills" my guidance counselor was always talking about. Or might have talked about if I had ever spoken to my guidance counselor.

After seeing the new Ninja Turtles movie, I understand that I have to start training them on ninja weapons now. I can't decide which for who. I think I'll warm them up first. Get Joshua started on throwing stars while Ender masters the salad fork.

The training will be tough. Tears will fall. Booties will fray. There will be spit-up. Oh yes, there will be spit-up.