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’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.
We are currently on the hunt for a caregiver for our son, and it hasn’t been easy, (one thing other parents HAVE told me). What I wasn’t told however is, how do you choose? We can ask a bunch of fairly indifferent questions that we really aren’t listening to the answer of, or just go by our gut, which I’m pretty sure parents do. Candidate #1- young mother of one, who would bring her kid to the job to hang with Sir, reasonably priced, lots of experience with young children and seems to genuinely love what she does. Only problem is she wants to be paid through the government and that means we have to essentially open a business to hire her…. Ummm, goodbye candidate #1. Candidate #2- 16 year old student who doesn’t text, only uses phone for “emergencies”, sweaty palms on the table, will ride bike in the rain to get to job. Seems legit. Candidate #3- middle aged Greek woman, showed up 20 minutes late to interview, wearing hot pink capris, has a some kind of speech impediment, (not her Greek accent), reasonably priced and wants to be paid under the table, doesn’t hit children (always a plus). She has won my heart. So, who to pick, who to pick. Stay tuned.