The Nanny Diaries, Part 367

Well, hello. What's that you say? Nanny interviews? Again? Sure, why not! I never get tired of asking strangers questions about what kind of childcare activities they've participated in over the last few years, how they feel about watching a toddler and two ridiculously poorly behaved dogs all day, whether they're happy with their current living/employment situation, and what additional strangers I may call to verify that they're not feeding me a line of bull just to get into my house and neglect my child while stealing my liquor (or whatever it is that bad nannies do).

I don't have a lot to complain about when it comes to this whole parenting process. Seriously, Brigid is a dream child right now...she's cute, she's funny, she gives me an excuse to listen to Christmas music around the house twenty-four hours a day. Sure, she's just starting to touch the toddler tantrum stage, but it hasn't reached the point that we've been subjected to any full blown meltdowns (yet), so it's still manageable. I could do without the whole diaper part of the equation, but it's not something that I wasn't expecting.

However...trying to find someone to pawn my childcare responsibilities off on one day a week is really starting to wear on me. A lot. I already feel guilty for working Monday-Thursday, since I was raised by a stay-at-home-mother (a very good one, I might add...hi, mom!), and having to go through this process every couple of months? It kind of stinks. It's like I get a quarterly reminder that I am cheating my child out of the full mother experience by not being home. And have you met me? I am an experience she needs to not be cheated out of...

I miss my kid when I'm not at home. But I also enjoy going into work (most of the time). I like my company. I like finance. I like spreadsheets.

I like having an excuse to wear a skirt and heels a couple of days a week.

(Yes, I did just admit that I like working in an office because of the clothes. So what of it?)

So, I don't want to be a mom who works outside the home. But I don't want to be a full-time stay-at-home mom, either. But sometimes I do, actually. Because I go back and forth on this at least once a week. Usually internally. But sometimes, not.

And I'm beginning to see why Steve referred to me as his headache box a couple of days ago (long story...but it totally made sense in context, I swear). I understand. My head, it's an exhausting place to be.

Oh well, I suppose it's all about making the best of what's in front of you. Maybe someday, the ideal situation will present itself, and I will be head over heels in for it, and I will be the happiest person in the world.* In the meantime, I will continue to pull hope from my back-up plan, the one where we just win the lottery, move to the beach, and no longer worry about any of this stuff because we won the lottery and live on the beach. I like that plan.

　

*Or, I will just find something new to complain about, which, if I'm being completely honest, is actually the more likely of scenarios.