Well, hiring a doula didn’t work out as a permanent solution to the childcare problem (and a good thing, too, at $20 an hour!) We did, however, find a kind and competent student babysitter at less money, who could do more hours (six) a week. Since Jack turned eight months old, lovely Lesley has been coming to our home twice a week and we (I) couldn’t be happier. The only drawback is that I don’t leave the house to write (which is my self-allotted activity during my off hours), meaning that I listen with half an ear to their interactions as I plug away on the upstairs computer. Mostly, what I hear is Lesley’s huge expenditure of effort as she tries to meet Jack’s inexhaustible pit of needs. That, and her repeated offerings of ‘cheerios, cheerios!’ which she seems to feed him throughout her time here. He does indeed love his cheerios; they are the gateway drug which I place temptingly on any spoonful of new food, in a cunning ploy to expand his culinary repertoire. So ubiquitous, in fact, are cheerios that I wonder sometimes if we will be serving them at Jack’s wedding breakfast (cake and cheerios, anyone?). Then I remember that I felt that way about the swing he slept in for the longest time, the wrap he napped in forever and the car seat he detested on sight. And I have a new understanding of that phrase embedded in mother lore: ‘this too shall pass.’ Or, as my friend Sej would have it: ‘Our main job is not to kill them, the rest will take care of itself’.
Sometimes, though, I still think I should bulk order those cheerios now, just to be prepared…
Did I really say that???
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