Tag Archives: childminder

For my benefit.

L was a screamy baby.  She could scream for hours.  It made no difference who she was with or what she was doing.  If she wanted to scream, she would.

O is less screamy.  He’s easily consoled by mummy cuddles. But this is the problem.  The mummy cuddles.

On Monday they did their first session with the new childminder.  It was the first time O was away from me for more than a few hours. I dropped them off at 8.30am. I was expecting a phonecall to come and get him at about 11am.

You see, on a Thursday when he’s here with his Nanny then his father he gets hysterical.  On Friday when he was at home with Grandma he refused formula and cried himself to sleep. When I’m here with him he cries if I leave the room, if I put him in his travel cot and if I don’t feed him when he expects it.

We have been trying to give him formula through the day but he won’t touch it. 

All of this I thought would amount to an awful first day for him.

Bollocks.

He cried twice. He napped easily.  He took the formula.  He ate the food. He’s a little shitbag.

I say this because yesterday when I was running on low tolerance he cried each time I left the room.  He cried when I changed him after he expected a feed.  He cried in the pushchair.  He cried in the highchair.  He completely refused the formula and cried.

I am devastated that he’s behaving this way for me.  It breaks my heart to think that someone else is already getting the best of him.

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Something I heard today

So, I just have to tell you.

At playgroup.  A lot of childminders take their charges there.  Something to do to break up the day.

One childminder is moaning about a parent to another childminder…and I overhear:

They have a day off work and still send their kids to us.  It’s like they don’t want to spend time with their children.

Yes she said that.

I felt like saying:

We are in a recession. We as parents have to pay you regardless of whether we send our children or not.  Therefore we as parents are going to send our children every fucking day we can to get our fucking moneys worth. If you stop charging for days you don’t havr our kids, then yes, we’ll keep them home, but until that, they will come to you and we will enjoy our day cleaning the house and drinking coffee.

I didn’t say anything. I wish I had.

My rollercoaster week

After the panic attack last week, I’ve been on a bit of a slippery slope.

Stress induced nausea is not fun.

Monday saw me trying to get an appointment at the Doctors, failing and feeling really shitty and as if no one wanted to help me.

Tuesday I went to a playgroup, knew no one, heard some women talking crap about breastfeeding and almost had a go at them.  I also found the staff member who came over to introduce herself quite condescending.  Oh and L wanted a drink, they told me snack time was over and then I caught one of the Cousins with a juice and a snack! So yeah, really not fun.  But I did get to have a heart to heart with OHs sister which I really enjoyed.

Ballet in the afternoon made me feel even worse when one of the other mums that I sort of know in passing turned up with her toddler and a 13 week old (I didn’t know she had two).  Her hair was done, she was wearing makeup and her kids behaved beautifully.   I hadn’t bothered to brush my hair, I was sweaty from a morning of chasing the toddler around and the Toddler decided to climb on the stage and refuse to go back in the car.  Oh and O needed to be fed all the way through.  So yeah, that left me feeling pretty crappy.  Especially when this woman started saying about how hard it was having 2! I know, I don’t know what her story is, and I don’t know that she didn’t just make herself up and things so that she didn’t feel shitty.  I’m probably being a bit unfair, but I was struggling.

Wednesday morning, shitting myself, I went to another playgroup with OHs sister….

And loved it.

The group has a very women friendly community feel.   The kids are in an entirely safe environment.  Everyone pitches in.  They have an arts and crafts half hour, which L loved.  They even got out the bouncy chair for O so I didn’t have to carry him around.  The other mothers were lovely and the ladies who run it were absolutely magnificent.  Loved it loved it.  Hearts.

Wednesday afternoon I went to view a preschool for L while we are still having issues.  Ended up enrolling her.  There was another woman there whose little girl and L kept fighting.  When I say fighting I mean they kept trying to sit on the same chair.  L is VERY strong-willed (why we clash – she’s as pig-headed as her mother!) and if someone is doing something unfairly, she will correct them.  (I caught her telling older children off for going up the slidey bit of the slide on Tuesday!)  Seeing as The Toddler seemed pretty at home there, we went for it.  Plus they gave us free food (always a bonus!)

