Rereading My Childhood – The Baby-Sitters Club #28: Welcome Back, Stacey! by Ann M. Martin

My whole life my father complained that Reno is getting “too big.” My father would lament as he stared toward Mount Rose, “You used to be able to see the hills and now you just see houses.” He wasn’t wrong. I remember the sagebrush covered land that cradled our city gradually turning into housing developments with curved, inefficient roads.

Unlike my father, I welcomed the change. As far as I was concerned, the bigger Reno got, the better. Better bands came through – bands I cared about. Not just the Boomer nostalgia bands who performed on the casino circuit. Stores weren’t relegated to the universal suburban style of Mervyns – I might be able to get some alternative clothing (if it came in my size, which was rare, but that’s for another time). Reno was growing, and so were my expectations of what a city should have and provide.

To this day, I have no desire to move to a city with a population smaller than the Reno metropolitan-ish area. I will only move up, not down. I don’t care if the cost of living is exorbitant – it’s exorbitant everywhere. A smaller town would have to be pretty damn special or cheap to get me to move there.

Stacey has to make a big decision in the next BSC book – whether to continue her existence in New York City, with its culture and Starlight Express shows, or move back to Stoneybrook, with its friends, child pageants, and theaters that only show one movie at a time.

Even though she moved away from the BSC, Stacey is still baby-sitting. You can take the baby-sitter out of the BSC, but you can’t take the BSC out of the baby-sitter! I’m surprised Martin didn’t use this. Anyway, Stacey is baby-sitting for two of her favorite charges while she thinks about her parents’ constant fighting, which is never a good sign. When she returns home, she finds her parents fighting again. It seems that Mrs. McGill gets bored throughout the day because Mr. McGill is never home and so Mrs. McGill goes shopping.

And it’s not regular shopping. Mrs. McGill spent $1568 at Tiffany’s, which is $3555 today. I cannot fathom spending that much at one store. My partner and I took a week-long vacation for about a thousand dollars and we thought that was extravagant. Either the McGills are rich or drowning in credit card debt. 

And what is Mr. McGill’s issue? What is his fatal flaw to rival a shopping addiction? He works too much. So what? Everyone I know works over forty hours a week and has at least two side hustles. Geez, the ‘80s were different. You could live in one of the most expensive cities in the world, have only one working parent, and a $1568 shopping trip wouldn’t cripple you for years.

Part of me thinks that Mr. McGill should be having an affair, because working too much vs. spending budget-shattering amounts of money isn’t equal. I wouldn’t leave someone for working too much, but I would leave someone for spending a nice vacation’s worth of money at a store with blood diamonds.

Instead of coming home, Stacey goes to her best-friend’s house. Laine Cummings provides a shoulder to cry on while Stacey worries if her parents still love each other. Stacey also calls the BSC during one of their meetings. Each member gets to chat with her. Everyone tries to reassure her, but it’s no use. When Stacey finally goes home, her parents sit her down and deliver the bad news.

They are getting a divorce. They’ve been to a marriage counselor and there’s no salvaging the relationship. Mr. McGill says that they have too many differences. Stacey goes to her room and listens to her “loudest tape.” I imagine GWAR, but I don’t know if Martin is a big fan of thrash metal.

The next day, instead of speaking to her parents, Stacey becomes a dude with a podcast.

What was wrong with parents these days? Why couldn’t they get married and stay married like parents did in olden times? Whatever happened to commitment? What happened to “forever”? To “till death do us part”? Really, someone ought to rewrite the wedding vows so that the bride and groom say, “Till divorce do us part.”

People in “olden times” stayed together because a woman wasn’t allowed to have a credit card without her husband to co-sign, Stacey. Is that what you want? You want your whole identity to be tied to a man, regardless of his worthiness? I know you’re going through something, Stacey, but don’t entertain the idea that if a fifteen-year-old is forced into a marriage, they should just tough it out for the rest of their lives.

During school, Stacey avoids her friends. After school, she talks to the local homeless lady until Stacey goes home. When she reaches her door, there’s a sign that says, “DO NOT ENTER. GO BACK TO THE LIVING ROOM AND TALK TO YOUR PARENTS.” Stacey actually listens to the sign instead of taking the sign down and going into her room anyway. It’s a piece of paper. Not a lock. Ignore it.

She does not ignore it and speaks with her parents. They tell her that they’re both going to be finding new places to live. That means that Stacey has to decide which parent she wants to live with and how to divide her time. Her dad is going to stay in New York City while her mother moves back to Stoneybrook.

Stacey calls Laine, who tells her to stay because it’ll be easier. Then she calls Claudia, who tells her to move back to Stoneybrook. Finally, she calls Dawn, whose parents recently divorced. 

“The thing about divorce,” she told me, “is waiting. You have to wait for an awful lot – for decisions, lawyers, even movers.” (I giggled.) “The best way to look at the situation is to realize that the worst part is over. You know your parents are splitting up. Now it’s just a matter of dealing with each new step that comes along.”

Dawn’s intelligence is underrated. However, despite the nice, practical advice that boils down to, “Work on what you have control over,” Stacey doesn’t really listen to it. She springs into action – she’s going to rekindle her parents’ relationship. She tells us that her favorite babysitting charges don’t just stare at the TV all day – like it’s a bad thing to watch TV. Then she takes her ques from the very device she derided while trying to get her parents back together, including half-assed shenanigans that would feel appropriate for any of the Brady Bunch. 

