The dilemma of hired help

I’ve been getting a lot of people asking me how I’m going to take care of two kids on my own without any help after Kirsten in born. I’d like to say that I’ve got it all worked out, but honestly, I have no idea. I’ve tossed and turned in bed for nights going through the various permutations of feeding times, nappy changes, screaming fits, and I still don’t have an answer. All I can say is I’m prepared for a lot of mayhem and screaming.

It does help that Tru is a relatively fuss-free kid and at 12 months, he’s practically self-sufficient. He’ll play with his toys and sleep on his own, so that will allow me some time to take care of the little one. And for the first two weeks postpartum, Superdad has offered to clear his schedule to help out at home while I recuperate.

All the people I’ve consulted all suggest the same thing, which is hiring full-time help to keep an eye on one kid or do the chores while I get some rest. Sounds fantastic in theory, but I’m reluctant to have a stranger around in my house all the time.

For the most part, I’m a fiercely private person. I mean, I love having people over for parties and gatherings, but when the party’s over, it’s time to clear out. My home is like my own little private domain, where I can let down my hair, put on green slob on my face and look like the bride of Chucky. But with someone around 24/7, I’ve got to be cordial, make sure I look decent and be on my toes all the time. Where’s the fun in that?

And that’s assuming I get a helper who’s a godsend. I’ve heard all sorts of horror stories about maids from hell that totally freaked my out. Here’s probably a good time to tell you about Jackie, our first experience with a live-in help. Back then, I was still considering childcare options for Tru, so we decided to hire someone to watch him while we were at work. Big mistake.

Despite being highly recommended (by the scumbag agency – I hope they go bankrupt), she managed to drive us up the wall within 8 days. She’d eat on our bed when we were out, turn on the air-conditioning in her room all day, scowl at Tru all the time and looked like she was going to poison our food. By the 8th day, we had to send her packing just so I wouldn’t lose my sanity at home. After the nightmare, I decided no one else was going to look after my kid but me.

Understandably, I’m reluctant to go through the ordeal again, and I’d rather be a little frazzled running after 2 crazy kids than make headlines on the 6 o’clock news. (i.e. Woman dies at the hands of a psychotic maid)

At least, that’s the plan for now. Unless I totally cave after 3 days and start screaming for help.