Thursday I spent the morning with OHs sister again.  More bonding and chatting.  I wish there was something I could do to help her just get some time to herself at the moment so she can finish the things she needs to do, but short of taking her kids in place of my own, right now I’m helpless.  All I can do is go round there and make sure cousin 3 and cousin 4 and L and O don’t kill each other.  Maybe that’s enough for now.

Then today.  Today was L’s first day at the preschool.  We dropped her off (late) and then came home and did some housework.  We now have a nice clean bedroom (you couldn’t see the floor for laundry before) and O and I had some lovely cuddles and spent some time together just laughing at each other.  When she came home, she napped and then seemed a lot calmer than she has been.  She was well-behaved there too.  I think this is going to be good for her.  I’ve booked her in for Mondays and Fridays for the next couple of weeks.  I still have no idea what I’m going to do once our Childminder comes back, but I’ll worry about that when we get to it.  For the moment, I have two days a week which aren’t costing us any extra where I can actually get the house cleaned up and not looking like a crap hole.

I made a wanker sign at some impatient idiot who then pulled up beside me at the traffic lights.  What a dick (me!)  I seriously thought he was going to get out and twat me one.  It’s horrible having to avoid eye contact with the driver in the car next to you knowing that you just called him a name and he’s probably seething and thinking “There’s enough time for me to get out here…” Luckily he didn’t and the whole incident was a bit of a misunderstanding anyway.  I could have talked my way out of it.  Probably.

This evening I had to go out and feed mums cat, who is really very lonely already and it’s only night 1.  I did give her some fussing and made sure everything was clean ready for my bro in the morning, so she should be ok. I’ll go and give her some more love tomorrow.

On the way back, without the kids in the car and driving around in the dusk, I realised that when I start the massage part of my business, this is the time I would be going to work.  And it felt GOOD.  Now I can’t wait for the journey to begin.

Oh Sh*t

I do believe it would make me a bad mother if I didn’t have half a speck of doubt.

Afterall, you hear of these things all the time.

I know it is someone maliciously dealing a career crippling blow.  And they’ve done it well; picking one thing that’s hard to prove and the one thing guaranteed to strike fear into any parent.

I felt sick when I heard.  I still feel a little sick now, knowing there will be questions, and observations and unneccessary interventions when I would just like our little family left alone to try to calculate our next move.

I hope it ends soon. I hope all the ends are tied up, and I hope my little speck is proven beyond any doubt to be just another paranoid parenting moment.

F ing finances

We are in some serious monetary doo doo.

We shouldn’t be.  We should be riding free at the moment with around £400 excess a month.  But for some reason we’re not.  There could be a problem with my bank account, but I doubt it.  The only problem is that I spend too much money on stuff we don’t really need.

Basically, at the moment, I’m on mat leave and we’re only paying child care for one child (don’t even get me started on this). However, in December when I go back to work, we will be paying for two kids.

I already have £243 come out of my account for the childcare vouchers.  My take home is around £614 per month.

I need to pay out another £450 on childcare a month for O…and then £113 on council tax and another £150 on my bills.  Now, even if you’re rubbish at maths (like me) you’ll see that the above will put a large strain on my bank account every month.

Sooo what am I doing…(apart from freaking out)

I’m also trying to budget our food and encourage the purchase of the Sainsburys basic range.  We’ve written a loose menu for a week and I managed to purchase most of what we needed for about £40 so far.

I walk as much as I can to stop burning precious petrol.  With prices rising all over the place, every penny counts.

The only thing I can think to do is to change my hours so that I’m working the same amount of hours that I’m paying for childcare.  At the moment, I work 21 hours a week.  And I pay for 30 hours of childcare.

This will take some thinking about as it will mean more time at work (deep joy).

The Change is about to get bigger.

Friday

I was going to write an angry ranty post about last friday, but…well, you know when you get so pissed off about something you become calm about it? Yeah, that’s happened. So I’m just going to post about how it was another Bad Day.