She attempts to prepare a romantic dinner at home, but Mr. McGill doesn’t come home so Stacey and her mother eat the food. She tries the dinner thing again but at a restaurant this time. That doesn’t work either – both of her parents have seen The Parent Trap, a movie from the ‘60s that keeps popping up in these books.

One Saturday morning, Mrs. McGill invites Stacey to go house hunting in Stoneybrook. Also, Claudia tags along, because who wouldn’t want to look at vacant houses? A psychopath, that’s who. If I could get away with it, I’d go to open houses all over the tri-city area every weekend. However, in order to buy a house now, you have to be a Boomer looking for a home for their designer pony, a trust fund kid whose parents are willing to put the down payment on a house, or an internet company that buys “ugly houses.” There’s no way I’d pass for any of those, so the realtors would never let me within fifty feet of any house with a For Sale sign in the yard.

I’m also clearly a sucker because Stacey and her mother see several houses they can afford, but they find problems in each one. To which I’d say, hey, I don’t care what the problem is, if you can afford a house, and you don’t already have another one, take it. You can fix problems. In the end, the only house that is really appealing to Stacey and her mother is a house right behind the Pike residence. 

That night, Claudia hosts a slumber party with the rest of the BSC and Stacey. The slumber party goes well, and Stacey says that conversations with the BSC are natural – something she is missing in New York.

“What did Jackie do tonight?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Squirted his hot dog across the kitchen the second he bit into it-” Kristy began, grinning.

“He bit into the kitchen?” said Dawn.

“No, the hot dog!”

“The hot dog bit into the kitchen?”

We all started laughing.

“Natural” is a word that could describe that interaction, but does it?

The girls paint each other’s nails, then they make fun of an annoying kid, and then coo over pictures of Emily Michelle. The sleepover ends with Claudia pleading with Stacey to stay in Stoneybrook.

Back in New York, Mr. McGill has found an apartment on the East Side, just steps away from Bloomingdale’s. He refers to it as his “new pad.” He’s definitely a divorced dad. He just needs a haircut he spent too much on, a ridiculous vehicle, and an aura of desperation and the transformation will be complete. 

Stacey makes a pros and cons list to determine where she will live. In the end, the BSC makes all the difference, and she decides that she is going to live with her mother in Stoneybrook. Her mother buys the house behind the Pikes.

There’s some packing and Stacey has to tell Laine about her decision. Laine is disappointed, but she understands Stacey’s position. Laine goes on to treat the McGills to a breakfast that, according to Stacey, only exists in New York – bagels, lox, cream cheese and orange juice. Because you can’t find those things anywhere else. Nope. You can’t find bagels and salmon on the west coast, apparently. It’s not like I get that exact order at a local bagel place I like.

Stacey’s regular baby-sitting charges (the ones who don’t watch TV) come over and give her gifts in the form of drawings. Didn’t Stacey already get a drawing from her baby-sitting charges when she left Stoneybrook? One in the form of a giant map? What happened to it? (Link that story) Finally, it’s time to start the drive back to Stoneybrook.

The BSC is waiting for her on the lawn, as well as the usual kids. There’s a banner that reads, “WE KNEW YOU’D BE BACK, STACEY!” It gives off “you’ll never escape us” vibes, but Stacey thinks it’s great. There is hugging. We also get a Claudia outfit.

Her hair was flowing down her back, pulled away from her face by a headband with a huge pink rose attached to it. She was wearing a long, oversized black-and-white sweater, skin-tight black leggings, pink-and-black socks, and black ballet slippers. Her jewelry was new, and I could tell she’d made it herself. You know those things about a best friend. Her necklace was a string of glazed beads that she’d probably made in her jewelry class. And from her ears dangled an alarming number of plastic charms attached to gold hoops.

The jewelry is questionable but the rest of the outfit is cute. 9/10 completely wearable.

The BSC helps Stacey unpack. There is more hugging. Claudia stays behind and they talk about the divorce. There is continued hugging.

One week later, Stacey is doing fine and Charlotte, who makes a sudden appearance in the story, is talking more and is less clingy, which means she is growing up. Take note introverts: you’ll never grow up. 

Also, Stacey is back in the BSC, and Dawn relinquishes the Treasurer role to Stacey. 

I can’t understand moving to a smaller town, but I can understand moving to be closer to the ones you love. Whether those loved ones are actual family or members of a club, a connection to the people around you can make a home. And with her parents’ divorce, Stacey probably needs the BSC more than before and maybe the quieter life in the suburbs would be more conducive for her trauma.

That still doesn’t mean we should go back to a time when people couldn’t divorce. You’re starting off on thin ice, Stace. I’ve got my eyes on you. Just do your baby-sitting and leave the marital relations to those of us who think women should have their own bank accounts. Without us you wouldn’t be able to do your math problems and you’d be burned as a witch the second you used the Quadratic Formula.

For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com. If you’d like me to read these to you before the written version is published, listen to the podcast. Just visit the website or search for “Rereading My Childhood” in your favorite podcatcher. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com.

Rereading My Childhood – The Baby-Sitters Club #18: Stacey’s Mistake

I have never been to New York City. I would like to visit someday, particularly the Natural History Museum because I love dinosaurs. However, I don’t have the same reverence that others have for the home of Central Park. I love the west coast. I’ve been to Los Angeles, which is kind of like New York City, but with better weather, impossibly beautiful waiters, and a sheen of friendliness that may be fake, but it really doesn’t matter for the three minutes you interact with someone. New York City seems cold and unfriendly and another city with skyscrapers — nothing to revere as the pinnacle of American ingenuity. (At least, not while sourdough was invented in San Francisco, which is my favorite city with an unsustainable cost of living.)

