Oh readers I come to you with a heavy, and pissed heart. Two days ago my boss told me to leave my entire set of keys in my mailbox because her boyfriend had to do something with them. Um ok, weird, but ok. Then tonight I get an email saying this dog walking thing with me just wasn’t working out. Yeah. You read me right, I was fired from the most embarrassing job to begin with. The reasoning: STUPID MOTHERFUCKING BABYSITTER. My boss said I was late three times and she can’t rely on that inconsistency with her business (not word for word, I’m more articulate than she). My babysitter was obviously late more than three times, but the times I couldn’t compensate I had to tell my boss. Remember that blog where I was complaining about my babysitter’s irresponsible lateness? Yeah, that in turn was responsible for me being fired, un-fucking-believable. Also remember when I said I was embarrassed to tell people what I did for a job? Well now I’m even more embarrassed to say I was fired from said job.
So back to the drawing board, job search, job search and pray to Jebus something comes my way. I’m getting a little sick of the luck we’ve been having since moving to Kingston, so I think I’m owed a little something.
Hello all! I realize it’s been a while since my last post and the shitty thing is that I had so many things to complain amount during my absence, shame. Since all of those things have now floated away this post will more than likely be a mish mash (if that’s a word).
I still haven’t looked into the daycare thing, surprise surprise, I’m not a procrastinator. I keep thinking once my babysitter leaves me in August that will give me the push I need to actually look into childcare. Speaking of the babysitter, things are still fine with her although she makes me late for work usually twice a week, which is a real piss off. I have to remind her that her being late for work makes me late for work, but yet it keeps happening. I can’t yell at her and tell her how irresponsible that is, like I want to, so I instead gently reminder she’s a fucking idiot. I have also discovered she has an insane artistic ability. I walked in last night and she was finishing a portrait of Ellen Degeneres and it was probably one of the best drawings I’ve ever seen. When I told Tim this the first thing he asks is if she’s a lesbian. Uh… Moving along… And, maybe. But I’m thinking of having her do something for me, and I don’t mean sexually, if she is gay. I thought um maybe a portrait of sirs, but that is something every parent would want, boooooring, so maybe some artwork, just not sure what yet. Plus I feel every wall is covered in our house and it just seems insulting to have someone pour their heart and soul into something and then you hang their art above your toilet.
Still looking for a job elsewhere, no go still and I’m really beginning to think it’s never going to happen in this one horse town. Dog walking is still dog walking, pickin up poop one day at a time, making the big bucks. Nothing really exciting to report there.
Just wanted to drop a post at least just so you know I’m still out here, you know, leading the exciting life that is, my life?
For now child labor is working out for us because we are poor and can somewhat afford her, but come September, that’s another story. As much as I’d like our very own Mary Poppins who makes medicine seem like crack… Mmm gimmie dat shit; we can’t afford it. I have briefly looked into daycare because it’s the cheaper option and sirs really needs to start meeting kids his age. The brief encounters sirs has had with other children did not bode well. One little girl his age he met charged at him and he pushed her down (he can’t even stand! Figure that out). Then her foot was touching his and he shoved her foot away from him… I think our child may be a bit of a diva. So clearly this child needs some human contact other than his awesome parents.
What I really don’t understand is how in the hell parents pay for childcare! The money the government gives you monthly for childcare could barely cover the cost of my smokes and booze, let alone a month of care for my child. I was looking at one daycare near us that offers subsidiary payment (if that’s the right word), where your payment matches your income, so that’s something I’ll be looking into. For those of you who maybe don’t have the highest paying jobs, or do that payment/income thing, what are your suggestions for being able to pay for childcare? I truly don’t understand how people pay for childcare and screw all of you with good, stable jobs, I don’t want to hear from you.
Stupid money, can you win the lottery without playing?
I didn’t have near the anxiety I thought I would leaving my child with a total stranger, especially amazing as she is just a kid. It was like pulling teeth to find out how the day went as she’s so quiet and just seemed to want to get out the door. Apparently they had a good day, he was a good boy, and he’s still alive, so that’s a bonus.
There are a few things however that I’ll have to repeat to her again tomorrow. The first thing I notice is that Cobain is eating lunch an hour behind schedule; fine, I can let that slide. Then I see he has a heaping pile of Kraft dinner in his baby bowl. My son has never eaten Kraft dinner, we try to keep processed foods and excess salt, excess of anything bad out of his diet. Even though I wanted to say, “are you fucking retarded??!” I calmly said, “oh lucky boy, you’ve never had KD before” and then showed her where his whole wheat noodles were. Then after she practically runs out the door I notice sirs diaper is on oddly, with a lot of pieces hanging out; she may need some lessons tomorrow. All of that I’m willing to not get upset about, but what took the cake is that dishes, toys, blankets outside were all still out. I told her that I wanted everything cleaned up after it was used, so she had no reason to be so lazy. I ended up having to clean all her dishes she used for herself, picked up the baby toys, and brought everything inside that she had used. THAT shit will not fly! I’ll try to be as nice as possible telling her that she needs to fucking clean up after herself in my home!
