For the past few months I spent many sleepless nights juggling between two options: resigning from my job to take care of my kids and getting a babysitter. The former seemed more doable than the latter. But thanks to my ever caring apa, he finally found one babysitter for me.
Whenever I called up my friends and relatives spread around the nook and corner of our country, they would often say,"It's easier to find a stepmom for your kids than a babysitter!" Might have been a joke of a lifetime for them but to me it fueled my sleeplessness more than ever.So, when my apa called up to tell me about a class six dropout who wanted to first visit me to make her decision to come to work for me, it was like blessing sent straight from God's chamber.
The girl came.I thought it was supposed to be other way round, the employee was checking out the employer. But I was so much in need of this girl that I would have gone on my knees to plead her approval. Thanks to my apa, she agreed. But there was a clause to that agreement, she would stay with me for six months and choose to continue working for me only if she finds my household favorable for her. I agreed to all her terms and conditions like any desperate working mother would do.
With that like I said, finally! Now I've a babysitter! Whew! sounds like a huge pressure has been shifted away from my weary brain.
But now that she has officially started living with us, I feel more pressure weights on my shoulder than ever before. To begin with she knows nothing about childcare or cooking. So I spent most of the time running around my kids while she sits in her room, all alone, as if trying to fit in with the furniture around my house. While I still continue with the task of taking care of my kids, I've to frequently call out to her and make pleasant chit-chat so that she is not bored! lest she decide to go back home!and not to forget, I do the cooking too while she stands like a flagpole near the stove.
Every time, she comes face to face with me,she sighs and says," I don't like this place." and I've to play the clown to make her smile. I tell her funny tales to make her laugh. I make variety of dishes to please her palate. She tells me she has never seen some of the dishes I make and instead of being thankful that I am trying to make her feel at home, she throws another deep sigh and adds," I don't like this place!" ( Now I can't ask the government to place me in Thimphu, where my babysitter is gonna enjoy her stay!Sigh!)
Two days from now, I've to return to my workplace and I worry how this girl will do? and that means I would be further bent under the pressure of worrying about my kids being left with a girl who doesn't see anything when BBS is on. I wonder whether she will change the diaper of my lil kiddo in time so that he doesn't get daiper rash. I worry that my lil girl might go hungry because she needs constant coaxing to finish her food. I worry that added to my work pressure I have to worry about my kids and more than all I worry that this girl will continue to say she doesn't like this place and leave us despite the fact that we pay her equivalent to the NWF's wage with free fooding, clothing and shelter (and extra care).
Every night as I go to bed, I feel the humming pain on one side of my head from the stress of taking care of a household with added pressure of ensuring my babysitter feels at home in my house and I know I'll continue to worry what's she gonna decide at the end of six months. Am I not buying this extra headache at the cost of my own sanity? I wonder!
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