Now apologize to the dinosaur’s butt for blaming your fart on it. Also, if Ms. Jewett needs the book back, just let me know.

The Baby-Sitters Club, and seemingly Ann M. Martin, disagrees with me. New York City is a treasure. It is a place to be heralded as a new Athens, a new Constantinople, a new Babylon. Many songs have been written about the city — and even whole musicals. And even though all that pop culture, I still think of New York City as a place that seems cool, but no more special than Los Angeles. Maybe our favorite New York Girl Stacey will change my mind about the city. Maybe I’ll come out of this book review with a fresh admiration for the east coast. I mostly want to know why everyone seems so grumpy on the east coast.

Even though Stacey moved back to New York and away from the BSC in #13: Good-bye Stacey, Good-bye, Stacey is still baby-sitting. In fact, she’s the resident babysitter for most of her building.

The community announces a meeting to discuss Judy, a “bag-lady” and other people like her, and every parent needs a baby-sitter on the same night. This meeting is the social event of the year! Come have hors devours! Talk about a homeless woman with an obvious drug addiction! Gentrify the neighborhood and get her arrested!

Stacey comes up with a familiar idea — a day camp with her best-friends from Stoneybrook! And since the meeting is for only one day, Stacey can treat the BSC to a New York Weekend complete with a party.

However, if you read the title of this book, you know it isn’t going to be smooth sailing for the rest of the book. In fact, this book falls under the BSC trope of “infighting.” What are they going to argue about now? Let’s find out.

The second the BSC arrives, they’ve established who they’re going to be in this book. Dawn will be playing the part of “Scared Person,” Kristy will be “Big Mouth,” Claudia will be “Too Much Luggage,” and Mary Anne will be “The Tourist” (not the movie). The girls are excited to see their long lost friend, and after they drop off their luggage at Stacey’s apartment, which the Scared Person Dawn is thankful that Stacey has a doorman, they go to get lunch.

Mary Anne wants to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe. Dawn asks if it’s in a safe neighborhood. Stacey remarks that Dawn used to live in Los Angeles, to which Dawn clarifies that it was outside Anaheim, not Los Angeles proper. I’ve been to Anaheim — it’s not exactly Mayberry, but when the biggest building in the city is The Tower of Terror (now the Guardians of the Galaxy — Mission: Breakout!, because Star-Lord is better than Rod Sterling, for some reason I don’t understand) the 100-story skyscrapers of New York that loom over the dark streets are imposing.

The girls are impressed when Stacey says to the host, “‘Five for lunch, please.’” I guess girls in the ’80s didn’t normally go to restaurants by themselves. And I thought Reno was backward. I remember having lunches with my other thirteen-year-old friends at Applebee’s, and we all asked for separate checks. It’s embarrassing, I know. I apologize to every server to whom I’ve ever said, “Can we get separate checks?” It’s a shameful act and I have no excuse other than that I was thirteen and stupid.

During lunch, Kristy orders “fill-it mig-nun.” I ignored the obvious pronunciation error and instead wondered how much Kristy brought with her. Like, I know Watson is rich, but I wouldn’t send my thirteen-year-old to New York with enough to consider filet mignon for lunch.

After lunch, Mary Anne gets everyone to buy T-shirts from the Hard Rock Cafe — even Stacey. Kristy tries to give a homeless person some money, but Stacey tells her to never open her purse on the street because someone could snatch it. That freaks out Scared Person Dawn.

The girls go to Bloomingdale’s and Mary Anne shoplifts some eye shadow. She thought it was a sample. Sure, Mary Anne, a “sample.” I’m kidding. Mary Anne couldn’t shoplift a five-cent Jolly Rancher from 7–11. Kristy does what I usually do in these stores:

Kirsty kept exclaiming things like, “Look how expensive this is! In Stoneybrook it would only cost half as much,” or “Mary Anne, come here. Look at this — a hundred and sixty dollars for one pair of shoes!”

Yeah, that’s me — I’m the one screaming, “Who the hell pays full price at Bed, Bath, & Beyond?” And when they get in the elevator in Stacey’s building, Kristy continues her role of Big Mouth.

“Have you ever gotten stuck in the elevator?” Dawn wanted to know. “It took a long time for the doors to open when we came up to your apartment.”

“Never,” I told her firmly. “I have never been stuck. You aren’t claustrophobic, are you?”

“She’s just a worrywart,” said Kristy. “For heaven’s sake, Dawn, I can think of worse things than getting stuck in an elevator. What if the cable broke and the elevator crashed all the way to the basement?”

“Kristy!” exclaimed Claudia, Mary Anne, and I. (Dawn was speechless with fear.)

I laughed, but I tend to diffuse tense situations with laughter. Elevators used to freak me out, but it’s not the fear of getting stuck or the cable snapping (there are security measures in place in case something catastrophic happens). I mostly hate elevators because I hate the feeling of descending. You won’t find me on those drop rides.

The BSC members meet all the parents of the kids they’ll be babysitting during the meeting. It’s a list of names and parents with various eccentricities. We’re never going to see these kids after this book, so I don’t think it’s necessary to introduce you to each one of them. Let’s just say that there’s more diversity in this building than in the entire history of Stoneybrook.

Now it’s party time! Of course, the first thing the girls do is plan their outfits. Mary Anne insists that they dress as “New York” as they can to fit in.

“Maybe we should wear our Hard Rock Cafe T-shirts,” said Kristy. “They’re as New York as you can get.”

