Hard to believe it, but three weeks from this coming Monday, I’ll be back at work. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m fixated on the new plan to work a four-day week, there would be much wailing and gnashing of teeth going on right about now, but I’m actually feeling okay about the whole thing. Given my druthers, as my mother would say, I’d’ruther be independently wealthy and able to stay home with the boys full time. Since that isn’t going to happen, the four-day thing gives me at least a semblance of balance and allows me to enjoy the idea of going out and playing with the grownups again.
I know I haven’t updated at all about our nanny search, but that’s looking quite positive right now, too. Back in November, after some truly horrendous interviews (including my favourite, the young woman who looked at Lucas sitting quietly on the floor and asked, “So, what exactly does he *do* all day?” not once but twice!) we actually found ourselves with three good candidates from which to choose. We ended up selecting someone who has a little less nannying experience but a lot of daycamp and bible camp and daycare experience simply because I got a really good vibe from her personally. She’s sweet and easy to get along with, and seems quite taken with the boys. Yesterday, she came over for a test run with Lucas while I hustled off to the gym for a half-hour, and I came home to her sitting rather stiffly on the couch and looking quite uncomfortable trying to hold her posture while Lucas snored sprawled across her. Way too cute and a very reassuring start!
Since the work-life balance thing looks like it might work out just fine, and the nanny thing looks like it might just work out fine, you’d think I’d be golden. Ha! Not so much. The fly in my ointment is the six-week old transit strike that’s bedevilling the city. Back when the bus drivers walked off the job in early December, I spent many days thanking my lucky stars that the strike happened while I was on maternity leave and not beholden to OC Transpo. February seemed miles away at that point, and I couldn’t conceive of a strike that would leave the city without buses for eight weeks or more.
Those of you who live here know the story and those of you who don’t likely don’t care for the details, but the gist of it is that yesterday the drivers resoundingly rejected the city’s last offer, and they’re now saying that the strike could carry on for weeks if not (gasp) months. Not only do I rely on transit to get from my suburban home to the heart of downtown every day, but our lovely new nanny also relies on transit to get to work. Without buses, I’ll either have to carpool or drive myself, and we’ll have to pick her up and drop her off every day. With me starting as early as I do, we’re likely looking at Beloved having to load all three kids in the car, pick her up, drop everyone off at home, and then drive his usual almost one-hour commute to work while she walks the big boys over to school. What a nightmare!
On the bright side, aside from the ridiculous transit strike, things seem to be falling into place for a rather pleasant transition back to work. *touch wood* I happened to get to see a lot of my colleagues yesterday for a work-social function, and it really was nice to be able to see everyone again. I’m lucky enough to work with some truly great people, and I’ve missed them over the last year. And, right on cue, my 35 minutes of nap time are done and the world’s cutest baby is cooing himself awake upstairs…