Like riding a bike...

...you just jump right back on and start pedaling, right?

Our lives have sustained a huge amount of transition in the past few weeks. As I mentioned earlier, our nanny of seven months left with very little notice in April, leaving us hostage to whatever it took to make child care possible, and sucking up every moment of my time - spare and otherwise - to finding both immediate/temporary and long term child care.

There was yelling. There were tears. There was a significant sleep deficit. There was also my acceptance, for the first time, that as desperately as I want another child, we just may not be able to handle it. If it wasn't for my Dad and mother-in-law, who covered many, many days of care for the kids, I likely would have lost my job. As it was, I exhausted literally every last hour of leave I had painstakingly hoarded back from maternity leave.

And then I left my job. I'd been unhappy there and hunting for a while (read: years), but to no avail. Then I was fidgeting with my iPhone during a meeting and noticed I had a message on LinkedIn. From a recruiter. For a firm I know and respect, but hadn't reached out to on my own. It was job karma. So I did three rounds of interviews and got an offer. An actual good one. With flexibility. Working for... get this... a MOM! Of multiple, young children!

The clouds have parted, people.

So maybe it wouldn't have mattered if I'd lost my job? Just kidding.

So I started here last week, and while I'm still getting my sea legs under me, I'm really happy so far. Fingers crossed for me, ok?

Back to the nanny front, we have temporary coverage in the form of a wonderful college student - also the daughter of Monkey's preschool teacher. So we, Monkey included, already knew and loved her, and she's been a Godsend in getting us through. We have a new live-in nanny starting in the next few weeks, and I think she's going to be a rock star. Again, keep your fingers (and toes!) crossed for us, as I really don't think we can handle another nanny transition. This one has been really, really hard on Monkey, and we're still figuring out how to get her fully back on her spunky little feet. But it has shaken her confidence in the predictability of her life, and that is yet another variable in the neverending self-loathing of a working Mom.

Gone.

I've been totally MIA. Lots going on here. Working with a temporary nanny, went to the beach for a week, started a new job this week. So my apologies.

And regarding my last post on the Versatile Blogger award thing,
yes
I
know
there
were
not
actually
fifteen
favorite
blogs
in
my
list.

I know. OK? I can count, really I can. I just..... couldn't narrow it down any further. OK?!?!?

And aWAY we go!

Our nanny left this morning. At 4a.m., to be precise. Monkey had a really hard time saying good bye last night at bedtime. There were many, many rounds of hugs, and we indulged lots of extra stories and cuddling and singing to help her get to sleep without being too upset about her friend leaving. I had a knot in my stomach all night long, and I wish I understod why. It's not like I didn't know this was coming! But still, I'm really sad it didn't work out, because while it wasn't perfect, the arrangement did acheive a measure of stability that our family had been lacking. I'm trying to consciously tally what I think we did right and wrong, but that's an imperfect system at best. I did have my first taste of how I feel about people who hurt my children, and it's not pretty. Yes, I know kids are resilient. Yes, I know they'll bounce back and I'm certainly optimistic that our next nanny will stay longer and be a better fit in any number of ways. But still, I would have kept her around and just dealt with all the little problems if it meant keeping Monkey and Lion with someone they liked and had a repartee with. You know?

So we are officially here in limbo land. Lion is spending the day with Granddad, and Daddy picked Monkey up from school. Tomorow will be the same, except that I'll do the picking up. And we're trying very hard to make this seem like a fun vacation and added bonus parent time for them instead of "Holy crap I don't have this much leave to use what the HELL are we going to do?!?!?"

Which is, of course, what we say to each other after they've gone to bed.

And then we have the new nanny debate. Do we hire the one we sort of like who's ready NOW? The one who we think would be 'okay' and save us from limbo? When do we stop holding out for Mary Poppins? 'Cause I've met Mary Poppins, and she's not available until August.

How long do we keep churning and interviewing and background checking before we feel comfortable pulling the trigger?

More importantly, why am I writing this instead of checking someone's references? See ya.

I got nothing. Nada.

It's been a long time since I've been this demoralized. We had two great potential nanny replacement candidates. Great. Running background checks (not cheap, btw), checking references, skype interviews, etc. And then one of them emails that she's taken another offer. I thought she loved us! Ugh.

This whole process is SO hard. What is WRONG with us that we can't manage consistent childcare for more than a year!?!? I feel like the only girl at prom not picked to dance. Is there some huge booger on my metaphorical face that everyone can see but me???