Kristy! I know she’s supposed to be saying the wrong things, but Kristy is giving me life in this book.

In the end, Claudia wears a black outfit, Dawn wears an oversized sweater-dress, and Stacey wears a yellow dress. Kristy ends up in a sweater and jeans. Mary Anne ends up, well, let’s let Stacey tell us.

I had chosen a bright, big-patterned sweater and a pair of black pants for her. She’d looked at them, shaken her head, replaced them in her suitcase, and put on this other outfit — a ruffly white blouse, a long paisley skirt, and these little brown boots. It was very mature and attractive but, well, Mary Anne was the only one of my friends who, when dressed up, actually looked like she came from Connecticut. We could tell, thought, that the clothes were new and that she really wanted to wear them, so no one said anything to her, despite the grief she’d given us earlier.

Does she look like she’s from Connecticut, or does she look like she just came back from line dancing night at the Achy Breaky Canteena? A paisley skirt is the epitome of New York to Mary Anne. Who wrote her travel guide? Foghorn Leghorn?

The girls continue their party preparation. Claudia goes through Stacey’s cool-ass tapes to choose music. Stacey’s Dad (who doesn’t have it going on) buys a bunch of sandwiches and the girls pour out chips and snacks into bowls. Meanwhile, Laine, Stacey’s New York best friend, shows up to help. Claudia and her snipe at each other, a grim portent for the rest of the evening.

The guests start to show up. Mary Anne is apprehensive about “New York boys,” but gets over that pretty quickly when she shows off her New York knowledge to anyone who will listen, including fun facts about the height of the Empire State Building and (I can’t believe I still had a physical reaction) the Twin Towers. This book was published in 1987, in case you were wondering for no particular reason.

Meanwhile, Stacey introduces a boy to Kristy and they hit it off. They share a love of sports and even dance together. For reasons that I’m assuming are purely conflict-related, Claudia cockblocks Kristy and asks to dance with the boy.

By eleven, the kids start to leave, indicating that the invitations clearly did not say, “From six to ???”

Laine was going to spend the night, but after the disaster of a party and Claudia’s obvious jealousy, Laine decides to go home, but not before rightfully calling Claudia a jerk. Kristy joins in and says that Claudia is a jerk for butting in between her and the sports boy. Then Dawn calls Mary Anne a jerk because Dawn heard Mary Anne make fun of Dawn’s belief that there are actual alligators in the sewers. Mary Anne cries and everyone’s a jerk. Then they go to sleep in separate rooms.

Stacey wakes up and goes over the problems with the New York trip. She concludes that the infighting is due to three things: the BSC has been displaced from their usual surroundings, the BSC wants to impress her New York friends, and Claudia and Laine are jealous of each other. Stacey is thankful that none of these problems are with her, so she thinks she can fix this. But first, they have a bunch of New York kids to take care of.

They emulate how they dealt with the kids during their previous venture into daycare by listing each kid. Kristy says that they should make name tags since that was useful last time, and Stacey immediately shuts that idea down. They don’t want strangers to know the kids’ names. This freaks Dawn out a little.

The kids start to arrive at exactly 11:35, a detail I didn’t need. Stacey takes charge, a stark difference from Stoneybrook, where Kristy would usually lead. However, Stacey is the only one who knows the kids and how to get around to the various activities they have planned. Surprisingly, Kristy doesn’t make a fuss, even if she may have been perturbed.

They put the kids in two identical rows a la Madeline and march to the American Museum of Natural History. The dinosaurs excite the kids, a feeling I am well accustomed to (ask my sister about the time we went to the Smithsonian’s Natural History Museum or ask my partner about the time his company party was in a museum that featured Sue the T-Rex). Everything seems fine, but something has to happen.

When they reach the giant hanging blue whale, the BSC does a headcount and discovers they’re missing a kid. Mary Anne finds the kid with the brontosaurus.

After lunch at the Food Express (the museum restaurant), it’s time for Central Park. After winding through the city, they reach a huge park pond and Dawn expresses relief.

“Did you think we were going to get mugged back there or something?” I said.

“Well, you always hear stories about people getting mugged in Central Park,” she said with a little shiver. “And not just at night,” she was quick to add when she saw me open my mouth. “Plus, homeless people live in the park, don’t they?”

“So?” I replied. “Just because they’re homeless doesn’t mean they’re going to hurt you.”

Yeah, Dawn, you’re supposed to be the progressive one. Also, if Law & Order: Special Victims Unit has taught me anything, it’s that you’re more likely to run into a dead body than get mugged.

The kids experience the Delacorte Clock, some musical animals, and finally the children’s zoo. Dawn helps with a potential barfing situation, and the rest of the BSC relaxes. They even let the kids walk ahead of them as the BSC links arms like an early-2000’s teen movie and it seems the girls are a unit once again.

While on the way back to the apartment, the kids sing to their baby-sitters. The BSC finds this endearing, but the thought of fourteen kids singing “For they’re jolly good sitters” is a recurring nightmare for me.

When the parents come back from their gentrification meeting, they announce they’re going to start a soup kitchen. Unless that soup kitchen gives out cash, job training, and access to mental and physical healthcare, I don’t know if that’s the most efficient way to help, but I’m sure the rich people will feel better about themselves.

Later that night, Laine calls and she has a surprise.

“Well, guess what. You won’t believe this.” She paused dramatically. “I’m not sure whether to tell you about this, but, well, Dad got free tickets — house seats, excellent ones — to Starlight Express. They’re for tonight. He and Mom don’t want to go, but would you and your friends like to go to the play? He could get six seats, all together. And he’d order us the limo. I don’t know about Claudia, but I feel awful about last night, and I’d kind of like to start over.”

