This is a topic I had in my mind for a while and had been waiting to write an entry on. But first to update you all on my life the past couple weeks. I just became more angry before any other emotion after the firing, mostly because I’ve never been fired in my life, and it was something completely out of my control. But on a happy and unexpected note, I had an interview for a support worker at the Y in before/after school programs. Although it’s only part time, it’s a REAL job and I wouldn’t be embarrassed to share with the world what I do. I find out this Friday, so I will definitely keep you guys posted. On a personal note, Tim returned home for a short time, but sadly had to return to London again for an undetermined amount of time. So sirs and I are getting back into our routine and doing our best not to kill each other while daddy is away.
Not that the sex thing is an issue now that I don’t have someone to have sex with. But when my husband is around and in the future when sirs is a human being with ears. Whenever I have this discussion with other parents most of them say they have their children in the room across the hall and just giver. Umm, am I the only one who wouldn’t be comfortable with this? Currently our house is attached to my dad’s, with cement, brick, insulation, etc etc between us, and I’m STILL convinced they can hear us. Now once sirs is old enough to hear us I’m not sure my husband and I will ever have sex again. I figure there are only a few options if I ever want to have sex again- 1) Move him to the basement- beside the kitty litter 2) Get a 6 story house, and he still lives in the basement 3) Wait until he’s out of the house (um at 18?) 4) Send him to boarding school. So as you can tell there are few options and none are viable, shit. Other weird fucking couples may be okay with their children listening to them do the humpy hump, but I’m not one of those freaks. Some of you may say, “Oh, we just wait until they’re asleep”. Um yea, just a heads up, they’re not really asleep, you naive bastards. In any baby books, toddler, etc, or marriage books, I’ve never seen how to comfortably have sex while children are in your house. That’s one thing I’d like to know. Anyone have any suggestions, and not anything I’ve mentioned here.
This isn’t going to be an exciting, hilarious post like my usual ones, but just to give my none Facebook readers a heads up. I was convinced and hand held into creating a Facebook page for my blog and this is to let you know it’s up and running! The link to view/like is on the right hand side so please visit and enjoy. Everything that I post there is with you guys in mind, random thoughts I don’t write blogs on, or pictures, some relating to previous entries. Lots of love and thanks again for all the support.
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’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!
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.
So far so good with signing my life over to the crazy boss lady. The job is fun, easy going, and you rarely have to deal with people, bonus! There’s the odd scary old lady who wants everything to be very exact and it’s like she’s just waiting at the door for you to tell you what you did wrong on the walk. Yea, she wasn’t on the walk. All in all, nothing really to report there.
My baby sirs isn’t coming home now for another week and this is causing me major distress. My fun time, mommy alone time has quickly passed and now just become grief. I just found out today that Tim hasn’t been feeling well so he’s not able to make the trip for another couple of days. Oh and before hearing this I finally decided to get my windshield wipers looked at. They had stopped working 3 months ago, and I just figured I’d Ace Ventura it and drive with my head out the window when it rained. Now that I’m driving for a living and it was pouring today, and I didn’t feel like killing myself or anyone else, I finally decided to go to crappy tire to get it looked at. Long story short, luckily was just a bolt loose and “only” cost $150. That really was just to have someone look at it and screw a bolt, and this was after 2 1/2 hour wait. Let me tell you, Canadian Tire is not THAT interesting for 2 hours.
Anyways, I started to tear up a bit while waiting there thinking of not seeing baby for another week. I held it together in public, but when I got home I just cried for 15 minutes in the shower. I want to cry just thinking about it now. Don’t think that your baby will be the only one with separation anxiety, trust me, you will feel it too. When I am away from him I always wonder if he’ll forget me, or resent me, or not want me around when he comes home. I hate when people tell me he won’t forget, you’re his mom, bla bla. How can they know what a 13 month old is thinking, or feeling? Tim told me he’s been really cranky the past day or so, and I can’t help but think it’s because of me. He’s beginning to eat more exciting food, his hair is getting longer, and I think he’s very close to walking. I know it sounds stupid to think it’s only two weeks, but you’d be surprised at how quickly they change in such a short amount of time. When you’re with them all the time you don’t notice it, but when you’re away and then you see them again, you definitely notice it.
Being away from baby and hubby for a couple days is a godsend, it’s like you’re single again and have no cares in the world. But once you do become a mumma, despite all the rants and sour grapes, he’s still your baby and you miss him every second you’re away from him.