Our Nanny is leaving soon.
Lets read that one more time to feel the full gravity of the situation.
This is me freaking out. I’m not sure what I’m going to do without her. I have no plans. I have no desire to make plans. I don’t know where to start to make plans. So I’ve decided not to figure it out. If I ignore this problem it will go away. I wish I was 4 and could stomp my feet in protest.
There will be no clean clothes and Zoe will not know what to wear, and we will all be late for school, and so I for work — every-single-day. Her hair never brushed as we will never find her hair brush again.
Gav will run out of the house in 3-day-old socks and no underwear. Clearly, I’ll have enough wits about me to make sure the kid is clothed and not still wearing his PJs but how will I have time to do a sock and undies check?
If the stars align just right, dinner might happen by 8 pm. Just in time for bed-time. Perfect. I could save myself and just feed the kids bowls of cereal and call it a bed-time snack.
I’m seeing Chick’n nuggets, lunchables and frozen pizzas in our future.
I’ll have to start making lunches again. I don’t even want to talk about making lunches.
I’ll turn into a nag.
For almost 5 years, we have had a Nanny. Gav will be 7 in January. She started when he was 2. I still can’t beleive it has been that long. I also can’t beleive he is almost 7 already. I thought by 7 he would be able to pee straight. Where am I going to find someone who will just “pop-in” everyday to clean the toilets?
Five years ago it became clear to me (or perhaps clear to my husband) that I was about to lose my mind. It’s funny how the juggling of two kids is 10x more complicated than the juggle of one. So now 5 years later I have become fully dependent. I’ve been able to travel for work without a worry – there was always someone home with the kids. I could work late and know dinner was on the table. And probably most importantly, I started my weekends, every weekend, with an empty laundry bin.
And even though there is a small part of me that was starting to feel guilty about the fact that she was still working for us, after all the kids are in school all day. At 7 and almost 10, they are self sufficient enough to make their own lunches darn it. She has in fact saved my life. Every week I am grateful.
So now what? It’s not like just anybody can do what she does for us Monday through Friday, week in week out. Who would want to?
The thought of finding someone new, and then training them, is almost as daunting as the pile of towels that will never again be folded and put away.
Funny this post is not about chocolate.
Instead I’ve brought you Smashed Potato & Broccoli Soup. A comforting and supporting soup to take my mind off the world of trouble I’m in.