Since the BSC is finished fighting, they enthusiastically attend the play. And who wouldn’t want to watch a musical about anthropomorphic trains on roller skates from the same Andrew Lloyd Webber era as Cats?

Laine and Claudia get along. Mary Anne is in her version of Heaven. Dawn is able to tell Laine about California. Kristy was happy to watch tv in a limo, which, admittedly, is the first thing I did when I got into a limo for my senior prom night (the first and only time I’ve ever been in a limo — it was fine — it was a long car).

After the play, the BSC is able to really catch up and have the sleepover they wanted. They recap events like Jeff moving back to California and the pageant. Exactly like one of those sitcom episodes where the show wanted to save money so they show scenes from previous episodes. “Remember when we had to put on that party for Mr. Ramshambuler and you dropped the cake.” And then they’d show the scene of the guy tripping and falling into a huge cake. Then some old lady says, “If he comes with the cake, I’ll have a slice.” Something like that. The book turns into that.

The next morning, Stacey makes them bagels. Kristy is weird about smoked salmon, just like someone from 1987. Then they say their goodbyes at the train station.

Well, I sure didn’t figure out why New Yorkers are so angry, but I appreciated the scenes at the museum. I like most museums, but I especially like museums with dinosaurs. New York City is a place with dinosaurs, so it’s worth the acclaim it has received. Do I think it should be the pinnacle of American ingenuity? I would argue that the presence of Wall Street and a terrible, political-office-stealing mob family stains New York’s reputation, but I’m happy there is a city where rats and pigeons fight each other and there are enough people with cameras to capture it.

For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I’ve done, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com or follow RereadMyChildhd on Twitter. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter: amyacowan.

Rereading My Childhood – The Baby-Sitters Club #3: The Truth About Stacey

Listen to this on The Podcast!

One of the most deplorable things people can do is convince someone to give up their life savings in exchange for quack medical cures. People will do anything to save their lives, and it’s unconscionable to take advantage of their situations. The American health care system already takes advantage of people (#medicare of all). That might be why people look for cheaper alternatives to proven healthcare.

Stacey’s parents want to cure her diabetes and are willing to drag her around to charlatans to do so. Stacey has to stop them before they drop ten grand on some crystal bullshit. That’s not in the book, but if this were written today, they’d be blaming vaccines and spending their money on crystals and essential oils.

SPOILERS AFTER THE COVER!!!

She’s different because she can see secret cameras in candy stores.

As usual, the book starts with a BSC meeting where they discuss the impending birth of Mrs. Newton’s second child. They want to make sure that one of them is always available in case the Newtons have to go to the hospital since they’re “such good customers.” Solid plan. Consistent, good customers should receive some special privileges (but the customer shouldn’t expect it – my thoughts on this are complicated). The meeting turns south when Janine enters with a flyer for the brand new company “The Baby-Sitters Agency.”

After some digging (including a pretend baby-sitting inquiry) it turns out that the business owners, Liz and Michelle, have a network of friends they can call, some of them older, and act more like a liaison to the parents. The way it works is that the parents call the phone number, Liz or Michelle calls around to see who is available, and then call the parent back with a sitter. They don’t do any baby-sitting themselves (neither do the baby-sitters they send, really, but we’ll get to that).

Stacey talks about her previous life, including her former best friend, Laine Cummings. They had a falling out after Stacey wet the bed they were sharing because of Stacey’s undiagnosed diabetes. After a series of doctor visits, Laine accused Stacey of faking it for attention. Laine is the type of person who says that people with depression should just exercise and go vegan if they want to “get happier.” After that, Stacey and her family moved to Stoneybrook.

Later, Stacey’s mom wants to speak with her. She tells Stacey that she wants her to see a TV doctor named Dr. Barnes in New York. Apparently, Dr. Barnes has some new treatment that Stacey’s parents think will cure Stacey of her diabetes. Stacey doesn’t want to go because she’ll miss three days of school and she has no desire to see a new doctor, especially one that her Uncle saw on television. Imagine Dr. Phil attempting to cure your lupus. I’m surprised Dr. Barnes doesn’t go by Dr. Brad.

During a special BSC meeting, Kristy proposes the idea of Kid-Kits in order to make themselves more appealing to their babysitting charges and their parents. This is one of the few ideas that Kristy has that actually sticks, and Kid-Kits are a staple of subsequent Baby-Sitters Club books. Kid-Kits are basically toys and games and activities for the children that each babysitter can take with them on jobs. This is a good idea. However, Kristy’s other ideas aren’t so great.

The other ideas Kristy has are rate cuts, free housework, and giving away jobs to their older brothers and sisters. Claudia and Mary Anne refuse. They go forward with the Kid-Kits, but the other ideas are considered last resorts.

Stacey babysits for Charlotte and we are introduced to Dr. Johanssen, Charlotte’s mother and the only doctor in all of Stoneybrook. The city only needs one doctor, but they have competing adolescent baby-sitting agencies. Stacey and Charlotte take a walk downtown. After a quick stop in the candy store from the cover of the book, Charlotte sees some children who call her “teacher’s pet” and tease her. Stacey shares that she was also teased in school before she moved to Stoneybrook. On the way home, Liz gives them a balloon with the Baby-sitters Agency phone number, mistaking Stacey for Charlotte’s older sister.