The wedding meant that she didn’t go to the childminder on Wednesday, but I had arranged for her to go an Thursday instead. Well, she woke up and began lolling and whingeing before she was even dressed. We figured that she would get sent home if we sent her, so we kept her here.

Friday, however, she was back to normal and couldn’t wait to go back to see all the other boys and girls and I wasn’t sure I would be able to tolerate her being home again, so we sent her and I got to enjoy a day with O…

NOT!

O and I were having our afternoon nap when my phone rings. The number came up but there was no name attached to it. However, my heart sank as I’d seen that number before. I Googled it to check. Yep. Childminder.

I tried phoning her mobile and there was no answer, so I waited a minute and phoned the landline back. One of the other ladies answered.

Me: Hi, it’s L’s mum. Whats up?
Her; You’ll have to come and get her.
Me: What’s up with her now?

(I half expected it to be this diarrhea she keeps getting there that doesn’t rear its head at home.)

Her: It’s not her. The Childminder has gone into anaphylactic shock and will need an ambulance.

Oh crap. This was the second shock for the childminder in 7 days.

Me: How long have we got?
Her: it’s just swelling at the moment but in about half an hour her airways will close and we’ll need to call an ambulance. All the children need to go before then.

So, I chucked O in the car and went to pick up the Toddler. This shock was caused by the drugs from the first shock wearing off. If the children weren’t picked up, they would have been turned over to Social Services. Seriously? I don’t know if any of the kids did end up with Social, but that’s a bit extreme. The reason we have to go get our kids if the Childminder goes into shock, even though there are 4 or 5 other people there is that no one else is insured as part of her business to be there. Seems a bit silly from our point of view, but there you go.

Anyway, I got The Toddler home and realised they hadn’t sent her antibiotics. So I phoned the Dr and got the to write another prescription. I changed O’s bum and went to change Madams and …

Hives. A huge red speckled welt all up her leg. I was horrified. I phoned OH who said he would come home as soon as he could and phoned the Drs again to book and appointment. I won’t do a bit about how the phone rang and rang on the appointment line again. Luckily, they let me book an appointment via the enquiries line.

I rushed her up to the surgery. The Dr checked her over and it turned out to be heat rash.

So yeah, all in all, last week wasn’t brilliant!

Poo, sticks, fircones and clothes pegs

Thursday was a complete write off due to the events on Wednesday night.  I don’t really remember much of what happened.  I do know I got some sleep and felt very nauseous.  And O settled very well in the evening and overnight.

Then we slam into Friday, which for me began at 6.30 when O got up for his feed.  I was still in the feed/wind/change cycle when The Toddler came in and I knew there was no chance I would be going back to sleep.

I got up, got her dressed and gave her a minimal breakfast to stop her stealing my food.  No time to shower as I figured I would do that later.  After my morning nap perhaps.  OH took her to the childminder and I plan my morning.  Well, I say plan.  My days mostly consist of trying to get O settled, napping and maybe blogging.  I had a friend coming over at 1ish to chat and relieve me so I could get some no worry sleep and I didn’t have to think too much about what we would have for dinner or rush to make it as she would be eating at the childminders.

WRONG!

At 10:10 I get a phonecall from the Childminder.  This is NEVER a good thing.

Childminder: I know OH said that she’s better but it’s falling out of her again.

Me: SERIOUSLY?! *sigh*

WTF? Thursday she showed no signs of being ill at all (ok, so we weren’t really awake for a lot of it, but still!) and now this again? Rules are rules though and the Childminder is totally within her rights and contract to send The Toddler home if she feels she is unwell.

Because the offending nappy contained a vile green drippy liquid (it did come home with me but I didn’t look.  In fact, because of the refuse collector strike it’s still in our bin cupboard.  Now tell me how that can be hygienic?)

The Childminder suggested I took her to the Drs, especially as she had showed signs of being in pain when trying to pass whatever it was that was causing her to have diarrhoea for the second time in 3 days.  There were concerns that it may be more sinister than a tummy bug.  I’m pretty sure I will discuss the poo incidents at greater length in another post though so I’m not going to make you accidentally stumble into highly descriptive poo territory here.

