When It Rains, It Pours.
The last few weeks have been pretty rubbish if you ask me. I’ve constantly felt like duck (hear me out) – gracefully gliding through life to the naked eye, but frantically flapping underneath the water.
It started when my stepmum got admitted into hospital for a number of issues I won’t disgust you with. But putting it simply, there are issues in some serious places.
Things are moving in the right direction, but we don’t know when she’ll be home or what the circumstances will be when she does come home. It’s hit everyone really hard.
That’s raindrop number one.
Number two leads on from number one in that our childcare arrangements have now subsequently changed.
T goes to nursery three days a week in the afternoon. I drop him off and my mum picks him up, does his tea, and then Sharon picks him up an hour later.
With hospital visits, my mum (quite understandably) can’t do pick ups which means Sharon is now having to get up at 4:30 to catch a 5:30 bus to start work at 6:30 so that she can finish work early to pick him up. Ouch.
To make matters worse, Sharon was then sick last week during a major project, so I had to leave work for an hour, pick T up, and then go back to work.
Thank god for understanding bosses!
Although it works, our current set up can only be temporary as Sharon’s boss isn’t keen on the hours due to what her role entails – so we have to work something out.
I need to work full time to pay for childcare (go figure) and bills, so I can’t cut any hours down to work around pick ups. I then worked out that with the weekends I already work we only have 26 days a year when we’re together as a family that isn’t annual leave. 26. So I can’t add any more weekend work and take from the week. Unless I never want to see my family again.
This is likely going to go on for several weeks which leaves us with only two viable options.
1) Look for a childminder for the hour in between nursery finishing and Sharon picking him up.
2) Move T to a nursery to closer to Sharon’s work.
I don’t even want to consider number 2 as T is thriving, however number 1 will likely leave me with zero cash. But then with 26 days of family time it’s unlikely I’ll need it anyway!
I can’t change my shifts so I work 8-5 (and therefore do nursery drop off and pick ups) as that’ll mean more cash to nursery as T would then be doing all day as apposed to just the afternoon. Although tiring, my 1-10pm shifts work financially.
So the next few weeks are going to see us looking at major changes to everything. From finances to childcare. Not a great time to also think about weaning T off the boob as well, eh? Oh! And hello to our newest addition; the 18 month sleep regression.
Even if my stepmum returns home, I think this is a sign that maybe we need to look at alternative childcare arrangements anyway. My mum is *cough* years old after all – she’s already raised her own two kids and has health issues of her own. I think she deserves a rest.
What this post serves, I don’t know. It’s certainly not a way a moan about family. Far from it. This week has seen family come together and “teams” strengthen.
I’m so lucky to have Sharon as my wife. Without a second thought she’s changed things at work alongside me. She’s still helped with the night wakings (don’t ask) even though she’s getting up at ridiculous o’clock. She’s just been amazing, even though it could quite easily go down the pan with how tired we both are.
Our routine is royally out the window.
Shit happens. It really does. We’re not the only ones affected in all of this, and none of this is anyone’s fault.
But when it rains, it really does pour.