Suddenly, Mrs. Newton is in labor! Mr. Newton rushes her to the hospital while they leave Jamie with Kristy. They decide to hold a Big Brother Party for Jamie because the kid is apprehensive about having a sibling. A bunch of the usual kids show up and the baby-sitters put on a record and play musical rug. Mr. Newton calls and talks to his son. Jamie reveals that he has a new sister named Lucy Jane and Jamie storms off.

Kristy chases him down and asks him if he’s sad that it’s a girl and not a boy. Jamie says that he’s upset because now Kristy can’t babysit him and his mother is going to switch them to a sitter named Liz because she’s older. Jamie doesn’t seem to like Liz and Kristy vows to do something to help Jamie.

The BSC finds a flier for the Baby-sitters Agency with the words, “Want to earn fast money the easy way?” Well, sign me up! They find Michelle Patterson signing people up. Kristy decides to allow eighth-graders into the BSC.

Stacey’s mother schedules tests for Stacey with Dr. Barnes. Stacey has to be in the hospital for five days sometime near Christmas. Despite Stacey’s protests, her parents think that Dr. Barnes’s “holistic approach” will cure her. While Stacey is babysitting Charlotte, Stacey asks Dr. Johanssen if she’s heard of Dr. Barnes. Dr. Johanssen has and warns Stacey about the man, whom she calls “a faith healer.”

“What he is going to do – I can practially guarantee this – is recommend all sorts of expensive programs and therapies designed to make your life as positive and fulfilling and healthy as possible. He’ll tell your parents that this will enable you to rid your body of the disease…It’s just that – well, it’s my belief that no special program is going to rid your body of diabetes.”

Stacey begs Dr. Johanssen to help her get out of meeting with Dr. Barnes. The doctor promises to figure out a way to help her. Probably without a caper, but let’s hope for a caper. (There isn’t a caper.)

So Kristy gets this idea to put the BSC in sandwich boards to advertise that their club is looking for new members. It goes as well as you’d expect an idea involving cumbersome wood would go. A girl says that she just uses the babysitting time to watch TV. A boy says that he doesn’t want to show up to meetings three times a week. Some guy named Pete Black flirts with Stacey.

Kristy ends up finding two eighth-graders to join the club: Janet Gates and Leslie Howard. They were once friends with Liz, but they had a falling out. Or so they claim. Jeez, Kristy, for someone smart enough to come up with the club and the Kid-Kits, you’re awfully dense when it comes to obvious sabotage tactics. Even Stacey sees through the ruse, but she goes along with it anyway, because if she raised objections or put restrictions on the new members, there wouldn’t be a plot.

The BSC gives presents to Mrs. Newton presumably for the new baby. They also give presents to Jamie, which Mrs. Newton appreciates since Jamie has been jealous of the presents the baby has been receiving. They also ask about babysitting for them again, but Mrs. Newton says that the BSC is too young and when Lucy is older, she hopes they can sit for her again.

At the BSC meeting, they meet the new members and give them jobs. I’m sure the new members will be fine and responsible and not try to sabotage the BSC’s reputation at all. They don’t need to send another more established member to the job as well to make sure everything’s okay. Not at all. This will in no way hurt the BSC and their new clients.

Also, Stacey remarks that she’s impressed by the simple fact that the new members are thirteen and fourteen. Stacey is impressed by the passage of time, instead of how we should all feel, which is dread.

And, as expected, the new girls don’t show up for their babysitting jobs. The BSC confronts them at school and it goes as well as the sandwich board idea. It ends with Kristy crying in the girls’ bathroom. Things really suck when Kristy is crying.

Stacey is at Jamie’s while Mrs. Newton and Lucy are in another room. Jamie’s demeanor is noticeably different. Stacey asks if it’s because of the new baby. Instead, Jamie laments that babysitters used to read and play with him, but his new sitters just watch tv and invite over their boyfriends, and one of them smoked in the living room and burned a cushion. Stacey encourages Jamie to tell his parents about what his sitters are doing. It’s my experience that if someone tells a kid to keep a secret or hide something from their parents, that person sucks and should be shot into the sun.

Later, Stacey babysits for Charlotte and the poor girl explodes at Stacey, saying that babysitters only care about money.

Charlotte looked at me sadly. “Ellie said, ‘Oh, Charlotte, you are the teacher’s pet, teacher’s pet,’ and I said, ‘I am not,’ and she said, ‘Are, too, and you don’t have any friends.’ And I said, ‘I have baby-sitters. They’re my friends.’ And she said, ‘They are not. My sister Cathy doesn’t like you.’ And I said, ‘Then how come she sits for me?’ And she said, ‘Because your parents pay her a lot of money, stupid.'”

Stacey is able to convince Charlotte that she’s different because Stacey actually plays with her and doesn’t ignore her the way Cathy does.

The next day, on their way home from school, the BSC finds Jamie Newton just hanging out in the street. By himself. A three-year-old. Alone in the street. Apparently, his sitter, Cathy Morris, told him it was okay to go play outside. Even Disneyland doesn’t let someone shorter than 54″ drive a car by themselves in Autopia, which is the only place I’ve seen an eight-year-old living his life. The BSC walks him back home and they wonder if they should tell the parents and if that would be interpreted as them trying to sabotage the Agency. Stacey asks her mother for advice, to which her mother says, “I’d say the person who’s going to tell something should risk ‘looking bad,’ if a child really is in danger.” Oh, now Mrs. McGill shows some measured thinking as opposed to when she’s channel surfing to find Stacey’s new doctor.