Sirs is still alive with no visible marks, so all in all a good first day of a stranger looking after baby. There will just need to be some tweaks to be done to this girl.
Since the babysitter is finally starting tomorrow I’ve been losing sleep over how she is to eat while here. Is it like every other job where you pack a lunch or am I expected to feed her my own food AND pay her? That doesn’t seem right, paying someone to eat my food, which I already have very little of. Should she eat what the baby eats at lunch, a peanut butter sandwich and fruit, or should she go BBQ herself some chicken? Do I say help yourself to anything, anything that you can find in the corners of the cupboards and the fridge. Is it rude to be like, “bring your own food, don’t want you fainting while looking after my kid”? Definitely need some feedback on this one as I have zero experience with it. The only babysitting experience I have is when my babysitters would look after me in the evening or just after school, and they just ate whatever junk food in the house they could find and used our landline to call their boyfriends. Oh the good old days when the parents didn’t want the babysitter using the phone because if there were an emergency no one could get through, and where you’d be too scared to eat their food but you saw some chips or cake that you just couldn’t pass up.
As a young babysitter myself in the 90s, the era of landlines and stove popped popcorn, I don’t remember ever getting fed during my jobs. But times have changed and I’m pretty sure what we were doing back then was a form of child labor, and we were happy to get paid 20 bucks for an entire days work looking after 5 kids. I did the math, and this is after a little child labor of my own, our babysitter is getting paid MINIMUM 300 a week. 300 a week??? I don’t think I even make that picking up poop! Fucking bullshit right there. I don’t think this girl deserves my food after getting paid more than half the working population of Canada.
Any advice would be appreciated readers! And those on Facebook, please comment here, not on the post as it comes up there.
Hello readers! Turns out having a job takes away from having any free time, boo, so I haven’t been able to write at all. I’ve missed you guys, hope you missed me too 🙂
I had Sunday off, only one day, so I decided to drive to London and back in one day. Luckily I had a good friend who is as nuts as me and was willing to do the drive with me to pick up mr sirs. Tim had to unforeseeably stay in London for an undetermined amount of time and I couldn’t not have sirs home again. The trip luckily was pretty uneventful except for driving in second gear in an automatic car. We made it just to Toronto and I already blew through an entire tank of gas. My dad lent me his car so I was pissed he gave me such a gas guzzler, and I called him three times to ask what the hell was wrong with his car. Between the three of us we finally figured out that I was in second gear which apparently is like going 120 mph. No wonder I spent 100 dollars in gas just in three hours!
So my sirs is back home and I’m working and frantically looking for childcare again. The 16 year old we interviewed was a good idea but once we asked her to work she said she would be gone for a month this summer; how fucking helpful kid. Long story short she luckily isn’t going until August so her first official day is Monday! I already have the teddies, just need to get those tiny little cameras to hide in the bear’s ass to spy on the girl. That sounded more creepy then I meant it, to see what she’s doing with sirs, not what she’s doing in the bathroom!
The job is going well, however met the creepiest man and the dog from hell this week. When there is a new client my boss goes and brings one of us to meet them and their dog. My boss and I go to the lower income housing area and we meet toothless joe with his cute dog. My boss needs to fill out a bunch of paperwork but the client didn’t want us going up to his apartment. My boss, “Well, um, where is her leash, water?” “Oh it’s just right at the door, you don’t need to worry about any of that”. Meanwhile I’m the one who has to go into this apartment first to get the dog the next day and I’m thinking of an exit strategy when the door bolts shut behind me. Toothless joe sitting in his chair with his fingers Mr. Burns style and his dog sitting obediently at his side. Luckily his apartment was relatively normal, minus the heap of dirty dishes with fruit flies, and toothless joe was absent. The dog turns out to be the horrid one and chooses to bolt into traffic to jump on cars. What dog does that?? Since I almost lost my arm I didn’t have to see that dog again, hopefully it’ll stay that way!
We have more or less narrowed down who the lucky babysitter will be, however I still found the need to look for more tonight… Hmmm. The more and more I saw caregivers who have their own children in their home while looking after my precious, the more freaked out I got. I’m convinced all kids, and not naively, want to touch each others genitals. I’ve decided that my son is the only one who gets to touch his penis, not some 9 year old girl, or even a sweet, innocent 1 year old girl. I know this is a very taboo topic, and I’m making lighthearted jokes about it, but make no mistake, I’m not fucking joking around here. It terrifies me to leave my child with some stranger, and their weird kid. Most people ask for a criminal reference check before leaving their child with someone, but is there one for their 5 year old? Ummm nope. So needless to say, I’m just not ready to leave baby sirs with a caregiver and their pervy little child.
Which babysitter did we pick? Well, unbeknownst to her yet, we chose the 16 year old, and no, not for Tim to “drive home”. I’m still looking at other options before we let her know, because I’m too nervous still to have someone else look after my kid. Once again, something other parents didn’t tell me, when do you know it’s the right time and the right person for your kid and you?