Sunday, January 20, 2013

A Picture is Worth....A Lot!!

There are many reasons why I do not like living far from my parents.  I miss them.  I would love for Sadie and Harrison to grow up close to them.  I want the kids to be able to play with their cousins regularly.  And I don't like living far from my parents for selfish reasons also.  I can't just call and say - hey, I'm bringing the kids over so I can clean, cook, run errands, workout, etc.

My house is in a constant state of...mess.  I can't go to the gym since I need childcare, so that's one of my excuses for being fat.  (actually, I could, but I'm not ready to drop off Harrison at some random room with dirty toys and a teenager.)  I go to the grocery store and end up with three bags of goldfish crackers, string cheese, some fruit and milk, but nothing to make a meal with.  It's 10:30 by the time I'm ready to leave the house, so that doesn't leave much time to do anything before needing to be home for Sadie's nap.

All of this to say, I need a little help.  Kris thinks I need a lot of help.  And all of this makes me feel like such a failure.  I'm facing the facts, though, something's gotta give.  So, the search is on.  I think my expectations are a bit unrealistic.  I want someone who I can call on a couple days a week in the morning, but not necessarily the same day every week.  I have things come up, I might have a play date for the kids, and I don't want to turn these things down because I have a scheduled sitter at my home.

Anyway, I've been searching on two different websites.  Let me tell you who I am going to immediately pass over and not even give a second chance.  Please don't post a glamour shot.  If I can't decide if they're wearing shorts or panties, I will not contact them.  Surely they can find someone to take a snapshot - I will not look at a profile if they are dressed for a night out on the town and decide that's a good time to snap a picture of themselves sitting in their car.  If the picture has a gold/orange tint to it and makes me think that it was taken in 1987, I will pass right over.  Some look like they would steal from me.  Nope.  OK, so I don't want a glamour shot, I don't want you dressed for a night on the town, but at least a little makeup would be nice.  Not even makeup.  Just dress as though you care.  A little.

Then I find pictures that are acceptable.  When reading the profile, if it's obvious they are not proficient in English, I will have to keep searching.  I need them to be able to communicate with my children.  If grammar and punctuation are a mess, most likely you will not be hired by me.

I want a younger girl who is educated and loves children.  Sounds easy enough.  But it's not.  If I want them young and educated, they're probably in school and can't help in the mornings.  Or if they are young and educated, I would hope they'd be able to get a "real" job.

Blah blah blah....this is tough.  Are there any young educated girls who know how to take a decent picture out there who would enjoy playing with my kids for a few hours each week?  We shall see.  Wish me luck as the search continues!

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Date Night: Then and Now

I realize that this is very natural and not unusual, but last night it hit me.  Kris and I are like a real married couple with young kids.  When did this happen?  It's weird.  But great.  And often stressful.  But fun.

While dating, Kris and I were very casual.  Seriously dating, but our dates were casual.  Nothing really over the top or necessarily romantic.  We would hang out at home, and.....as I sit here trying to reflect on our past dating life, I cannot really remember dates.  Whatever.  Anyway....

Our church has a Kid/Parents' Night Out once a month.  Last night was that night.  Children get to play with their friends at church from 6-10:00.  So, it's 5:30 and I'm sitting at the table with wet hair feeding Harrison.  No makeup.  Sadie is running around doing who knows what.  I had just taken a shower but should have waited until after I got sprayed with sweet potatoes and cereal.  Around 5:50, Kris asks what time the kids can be dropped off.  Well, not yet since I'm not ready.  I hurriedly put on makeup, grab the first thing I could find to wear, chase Sadie in order to dress her, get Harrison's bag packed, and we're out the door.  Whew!

We leave the kids at 6:20, but we have no idea what we're going to do.  We'd thought about going to see a movie, but my thoughts were 1. it's expensive to go to the movies, and 2. if I'm sitting still in a dark room, chances are I will fall asleep.  And isn't the point of having a night out with your spouse to converse and catch up on all that you don't get to talk about while kids are around?  So we drive.  Sadie needs some clothes, her wardrobe is worn and quite limited.  OK.  So we go shopping.  For the kids.  Then we went to dinner.  And discussed kids.  What did we talk about before they came along?  The weather, I guess.

The kids were picked up.  Harrison was asleep and Sadie was sleepy.  They both got in bed without any problems.  Time to get ourselves ready for bed.  In the bathroom, Kris is brushing his teeth while I take off my makeup.  I put on my mismatched pajamas, go to bed, and Kris is already there.  Snoring.  And that was our night.

Yep, it's happened.  We are that couple.

(This is completely off topic, but I just thought I'd throw it out there.  While pregnant with Sadie, people were always so nice to help out with advice on things I would and would not need.  One item I heard over and over that was pointless was a diaper wipe warmer.  OK, won't get one of those.  So yesterday I was sitting on the floor changing Harrison's diaper when Sadie came up behind me and put a wipe on the back of my neck.  I jumped!  That thing was COLD!  Seriously.  I yelled, which she thought was hilarious.  She kept putting it on my bare skin.  I didn't like it.  If I didn't like a baby wipe on my neck, I'm sure it can't be comfortable to have your bottom wiped with one.  Poor Harrison.  I'm thinking now that I might need one after all.  Because my children are spoiled.)