The girls go to Mrs. Newton’s and tell her how they saw Jamie and how a babysitter burned one of their cushions and asked Jamie not to tell her. She’s pretty horrified and won’t use the agency again (except some seventeen-year-old boy sitter, I guess, that was thrown in).

The BSC confronts Liz and Michelle. This time, it goes a little better. The BSC demonstrates how much they know about their babysitting charges and the behavior of a good babysitter.

Stacey leaves for New York, which includes a reunion between Stacey and her former best-friend. Laine and Stacey fight. The next morning, Stacey has her tests – strangely, without her parents expressly present.

I was examined, poked, and prodded. Blood was drawn. I was fed a specifically prepared lunch and more blood was drawn. Then this woman holding a sheaf of papers asked me to do weird things like draw a picture of my family, make up stories about inkblots, and build towers of bricks. I ran on a treadmill and tried to do sit-ups and push-ups. I rode an exercise bicycle. At last I was given a written test. It might have been an IQ test, but I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it looked long.

They let her go back into the custody of her parents. I would be suspicious at the “draw a picture” phase. What does that have to do with diabetes? Blood, food, exercise. Okay, maybe. But, inkblots? Also, her parents should have been there the entire time. She’s twelve and these people are all, “Let us do tests on her without y’all here.” Hey, TV doctor, don’t just touchkids without their parents there. That’s creepy!

Luckily, they let her out in time for her appointment with a real doctor, Dr. Graham. She springs the appointment on her parents, and they are forced to go see this real doctor with Stacey. After all, Dr. Johansson helped Stacey get this appointment with a renowned physican. Frankly, after her parents sprung this weird, IQ testing doctor on Stacey, Stacey has every right to spring a reputable doctor on them.

After the meeting with an accredited doctor who speaks to both Stacey and her parents, Stacey finally stands up to her parents, telling them that it’s not fair for them to switch doctors without her and force her to switch schools. Her parents say that they trust Dr. Graham more than Dr. Barnes, who is suggesting “unusual” treatments with exorbitant costs.

Back with the Cummings’, the two families go to the movies. Laine and Stacey talk while getting snacks. Laine was jealous of Stacey because she was getting all this attention from teachers and school administrators and she was permitted to miss so much school. She apologizes and things are copasetic between the two again.

The next day, the families hang out again, this time while traipsing around New York. They watch Paris Magic, which Stacey calls “the best musical” she’d ever seen. It is not a real musical because I Googled it and found nothing. It was a ridiculous title for anything and it turns out that the only appropriate use for that title is hair care products, which is the only search result I received.

When Stacey goes back to Stoneybrook, she learns that Charlotte and Jaime told their parents everything, and it turns out that there were other unhappy children. The Agency folds.

On a final note, the problem with Charlotte’s bullying is resolved as well – she’s skipping a grade.

I understand Stacey’s parents’ desperation. They just want their daughter to have the best life possible. That’s what makes Barnes, and people of his ilk, so dangerous. People seek radical and expensive treatments because they provide a little bit of hope where there is none. Snake oil salesmen are taking advantage of people in the most blatant way. It’s all about how much can they charge for this thing that probably won’t work but has a cheap cost. It’s monstrous.

I can’t believe I have to say this, but don’t trust miracle cures and panacea. Don’t digest bleach or aquarium agents or shine light into your veins. When I started writing this, I wasn’t worried about people doing anything of those things, but it turns out that there are still salesmen peddling miracle cures to their cult and scared members of the populace. Just, please, be safe out there. Don’t rush things.

And wear a damn mask, please. It shouldn’t be this hard to get people to do something so simple that will help so many.

For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com. To listen to the official podcast, just visit the website or search for “Rereading My Childhood” in your favorite podcatcher. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter: amyacowan.

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #41: A Lot to Unpack

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

Previously On A Year With the BSC #40: The Early One!

There’s a lot this week, so let’s just start.

That sounds like a threat, Abby.

Kristy sounds almost happy that Cokie Mason came to undermine Mary Anne’s relationship with Logan. Am I detecting some jealousy? Some unrequited love? Between two best-friends? C’mon, you were thinking it, too. The only difference is that I have the courage to circumlocute my way through this post while winking and nudging.

Lesbian. I think Kristy is a lesbian. Don’t look at me that way. Moving on!

Betsy DeVos must be pissed. She hates underprivileged people thinking they’re just as good as normies. She also hates it when poors breathe on her or do any book-learnin’. Makes the poors think they’re deserving of the same opportunities of the upper-class. The gall!

This is the first time Stacey has mentioned club dues, so I’m assuming they haven’t been due before.

WHOA, ABBY! There’s a lot to unpack here. First of all, the Special Olympics also helps people with other disabilities, including physical disabilities. Secondly, whoa, Abby. Don’t use the “R” word. I know this is the ’90s, but man, Abby, just say handicapped or disabled. Abby, c’ mon. You need to stop talking to Betsy DeVos. Another fact about Betsy DeVos: she uses the “R” word to describe anyone who didn’t pay their way into an Ivy League College. She also thinks that whites are the true oppressed minority, despite not being either of those things and that it’s okay to drink cereal with water instead of milk.

Next Time On A Year With the BSC #42: Steez Chomping

 

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #33: Hearts for Old Farts

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

You know what we don’t do anymore? Watch a movie just because an actor or actress we like is in it. I can’t think of a single person whom I would consider my favorite actor. There are definitely actors whom I would never want to watch in a movie ever (*cough*Louie CK*cough*), but there isn’t a single actor I would watch no matter what they were in. There are actors I like, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pine, other people not named Chris. But the ’90s were a different time – we had favorite actors.