[Editor's Note - this week's Grey's Anatomy is bizarre, The singing crap is driving me crazy. And I like musicals, btw. Weird. Icky.]

I have had a knot in the pit of my stomach since I read her email. We have eight days left with a nanny, and then we are officially screwed. I have no leave, and Hubbie could be sacrificing a promotion if he disappears now. Grandparents are willing but not really as physically able as they want to be; as they need to be to chase my Lion around all day.

This is not good, people, not good. Even if the other candidate clears background check, has good references, and accepts our offer, she still can't be here for about a month. I'm not sure we have that much of a safety net. Is this getting too much for a blog? Sorry.

I have a book problem.

I'm a pretty voracious reader, but when you have two kids under two and a more than full time job, you don't get them time to read that you used to. I used to go through a book or two a week, and reading is a big part of my preferred bedtime routine. These days, though, I get to read maybe once or twice a week.

Hasn't slowed down my rate of acquisition, though. I just grabbed another three books online Friday, and soon they'll arrive to be added to the nightstand pile. It's dominated by books about kids, discipline, and parenting, with a few just for fun fiction books in between. Since the age-oriented parenting books currently dominate my stack, I figure I'll run those down first.

I had a whole slew of pregnancy books. Totally loved Great Expectations (no, not Dickens); totally despised What to Expect When You're Expecting. I've never had a book make me feel so badly about myself so fast; and every time it freaked me out enough to consult my OB, the doctor told me to chill. So I got rid of it. But Great Expectations was really helpful in understanding what was going on with my body and still treating me like a grown-up.

I never really got into a steady relationship with an infant book that tracked milestones. The good ones try hard to caveat every milestone to make sure you don't freak out when your baby seems behind the curve, and I appreciated that. Honestly, the most helpful thing for me at this phase was Gymboree. The teachers there were amazing at tailoring the classes to each child, and I swear Miss Erika is at least partially responsible for pulling me out of PPD by showing me I wasn't a total failure as a mother. The Baby Center weekly email updates were good, too.

In general, though, I thought Happiest Baby on the Block was helpful. Even though an asthmatic could have blown their 'scientific evidence' apart, the ideas themselves still worked, particularly for calming my newborns. I hear the DVD is good, too, but I instinctively devalue any book made into a movie. :)

What has really resonated for me since then is the "Your x Year-Old" series. So far my favorite is "Your Three-Year Old, Friend or Enemy?" Totally dead on description of Monkey at three, especially the fact that three-year olds push back on their Moms more than anyone else, and that it's hard (!) to not lose ground in the relationship by responding to them. The authors totally admitted they had no advice for stopping it, and suggested that you consider cutting your losses and just having someone else look after the child while that behavior continued. Awesome. No, seriously. I love these books.

They're relatively short, and written in this sort of antiquated, lovely language that reminds me of an old, British country pediatrician. ('Cause I've known a lot of those, right?) But they're frank, and do a good job of explaining why certain behaviors are taking root and offering real suggestions about what to do about it. I'm tempted to buy one for every year of age, just to have them on hand. I definitely read them in advance to know what's coming, too.

My latest purchases have been discipline related, but I'm sorry to say I haven't actually read them. I did manage to skim relevant sections of 1-2-3 Magic on the advice of friends, and it seems like it would be sound if I could get it implemented. Working on that, I promise.

Deep thought for the day.

Motherhood... is looking down and realizing that there is a big spot of something on your sweater, and not even being embarrassed. It is also quickly considering putting your jacket on to cover it, but giving up when because there is an even bigger spot on that. It is also not even bothering to tell yourself you'll take them to the dry cleaners, because you well know that just isn't going to happen.

My least favorite thing in the world...

...is looking for childcare.

I haven't mentioned anything about this before, because it's really not a very fun topic. But a huge part of why I've been bad about posting lately is that my time has been suddenly and unexpectedly consumed with a new childcare search. Our beloved nanny, who I had fantasies of keeping for years on end, is leaving us. Really, really early. I won't go into why, but all that matters is that she feels pulled elsewhere. Not only do I want to respect that, I also don't want someone caring for my children who doesn't want to be there.

