The Working Momma

Weekends are supposed to be for relaxing.  I don’t think I had a chance to relax at all this past weekend unless passingout around midnight counts.

I cleaned out Z’s room.  I did a couple loads of laundry.   I shaved the dog.  I helped HH set-up a 110 gallon freshwater fish tank.  I bleached my hair bonde and the dyed it brown after the blonde looked more like crayola yellow.  We went grocery shopping and bought halloween candy.  I finished hanging curtains in our bedroom.  I fixed a meal or two.  I got the daycare teacher that was watching Z fired.  I got “some” from my HH.  I carved a pumpkin.  I did some dishes.  I think there was more but it has gotten lost somewhere along the way.  Only so many brain cells work properly this early in the morning.

 Plus, sometime during the night I think I made time to get sick.

Isn’t being a Working Momma great?  The weekends are crammed full of the things you should have done during the week but didn’t have a chance to getting around to.

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After weeks of waiting for our previous daycare to reopen from Ike damage, we have decided to move Z somewhere else.  This was somewhat of a spur of the moment decision even though the idea had been tossed around several times before.  Right after Ike, I  called a couple of the nearby daycares to check availability and they had waiting lists so I assumed it was like that everywhere.  He was going to have to stay at this other family’s house and be babysat by one of his daycare’s teachers.  I didn’t know the parents previously nor do I know them that well after he had been staying there for over a month.  The teacher that was watching the children over there was from the class that Z was supposed to be in but they hadn’t moved him up prior to the storm.  Overall, it was a far from ideal situation but in the circumstances we seemed to not have very many options.

Friday when I went to pick Z up, one of the other little boys knocked a little girl over and made her cry.  They seemed to be about the same age and size but since I don’t even know their names or their parents I could be completely wrong.  The teacher absolutely lost her control and took her flip-flop off and started hitting the little boy with it and screaming at him.  I didn’t know what to do other than get my child, Z, away from the situation and hope that he didn’t see what went on.  I was furious and all kinds of upset about it but I didn’t say a word other than “come on Z let’s go bye-bye” and grab him up and leave.

 So many thoughts and questions were swirling around in my head.  What the hell is she thinking doing that in front of me, much less at all?  Has she done it before?  Has she done it to Z?  What other things has she done that I wouldn’t approve or agree with?  He is NOT going back there any time soon.  Where is he going to go?

I got home and told HH what happened and he was just as livid as I was.  I started calling all of the daycares that I could think of, getting the usual waiting list response of “we have 21 kids waiting for space in the 2 year old room, it IS our most popular room”.  We were getting very worried at this point thinking that we wouldn’t find anything when I called one that I remembered checking out when I was pregnant.  It was a little more expensive and a little bit out of the way but I remembered it being very nice and very clean.  I called there and they had several openings for his age.

We were there at 7 am Monday morning to check it out and enroll Z.  He really seems to be enjoying it there and I think it was the best thing we could have done given the circumstances.  My problem now is:

What do I do about the teacher?  Should I tell the daycare owners where she works what happened?

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We had finally gotten into the groove of things before Ike decided to rear his ugly head.  Now it seems as if we are all living in this awful tilt-a-whirl.

Z is all messed up when it comes to naps and bedtime.  He won’t eat his lunch or dinner.  I think this new “childcare” situation has got him turned totally upside down.  He was used to the structure that his school provided where there was a schedule that was followed every single day (supposedly).  We even have it posted on the fridge so that we can kinda keep him on track on weekends and holidays.  I don’t have any clue what is going on now.  He gets dropped off at another daycare parent’s house and one of the daycare workers “babysits” the kids until pick-up time.  I try to ask what I need to do and the lady just says”whatever you want mom”.  No effort it seems at recreating a little bit of what is done at daycare.

Now I have to pick-up Z by 5 instead of 6:30.  I used to get him at about 6 or so depending upon what was going on.  That time in-between getting off work and picking him up was my sacred time when I would run errands or have dr. appointments and stuff.  Now it doesn’t exist so I have to ask my HH to cover for me.  He does the drop-off and I do the pick-up.  That was the deal.  Now I no longer have time to run to the library or get my nails done or go to the therapist or any of the other things I might want or need to do before picking up Z.  Instead it is either drag Z along with me or beg HH to pick him up.  Plus, that means 1 1/2 more hours that I have to figure out how to occupy a 2-year-old that has the attention span of a gnat.  I love him but it is hard to cook dinner and do dishes and keep a kid from getting in trouble after a long day at work.  And with him not taking his naps he has been almost unbearable to be around.  I am sure he will eventually get so worn out that he will start his naps up again but in the meantime whew!

Instead of doing stuff before I pick up Z I have to do it after he goes to bed.  If they are open and if I am not so exhausted from work, chasing Z around, cooking, doing dishes and tapering my meds that I don’t crash before I can get out the door.

I know most people would say that this just sounds like the normal working mom complaints but ask ANYmother and she will tell you that when you get knocked off your routine or schedule or whatever you want to call it that it wreaks havoc.  You just end up feeling like a chicken with their head cut off.

I can’t wait to get back to normal!

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