Life has a funny way of kicking you in the face sometimes. And then knocking you to the ground, jumping up and down on your torso, and laughing while you try to scramble to your feet.
I blogged yesterday — literally yesterday — about how I thought we’d finally solved our ongoing problems of How The Heck Am I Supposed to Work With Two Little Kids Underfoot?
As of Tuesday, we’d started testing the idea of the kids going to the babysitter’s two days a week, rather than just one.
I wrote about how much work I was able to get done, how I could schedule much lighter workdays on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays — knowing I had all day Tuesday and Thursday to work in peace and quiet.
And then … then … capping off a spectacularly bad 24 hours, the babysitter (whom the kids adore) broke the news to me this morning.
She is not taking kids in any more, as of two weeks from today. She will be working a regular, out-of-the-home job, and no amount of my tears will change it (I added that last part).
*slumps to the floor*
*worries about her career*
*hits “Publish” and tries to resume breathing*