This is all to justify the random name I entered when the game asked me who my favorite actress is.

Did I enter that Amy Poehler is my favorite actress? Yes. Would I watch anything she’s in? Baby Mama proved that the answer is no. Although, I like Abby’s idea – I should have put down Lisa Simpson. Or, more accurately if we talking about fictional characters on animated television shows, Tina Belcher.

How big are we talking? As big as the map that the kids of Stoneybrook made for Stacey when she moved back to New York? I don’t care how blind the elderly are, that’s just too big.

Yep, you wasted bandwidth on this .jpg.

No, I have chocolate and Edible Arrangement related plans for Valentine’s Day. At least, I do if my partner knows what’s good for him.

That’s actually surprising, Kristy. For me, it’s Halloween. It’s the only time I can easily get Halloween decorations. Or, as I call them, decorations. If I could, I’d have a spooky tree ghost over a graveyard of zombies all year round, but the “city” thinks that it’s “inappropriate” to have bloody body “parts” in the middle of “July.”

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #31: Killing Trees

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

I started a new school semester yesterday and Kingdom Hearts III just came out, so let’s get this show on the road! What’s going on, Dawn?

Okay, not Dawn. But this is Dawn adjacent. What is a “birthday tree?” Is it an actual tree? Do you have to carve your name in order to sign it? Is it a paper tree? Is it the stump of a tree like you see at weddings now? If that’s the case, wouldn’t that make Dawn sad since you had to kill a tree to get the stump? If it’s just a paper tree, isn’t that still killing a tree? How far does Dawn take this tree thing?

That was quite the flex there, Stace. From magnets to “What’s your favorite store?” My favorite store is any bookstore where I can buy some quality The Baby-Sitters Club merchandise from Scholastic. *whisper*yeah, just put the money over there, thanks*whisper*

OMG, Claudia. You’re misspelling things on purpose, aren’t you?

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #28: Creating a Habit

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

It was a slow week for the BSC.

Claudia starts the year by resolving to work on her spelling by . . . making spelling mistakes. I know this isn’t a school paper but maybe you could start, I don’t know, looking over your spelling whenever you write something. Just to create a habit?

Why can’t the BSC ever remember the names of movies? Are you talking about The Little Mermaid, Stacey? Did you really forget the name of The Little Mermaid? Are you worried that if you mention one of their films, Bob Iger himself is going to burst through your wall like the Kool-Aid man and slap you with a Cease and Desist?

On a side note: Where’s Jessi?

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #25: Camp Word-That-Has-New-Connotations

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

Oh, boy! I’m finished with classes for the semester and just in time, too! The BSC was chatty this week.

I know, right? The holidays are a busy time! It must be nice to just hang out and make traditional foods.

Well that seems sweet. We can all gather around and relax for a few minutes before the traveling and familial obligations and gift buying. I think we should eschew the commercialism of the holiday by refusing to buy gifts and just being together with our families. If we-

Oh, boy. We couldn’t have one event without Kristy coming up with some money making scheme? And why is it always a camp? I have never been to a camp in my entire life – day or sleepover. Who are these kids going to camp?

And the name. Some right-wing crazy person during his podcast (because he got kicked off the radio for being racist) that it’s a liberal indoctrination camp where they make everyone gay kiss and rue God, or whatever crazo-s think we do with our spare time. Why can’t the BSC just take a few days off for themselves and maybe force the parents to spend quality time with their children during these fleeting years during a season that professes to be about family?

Oh, okay. I guess I’m too late. Well, tube it up, Sean. Your parents are paying for it.

Yep. Let’s not forget about what this season is actually about: waiting for gifts that you don’t need that were paid for by someone who doesn’t have the money. Happy Holidays!

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #24: Vice-President Search

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

It’s finals week for me but not for the BSC, apparently! For them, it’s holiday card time.

Looks like Abby is vying for vice-president again, trying to edge out Claudia. But you know what? I think Claudia doesn’t spend enough time on her studies, so maybe Abby should take over vice-presidential duties.

If they only had five clients, then a holiday photo would make sense. However, the BSC has, like, twenty or so charges. You try to wrangle twenty kids for one picture. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Abby. Now I see why you should be vice-president, either. Mallory’s idea is actually do-able. Maybe she should be the new vice-president.

Remember when we didn’t all have computers in our purses? Before we all had personal laptops? When there was one computer in the kitchen? And you had a sign-up sheet for computer time next to it? And you had an Epson printer that printed one line three times every five seconds so it took a full ten minutes to print one chapter of your Final Fantasy VIII fanfic? Those were the days.

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #20: Animals and Thanksgiving

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

It’s been a tough day, but I’m here to update you on the BSC. And, luckily, it was a short week the BSC, too.

Cool thinking, Mary Anne. I think it’s a great idea. What about the rest of you guys?

Okay, Stacey, but we were talking about a food drive. Also, I’m pretty sure this little story indicates that Charlotte Johanssen doesn’t understand what “luck” is. It is not finding a dog at an animal shelter. There are many great animals in shelters. It would be lucky if you found an exact replica of your childhood puppy who ran into traffic. Sorry to bring it down – it hasn’t been a great day.

It’s not a bad idea, but how will we be sure that people won’t misinterpret the animal drive and think it’s for adopting animals for Thanksgiving dinner. I wouldn’t have considered this scenario in 2015, but we live in a new world where we have to explicitly state that Nazis are bad and maybe we should consider counting every vote cast in an election.