Anyway, there it is, about two weeks later. Maybe I was still in denial until recently? But I started blogging to get these things out in a coherent way and thus maybe allow me to better sort through my thoughts. While I'm sad she's going and frustrated that I have to spend so much time - so soon - on another blasted nanny hunt, I'm most worried about the kids. She's the only person besides family that has ever cared for Lion. And Monkey is very attached to her and routinely lists her as part of our family. So I'm really stressed about finding the right way and time to tell Monkey about this.

Not to mention finding the right person. I'm not only looking for all the traits that I think make a good caregiver, I'm not obsessively trying to gauge how sincere someone is about their willingness to make a longer commitment and how well they really understand what they're getting into as a full-time, live-in nanny. It doesn't help that the first good interview we had turned out to be telling me everything I wanted to hear - which I learned after being alerted she had a drug problem and had stolen from her last family. So now I'm totally second guessing my own instincts.

This whole thing bumps up against all of my insecurities about being a working Mom.

This is three hires in a year and a half - a part-time nanny for a few months before Lion was born, a hire who never ended up coming because of a last minute personal crisis, and our current nanny. I'm exhausted. And losing faith in whether we'll ever be able to find someone that will give the kids the love and stability they deserve.

Blog Challenge - Day 22.

Day 22. What did you do today?

Ha. This is easy compared to other topics this challenge has been throwing at me.

I got up after only two hits of the snooze button. Took a shower and did hair and makeup, all while Lion was starting to make his sweet baby noises in his room. Come get me, please? Drank in the thuds of everything in his crib hitting the ground one-by-one, each followed by a soft little, "Oh-oh."

Checked the blackberry calendar to see if I needed to wear a suit today. Yup. Blech.

Opened the door to Monkey's room so she knew she could get up when she felt like it. The luxury of spring break and not having to rouse her from lazing in bed. Got dressed. Received Miss Sleepyhead as she stumbled out of her room and declared she wanted to get dressed. And that she would be pretending to do ballet today, so she needed a skirt. Got her dressed. Finally responded to Lion's ever more insistent noises and headed downstairs with the both of them. Trailed Monkey to the basement to snag a tutu from the dress-up chest. Convinced her it was okay for our nanny to pour her cereal while I packed up to go. Started coffee.

Stalled. Gave multiple rounds of kisses and I Love You's. Tried to convince Hubby to give me a ride so I didn't have to pay for parking today. Failed.

Retrieved coffee, phone, and blackberry. Gave another few rounds of kisses, and finally left the house. Drove to work.

And that's really the end of the day, at least until I get home tonight. You don't care what happens in between, 'cause it's not the important part.

Blog Challenge - Day 6.

Day 6. Your most embarrassing moment.

Oh, boy.  Here we go.  Most of my embarrassing moments have to do with not holding it together, or not putting myself forward in a way I can be proud of.  It's not very significant, but the first one that comes to mind is from fifth grade.  There had been sort of a nasty smell in the classroom for a while, and somehow someone decided it was coming from my desk.  I was sort of a geek, and fifth grade was probably the height of my torment - my classmates were pretty open in their scorn of me.  This is one of my greatest fears for my kids - that they'll experience the kind of bullying and misery that I did at that age.  This was before bullying was a hot topic, and the school did pretty much nothing about it.  Honestly, I probably shouldn't worry about the kids - they seem to get their social skills from their Dad's side of the family, and it's a pretty social gang.  My sister in law was a queen bee of sorts; the girl I would have been PETRIFIED of in school, and the whole gang was pretty popular.  I like to joke that hubbie never would have married me if we'd met before I escaped that school and was able to stand on my own.

Anyway, you've probably guessed by now that the smell WAS coming from my desk, and was some ridiculously old sandwich I'd stashed in there to save at some point.  I'll never forget how it looked, or the outright nastiness of my classmates, or the feeling that somehow I had now confirmed everything uncool they'd ever thought of me.

Ugh.  I hadn't thought of that in a really long time.  Thanks for the uplifting post today, me!

We all probably have many, many answers to this question.  I also have a more topical, recent one, which I'm still living down.  I've grown out of my awkwardness, and people who meet me in college or beyond have a hard time believing the level of nerd-dom I once acually achieved.  These days, I have a somewhat stern, polished exterior at work, and it's hard to get me to show any kind of weakness.  It's a product of the environment in the office - no excuses.  I actually find it sort of exhilarating to always be on my toes - best game forward.  It's served me well, and I've been promoted quickly and become well respected there. 

