June 13, 2007

5 Days and Counting

So. I have never been the type of person that hasn't been able to sleep. For as long as I can remember, as soon as my head hits the pillow I am dead to the world. Don't get me wrong. Of course I've learned how to completely function without 1.5 hours of sleep because well, you know I had two babies and that's just part of the job description. But I have to say that ever since Giggles started sleeping through the night, and but for the occasional nocturnal interruption by Chatterbox, I've totally gotten used to getting a full night's rest. Until last week.


Last week was the bearer of some particularly stressful news. And no, it wasn't the news about poor old Paris having to tough it out without her Sidekick for 45 days - the bad news was that Nini is moving because she got the opportunity to purchase a single family home. And of course, ordinarily when someone buys a home you are elated for them and excited and supportive and you can't wait to visit with a stylish little housewarming gift from Pier 1. Ordinarily. Too bad for us, Nini is moving 26 miles away. So no matter which way you look at it, we have to find a new babysitter for our precious little gals. Oh and one more thing. She is moving on Saturday. Yes, yes, that's right - this coming Saturday. Which means we had a grand total of 2 weeks to find a new Nini, and folks that's just impossible.


And I know what you're thinking: "Why didn't she tell you sooner?" "Didn't you know she was house hunting?" And I will woefully answer you: "It's a long story having to do with the nature of her homebuyer's program blah blah blah" and "No." And really, after pulling all of my hair out and chewing my nails to the quick, I've accepted all of that and moved on. But then came the daunting task of trying to find a replacement.


Of course I immediately sent out a Panicked Working Mother Nanny Alert to every acquaintance I knew. My mommy group, my church family, my book club, heck, if you've sent me an email in the last 365 days, you probably got an email from me too. [Sorry "Л.Л. Красовицкий@aol.com" I know you speak Russian and probably are offering the greatest mortgage rates around, but would you be a doll and just check to see if you know anyone who knows a great nanny? m' kay, thanks!] And I hit all of the classifieds and message boards I could think of. Then came the emails, phone calls and interviews. And, OH YEAH, I've had to squeeze in 9-hour workdays, family time and entertaining an out-of-town guest in between all of that. So, I won't bore you with details of it all, but let me just say that the pickins' are slim out there folks. Between shady-looking home daycares, nannies who want a company car and stock options and those who can only communicate with you via hand gestures and their 6-year-old son as a translator, it's rough.


And then the guilt sets in. You know, the Working Mommy Guilt.


Which is the reason why I am up blogging at 5:00am. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I am completely stressed and now that we have exactly 3 days to find Mary Poppins, I am panicked. We finally found someone that we really liked and were very comfortable with, who was great with the girls and very personable. I exhaled. We agreed on her hours and rate over the weekend, informed all of our other prospects that we had found someone, and we invited her over for dinner last night. But she called to cancel at 4pm. Inhale. She found a family that was willing to pay her more $ for less hours. And so. It was all I could do not to burst into tears while holding the phone and nicely diced veggies in the other. In any event, that door closed and, by the way, I still have tons of chicken marinating in a lovely red wine vinegar marinade should any of you be interested.


Ironically, yesterday around 5pm, Nini called to inquire as to whether our offer that she come to our home to care for the kids was still on the table. She says that she is attached to the girls and would like to stay with them as she couldn't bear to have them be watched by complete strangers. And so, while this is good news, I can't help but worry. If we thought that 26 miles was too far to drive to take our girls to her, how can 26 miles not be too far for her to drive to come to us? Will she be on time? What if there's traffic? What about her school-aged kids? Hubby says I am worrying for nothing and I just need to thank God for intervening. And I am thankful, believe me. But I still can't sleep.

I'm working on the eating part though. Archway Molasses Cookies taste pretty good at 5am.

In case you were wondering.

6 comments:

JeniBeans said...

hey, I'm game for some chicken and cookies. hehehe

Hopefully everything will work out. But I, too, wonder about her driving that distance. I live in a not-too-small-town, but not yet a BIG city...and the traffic here gets nasty at rush hour.

I would stay on the hunt for another one...because even if it does work, it might get kinda tiring for her to do it every day, you know? In other words, it might get really old really quick.

Good luck!

Lawyer Mama said...

Aw, crap. Good luck. This is my nightmare scenario. NIGHTMARE!

Justice Jones said...

It sounds like it has all worked out perfectly in the end. You did say that Oldest starts school in two months, so hopefully Nini will hang on long enough. And if she's getting at your house by 7am, won't she beat the traffic? Keep your options open, but look at the bright side, you don't have two kids to dress, feed, and pack up in the morning anymore. You can leave them sleeping at home, while you dress, shower and run out the door. Nini will feed them, dress them and take of that while you are the person sitting in morning traffic.

I say exhale and be glad.

Jodi said...

child care issues SUCK... i don't think there is much that is more stressful - hugs to you

AND - you are from Canada? cool.

Sarah said...

Aww, Fergie! You sound so stressed. Poor girl. I hope everything works out with Nini commuting. :)

Susan said...

26 miles isn't THAT far, is it? I hope it can work out. If you got a good thing going, don't mess with it. Good luck with that!

Susan at Working Moms Against Guilt

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