Axed

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.
Mumma C

Piano man

I thought it would be mean to just have a boring “hey look at me, I’m finally into up to date technology with a Facebook page” as my only entry today. I’ve got to give my new readers a little mmm mmm taste of what they’re getting themselves into *oh god, the pressure of being my hilarious self*.
So there’s this one dog I walk every day and the owners are stuck up snobs who hire people to walk their dog. I realize it seems anyone who hires a dog walker is a snob, but that isn’t the case. We cater to the elderly, people who work (I know, weird right?), and the wealthy snobs. However I believe our company is at the bottom of the totem pole for dog walking businesses in the Kingston area, don’t ask why, just a feeling I have. Anyway, this particular family is never home when I walk their dog, I do occasionally run into their maid though… Yeah, they have a maid. However they have at least one kid who is definitely older than most of my underwear, who can walk across the street without adult accompaniment and is home EVERY time I get there. Um am I the only one who sees something wrong with this picture? You lazy little self important, I’m too good to walk my own fucking dog– GO WALK YOUR FUCKING DOG! This family could be saving hundreds of dollars a month by having their stupid kid do it, but instead they hire someone else to do it. The dog is just as stuck up as the owners. Daily I say to myself that she’s behaving like a stubborn bitch because of who her owners are. If she doesn’t want to walk in a particular direction, you better believe you’re taking the route she wants to, otherwise she’ll just sit and wait till you give in. Bitch.
To add to the beauty of the situation every time I would go to the house someone would be playing the piano. I began hearing the piano before I saw who was playing it, and thought they were quite good, good voice, but played the same damn thing every single time. So this went on for a couple weeks, piano playing every time I went to the house, which was the same time every day. I was beginning to wonder if this person was just doing it to show off when I came around. I forgot about it for a while, but then became convinced when I was maybe 5 meters from the house (who am I kidding, I know nothing of measurements). Lets just say I was out of sight of the house. I didn’t hear anything, but the second I came up to the house the piano man started belting out that same stupid song. So I’m thinking, this person is definitely trying to show off, and for the dog walker, haha, not so cool now are ya? A couple days ago I popped my head in to ask something and it was the kid, with the same singing voice! The kid was trying to impress the dog walker, how sweet. Hey, you know what would really impress me? You walking your own dog!
I had been saving this story and now that it’s out of my brain and into words, it doesn’t seem as funny as it did in my head… Awkwarrrrd.
Hope you got a laugh anyway, new and old readers alike.
Mumma C

Spankin new

I’ve come to the realization that I’m embarrassed to tell people what I do when asked. I should have realized after going to a 90 year olds birthday party with complete strangers and being asked. In this particular situation I simply said I was between jobs, to which someone replied, “Oh that’s fun, keep things fresh and new”. Uh, yea, that’s it, I’m keepin it real, a 27 year old who still doesn’t have her shit together. The shitty thing is that it’s not as if I’m sitting around watching Judge Judy hoping a job will fall into my lap (actually I do watch Judge Judy). As times have changed and you don’t pound the pavement like our parents did, we simply forward our résumé to a company and hope our email address is stupid enough to grab their attention.
While being in Kingston I’ve only had two interviews, and as you all know, did not pan out. So I’ve decided to add a little spunk to my emails to grab HRs attention. I was thinking something like, “hey did you know the bodybreakers Joanne and Hal are on the Canadian Amazing Race, neato” or “I can bench press a grown man, and yes I realize this does not relate to this job in the slightest, just thought you should know”. I only will do this for jobs that I’m way under qualified for or ones I don’t care either way if I get called. I figure it can’t hurt to throw a little of my crazy in there, at this point I have nothing to lose.
Also shout out to my New Zealand readers, safe trip home and thanks for reading!
Mumma C

No money mo problems

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?
Mumma C

Batteries needed

I’m sorry for the delay in writing, it’s been a busy dog walkin week! I’ve had a lot of messages asking what happened with the cleaning after I spoke to the babysitter so this blog will cover her first week, my multiple face smashings, and why I’m a good mother.

So on the second day of babysitting I was going to tell her to clean up after herself, and there were other things I wanted to bring up to her. I made a list of everything I wanted to talk to her about just so I didn’t forget. When it came to the next morning I didn’t have the heart to ream her out on her second day, so I decided to say nothing and see if anything changed. I come home that day and her dishes are clean, baby’s are clean, AND mine are clean. I’m figuring she either saw my notes, or read my blog. I’m a dirty slob and I’m all about, do as I say, not as I do, so I felt really bad that she went that far from reading my notes. So being the good employer that I am I told her she only needed to clean up her stuff and baby’s… um no I didn’t. It’s a week later and she’s still cleaning my dishes, and today she tidied up the entire living room/kitchen area. She doesn’t go as far as a cleaning lady would so I feel I’m not entirely exploiting her. She’s starting to do a great job with my house, and the boy is still alive so all in all I think I’ll keep her. Unfortunately no crazy stories on that side other than I have a new babysitter and “house tidier”.

This week has taken a toll on my face however. Yesterday I was sitting down, yes peeing, and I bent over to pick up toilet paper and smashed my forehead coming up on the sink. Somehow I’m not bruised but it hurts to touch or to make any of my numerous hilarious facial expressions. And today I whacked my nose on something and I’m PRETTY sure it’s broken. If I were a doctor, and I think I am, I’d say it’s broken. My nose is bruised and painful as fuck; if my forehead were bruised too I’d be one messed up looking chick. Tomorrow I’ll probably break my arm at the rate I’m going.

Little sirs has a turtle animal light that shines stars on the ceiling that he just loves to go to sleep with and push the buttons before he falls asleep. It’s been weeks since the batteries have been dead, well who are we kidding, probably months. Once I finally decided to change the batteries for him it took me another week just to get the stupid lid to the batteries screwed off, and that didn’t even get finished. That only got done because my parents stopped in and finished the job. I was like, yes finally can get this thing working again, alas I had no batteries. Yes, I could have gone out and bought three AAA batteries but that seemed like WAY too much work. I only had one thing battery operated in my home that took AAA batteries, so I went to my underwear drawer and took my batteries out. Don’t ever think I’m not a good mom based on this blog, this proves that I’m a great mom, one who sacrifices her own happiness for her child’s. 🙂

Missed you guys, hope you enjoyed!
Mumma C

Don’t talk to strangers (babysitter’s first day)

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.
Mumma C

Babysitter care: lather, rinse, repeat

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.
Mumma C

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