But that attitude is not exactly compatible with being a working Mom who always feels like she's hanging by a thread and would rather be with her kids at any given moment of the day.  I've been a Mom for almost four years now, and I still really struggle with not being able to give all of myself to kicking butt at work.   I figure there's only 24 hours of me to go around, though, and any extra time work gets can't go to the kids.  I don't have a hard time making that call at all, so work gets what I have to give it, and no more.  I've definitely become smarter with how I use my work time since becoming a Mom, and hopefully it makes up for the fact that I now refuse to work the significant overtime that is considered status quo. 

Anyhoo!  That's my context setting for the embarrassing moment that bothers me far more than the great sandwich incident of 1980-something.  I was a few weeks back from maternity leave, and Lion had yet to sleep through the night.  (That's actually a nice foreshadowing to the next challenge question about whether I believe in cry-it-out sleep training, but I'll leave you in suspense for now.)  So with a solid 6+ months of sleep deprivation under my belt, my show-no-weakness attitude wasn't really holding up.  Although it was never diagnosed, I'm fairly certain I was also struggling with late-onset post partum depression. It was a real rough patch.

Things were starting to fall through the cracks, and I knew it, and I just could not bring myself to do anything about it.  Not only was I not doing an amazing job, I was totally missing deadlines without batting an eye.  I didn't care, and it was entirely unlike me, which scared me even more.  One afternoon my supervisor came to ask me about the status of a project and I guess it just became too much and I couldn't stop the water works.  It wasn't a huge dramatic moment, but I did cry, and it clearly made him incredibly awkward.  Which made me even more upset.  In one fell swoop I erased over seven years of hard work and transformed myself into a weak, crying, woman.  And I don't think I'll ever be able to erase the way I've changed in his mind.

I'm back to my old self these days, getting some sleep and back on top of my game, but I know I've lost my boss' trust.  Not just because of the tears, although it was almost funny how unable to handle them he was.  I wasn't the person he knew for several weeks, and I'm not sure I'll ever get back the full measure of his confidence.  I've thought about telling him what was going on, but if he couldn't deal with one teary incident, I can't begin to guess how he'd respond to the word Depression.  Not to mention *post partum* depression.  It almost makes me giggle to imagine it, but somehow I don't think it would be a positive move professionally.  Holy cow.

It's funny.  While Monkey was clearly glad to have her Dad around this weekend, she also did a lot of acting up.  When it's just me, life is very calm, because I've learned not to take very much on when I'm outnumbered.  But with him back this weekend, we went back to our usual errand running.  Plus Daddy doesn't really lend himself to planning - that's more my thing - and we never stick to the kids' nap or food schedules, invariably causing meltdowns.  Plus he really wanted to have time with her, so I took Lion most of the weekend while they went to the playground, rode bikes, etc.  And while I know she enjoyed that time, she also tends to do better with some Mommy one-on-one.  I'm assuming the combination of things contributed to her tough weekend, behaviorally.  But today is our afternoon together, so hopefully we'll get things back on track.  Plus Hubbie left yesterday for a three day trip, so we're back to our super calm survival mode anyway.  Although not without a difficult transition back into single parenting as the kids see the changes again.  Just more evidence that what we need is more calm, more contemplation and quality time, and less busy busy.

Gosh I love childcare arrangements.

Are you kidding?  Our nanny texts yesterday morning that she's got a stomach bug.  Hubbie is still working constantly with no flex, and I'm still way negative on my leave from taking maternity leave.  So any time I don't work I don't get paid.  And I need to get paid.  So I get Monkey a playdate after school until 3pm, but what about the Lion?  We have grandparents in the area, so they can bail us out sometimes.  But Granddad doesn't think he's up for the Lion... too active.  And Mimi has an appointment she can't move.  So I just lost a day of work. 

Granted, it was a nice day.  Got to spend some quality time with Lion, visit with some of the other Moms, and then pick Monkey up myself, which she loves.  Cancelled the playdate after realizing I'd have to be home anyway.)  Ran some errands and did laundry.

But again, this morning with the scramble.  Mimi coming over to play with Lion.  Monkey getting picked up by Granddad.  How to get him a carseat?  Lay out everything for Mimi.  Get to work.... 2 hours late and after boss arrives so I'm totally busted.

Balance is a crock.

Groove going again.

