The Valium Chronicles: My Family Hates Me

My family officially hates me.  And, I was only trying to do the RIGHT thing. To be a KIND person.  To SAVE money. To be a GROWNUP.

But apparently, what I did, was ruin their lives, and be the WORST MOTHER EVER!

This is what happened.

My sister has a baby. He’s one of the totally cutest babies ever. He’s one year old, so it was time for her to go back to work.

She suffers, like me, from the Housework Allergy (it must run in the family, although our mother doesn’t have it, so it must have skipped a generation). Therefore, for her back-t0-work plan, she chose to sponsor a nanny as opposed to putting her baby in daycare.  Except, her nanny didn’t arrive in time and the boy went off to daycare anyways.  He promptly got sick a lot, which was very stressful for her, since the baby doesn’t sleep at the best of times.  When he’s sick or teething or even its Monday, his sleep is even more disrupted.   The situation came to a head when had a breakdown one morning after  realizing she hadn’t done laundry in two weeks.   Needless to say, my baby sister was on her last nerve.

She finally heard from the nanny who said she had her interview booked, and she’d be able to come soon. Like really soon.  Sis was ECSTATIC.

Then, the bad news came.  The nanny got declined.  She didn’t have the right credentials. AFTER ALL THAT!!

My sister called me, so upset.  She’s my baby sister.  I’m a fixer.  What did I do?

‘Oh Sister, you can take my nanny.’  I offered this without thinking of the aftershocks that Luisa leaving would have on my life.  All I knew was that I was SAVING THE DAY!

Now, my nanny (well she’s really a housekeeper as there’s nobody to nanny around here) is the goddess of all nannies. No family has ever been taken care of better.  She is far beyond a cure for my housework allergy.  She is MY WIFE.  The downside to being cared for like this, however, is that we have all become a big pile of slobbypant layabouts.

I told my family (This is the point where they started to hate me, if you were wondering when I was going to get to the point):

‘Sara needs Luisa, so Luisa has agreed to go work for her.  We’re all going to pitch in to take care of ourselves.’

My family was not pleased:

‘No way, forget it. Tell her she can’t go.  Who is going to do everything?  And who is going to section my grapefruits for me?’ (The husband)

‘Pleeeeeeze no!!!  I love her. And she makes me BACON every morning.  Plus, the dogs love her. Noooooooooo.’  (Little J)

‘Oh.’  (Diva).  (Then I reminded her that she’d have to pick up after herself now, and help out around the house.) ‘Oh. Are you going to be mean to us now?’  (she’s 17, what did I expect?’)

‘Can I have her room?  ManCave in the BASEMENT!! YESS!! (Bubba) (Ok I guess he doesn’t hate me. But he’s so sweet, he’d never hate me.)

Grrrrr.. Wooof. GGrrrrr (the dogs, who sit at her door and cry all weekend when she’s not there)

Then, as I started to think about it, I realized:

• I’d have to get up and make the kids breakfast and the lunches in the morning.
• I’d have to do the laundry, which includes learning how to use the Soap Nuts. And fold it. And put it away.
• I don’t know where anything goes.
• I don’t even know what the kids like in their lunches.
• I’ll have to clean up after myself when cooking.
• My beds wouldn’t be all fluffy and made and stuff unless I did it myself.