The nanny is here. Today is her first day and she’s right over there
on the other side of the room. She’s playing with my child. Puzzles,
actually. He’s laughing. I’m supposed to be working. And blogging about
something else. Something totally different. I guess I’ll just post
that one later.
I told myself that the minute the
sitter showed up I would leave. Work on the book. Maybe even get a
massage. I’ve had a 90-minute gift-certificate for weeks in the flap of
my wallet and I haven’t used it yet. It’s been almost three years
since my last real massage and forever since I was playing hooky on a
SAHM day. Which is why she’s here.
On the other
hand, maybe I should stay. Maybe I’ll just work from the desk in
my house because Archer seems occupied and he’s not distracting me
No. I’m not distracted at all. Him, over there. Me, over here. Working. Yes, working.
I remind myself to focus. You’re paying for this. Use it wisely. It’s a different kind of pressure but still pressure. A new window of work time. Make it happen, Rebecca. Work well and make this worth the money and the time away. Get it done or at the least, have some good old-fashioned alone-time.
I want to leave but maybe I should wait a few days so that Archer gets used to the nanny and I can show her all of the things he likes to eat and how he’ll want to sit in her lap facing her with his legs around her waist when they swing together at the park and how when it’s cold he’ll wear a hat but not when it’s hot and that his favorite lunchtime meal is a quesadilla with avocado and when he’s grumpy, a rice cake helps. And in every pocket of every one of my purses there is a back-up binky.
I’m acting like a real puss-in-boots and I know that. And I wonder why it matters now? Is it because there is another woman in my home taking care of my child? Is it some kind of instinctual thing? Should I spray my scent on Archer’s crib? Would that make me feel better? Marc Jacobs all over Archer and his stuff so he smells like me? Will that make it easier to take off and be alone?
It’s not that I don’t trust her. On the contrary. I think she’s delightful and I’m a very trusting person. I like people right away or I don’t like them. I’m very perceptive, especially when it comes to my child. I think most mothers are.
“I think I’m going to go in a minute,” I finally say.
“Okay. Whenever. We’re good without you…”
“Cool,” I say. But maybe that’s part of the problem. It’s a little bit scary when the people you love the most are good without you.