I finally feel like I'm getting a groove going with this parenting-solo thing.  I'm not going to call it single parenting, because I think that a huge part of what makes that difficult is living on a single income.  But that's a tangent.  I'm just getting the hang of things after two-plus months.  I no longer dread doing dinner and two bedtimes alone.  I get home, get the download from our nanny, finish dinner with Monkey while feeding Lion and myself.  Then a few minutes of play, or dancing, or Valentine-making before Lion gets plopped into bed.  Monkey hangs out while we do his routine, which is sweet.  Then Monkey to bed herself, relishing her new pajama options. 

What's more, I no longer resent not having anyone to talk to or sit with.  Actually, I'm starting to really enjoy the silence once the kids are in bed.  I get to pick my own TV shows - no more Military Channel! - or even just read quietly in bed without feeling compelled to wring some quality time out of the few hours we get after work.  Or last night, when I had a marathon conversation with an old friend that was seriously invigorating.  I never would have done that if hubbie had been home.  Tonight I may DVR a movie that hubbie NEVER would have gone in for.  Something sensitive and gushy.  Or (gasp) introspective.  Or with subtitles! 

Now, of course, the problem is his life-sucking project is almost over.  This is a great thing, and I'll be glad to have him back.  But I will soon have to give up my new found independence, just when I've grown to appreciate it.  Isn't that the way it always works?

Good days.

I finally got to take my afternoon with Monkey last Friday. It's supposed to be on Mondays, but last week at work was sort of crazy and I had to rearrange it twice. But in the end, we had a GREAT day. We had lovely lunch with one of her friends and her Mom and brother. Monkey tried to get her friend to eat sushi (Monkey LOVES sushi), but that was not happening. Then we went to Home Goods to get her a trash can for her room - her request - and had such a fun time exploring the store and debating new potholders. I see many fun girl shopping trips in our future. We got her an adorable, neon pink trash can with a flip-up top on a foot lever. She loves it. Amazing how little things can be so important. We went home and played board games, snuggled, chatted, and just generally had a great time. It was a truly heart warming day, one that gives me a glimmer of hope that we're moving out of the terrible threes and into a kinder, gentler four. I've always said that each new age and stage is better than the last, but three and half has been the first exception to that.

Then, even though Daddy worked all weekend again, we still managed to eek out a pretty good weekend. Except that many, many people are RSVPing no to Lion's 1st birthday/baptism fete. I know we sent out invitations late, but I thought we'd at least managed to warn the key players. Apparently not. May have to reschedule, which would put it really close to Monkey's birthday party, since our church doesn't do baptisms over Lent. Ugh. I don't have it in me to do any more planning/special projects. I need an assistant - anyone interested?

By a thread

I'm having one of those weeks (okay, it's been more than a week) when I feel like I'm barely hanging on. Hubbie is totally MIA for a work project, has been for weeks, and will be for a few weeks more. This single parenting thing STINKS, people. Seriously hard. I have tried to tell every single parent I know just how awesome I think they are.

Regardless, when I got sick a little over a week ago, I went completely militant about not spreading germs. Pretty much slept for two days straight, even though I don't have any sick leave. Then last Thursday Lion went super cranktastic and started running a fever. Bronchitis AND an ear infection. How long had THAT been coming on that I didn't even notice? I feel like a bad, bad Mommy that he obviously was sick several days (at least) before we caught it, but the pediatrician kindly reassured me I must have a child with a high pain threshold. (I always thought that would be a good thing, but no.)

Friday night, from Monkey's room, comes the cough. The hacking, seal-barking croup cough. So with me barely back on my feet and committed to speaking about four hours away on Saturday, both kids are down. We went anyway, since we all needed a change of pace, and we thought four hours in a warmer direction and some fresh air might be good for everyone. Instead, my kids made the hotel their own personal infirmary and laid in bed for two days straight in another state. Monkey was delighted. Through the fever, she kept raving about how "they bring food to my BED." Child loves room service. go figure.

Anyway, long story short, Monkey is finally back at school today after over a week, Lion is better but still on the clingy, finicky side, and husband is sick, but working through it. Of course. And I'm exhausted. Two coughing kids means I don't sleep for worrying, and that isn't the greatest way to get better yourself. Then I got food poisoning. And now I'm a zombie. Don't really want to eat, but am getting weak for lack of it. And really, desperately need a full night sleep. Maybe tonight? Wish me luck.