I think I might take the plunge and get myself a mother's helper occasionally for some weekends.
Dave works almost every Saturday and Sunday. He usually has a day off during the week, but we are doing school work then. I have entertained the thought of shifting some schooling to Saturday and leaving his day off (whatever day that might be) free during the week, but I think the children would mutiny. They have imbibed deeply on the idea that Saturday is a day off.
When the weather is decent, the children leave the house on Saturday as early as I will let them go. Then it is just me and Marian. Marian is at an age where starting big projects with her around is not wise. She likes to "help." I do not have the temperament to have "help" with tasks I am trying to figure out on the fly. She can help me unload the dishwasher. She can help me with the laundry. She cannot help me sort papers or clean out closets or reorganize parts of the kitchen or I will lose my mind.
Marian and I bop around the house. I snatch at chores here and there. She climbs onto surfaces where she does not belong. I scroll the digital landscape. The Internet has been abandoned for the time being. The usual friendly people available for chatting are off having a weekend. I hit refresh.
It isn't that I don't have anything to do. I just haven't figured out how to do them with Marian in tow. I've discovered I'm not that great with toddlers. I don't have the mental energy to keep up with her and also do other things.
So Dave is at work, the big kids are outside, nobody is in the digital public square, and a pile of work lies tantalizingly just out of reach as I pull the stool out of Marian's grasp for the five hundredth time that day. I think the time for a little outside help may have arrived.
NB: It's a short person hack to always have a stool within easy reach to climb up to all the things regular people can reach. It's also a boon to the toddler who uses it for the same purpose.
My toddler moves her high chair (wooden one with cage on top, like at restaurants) to whatever she "needs" to reach (eg chocolate chips in the baking cupboard), climbs up the front like a ladder, and onto the counter. The 4yo is the one who uses the folding kitchen stool (I'm relatively tall, and still need it for the top cupboards) to get to her "finds" (last year's hard candies, now cleared out thanks to her prompting, the sugar cannister....) And the 4yo is teaching the 2yo sidekick her craft.... :) For a while, I could get away with plopping the 2yo on the counter, with her legs dangling down reminding her of her perilous position, and then do whatever-it-was while she watched and balanced and didn't try to move around. Now she thinks it's a place to start from.
Post a Comment