I called the Drs surgery to get an urgent appointment for her.  Why do they always ask if it’s urgent? If you say yes, they always tell you they don’t have any available appointments anyway.  I managed to persuade them to give me an End of Surgery jobby where you sit and wait until the Dr is available.  I had to be at the clinic by 11.30 to begin my vigil.

So, I dash to pick madam up after packing sustenance, 15 nappies (I’m not kidding, when she has the poos, she has the POOS!), two extra pairs of trousers and a couple of carrier bags for her to sit on.  I once again expected her to be pale, grumpy and lethargic when I got there but instead she bounds up to me smiling.  She doesn’t look like an ill child. Nothing like an ill child in fact.  I don’t get it, but I was glad I had booked the Drs appointment as maybe they would be able to shed some light on her runny bottom.

I drove straight from the Childminders to the Drs, throwing caution to the wind by not putting any protection on my car seats and had to park half a mile from the surgery.  Well, not exactly half a mile away but far enough to piss me off.  It then took me at least 10 minutes to shoehorn everything into the worlds smallest shopping basket and unload two children, one of whom is repeatedly telling me we are going to see the Dr and actually looking quite excited about it.

When we get to the waiting room, I get the forms to register O as a patient (naughty mummy hadn’t had time to do this) and book her in.  There’s a lovely gent sat next to us who she manages to charm to the point where he gets her a pen when failmummy can’t find the crayons I try to carry everywhere.

We get called in and the Dr pokes and prods her belly which makes her cry, takes her temperature and concludes she’s possibly got a tummy bug but everything is normal.  Come back on Monday if she’s still running.

He then hands her a chocolate biscuit.

We go to the shop opposite and come home for lunch.  She consumes a pot of jelly with vigour.

The afternoon starts to creep by and she clearly does not want to be at home watching CBeebies while mummy is pinned to the sofa by a booby monster.  Said booby monster is annoyed because by making him wait for his lunchtime feed (the Dr called her in right as I was getting him out to latch!) and I was starting to go a bit crazy.  After speaking to mum who couldn’t leave work, I decided to take them out for a walk.  Doesn’t matter where.  Just get them out of the house and doing something.

Obviously, before going anywhere, we have to complete the going out routine, which I will one day tell you all about.  However, it’s enough right to now to just know it takes about an hour with me and two from almost ready.  Including other people and from scratch it takes far far longer.

We set off and she’s starts out in the pushchair but she’s so restless I decide to try and get her to burn off some excess energy by walking.  Cue another “Thing I Have No Idea How We are Going To Do” and I put her reins on.  I find that I can cope quite well between her on reins and steering the Phil & Teds.  This is a good thing.

She finds a stick on the ground.  How many mummies let their kids play with sticks now?  Are we too scared to let our children pick these things up? Are germs now more dangerous than when we were kids and would make mud pies and literally eat worms?

She keeps the stick.  The stick is good.  She also partners it with a twig.  She walks along using the stick as a sort of walking crutch and is twiddling the twig round her fingers when she finds another treasure –

A FIRCONE!! And another one and another one and another one and another one! In fact, there are loads of them.  We are in fircone kingdom and she is Queen.  Fircones are MUCH better than sticks and very soon I have to encourage her to pick the best of her small hoard to take home to show Daddy.  She reminds me that Daddy is at work and we pick out the two most beautifully perfect fircones for him.

We then admire the wildlife we spot down the path – the bees, the wasps and the lady walking the small yappy dog.  She didn’t know that I was heading to the park.  A secret park that had more than just a slide. It has seesaws and a swing.

We spent some time playing at the park until all the kids came out of the local school then she went back in the pushchair, we came home and she, thankfully, slept.

Daddy came home, we had dinner and he went to the shop.  he came back with a present for me.  Clothes pegs.

Now, sticks were good, Fircones were better, but 24..yes TWENTY FOUR plastic clothes pegs? yeah right Mummy, you’re never having these. She has a thing for clothes pegs. She calls them “snap snaps”.

She still has half of them in her shopping bag.