Divine Intervention

Let me start this post by proclaiming that since the day I shook the Pope's hand (John Paul II), my life has been blessed, charmed, lucky, whatever you want to call it. (In 1997 while in Rome, G & I stumbled upon a small mass being given by none other than this papal highness - complete with popemobile, but no entourage - he came cruising down the aisle and G shoved me in front so I could shake his hand. I was hoping the experience would bring me up a few notches in G's grandmother's eyes, but alas, I am still referred to as the "convert" of the family.)

At any rate, convert or not, I apparently have the higher authority on my side, generally.Seriously, there have only been minor, minor bumps in the road. Primarily, I feel we live a very charmed life.

This includes the fact that Bea gets to spend copious amounts of time w/ her parents. As parents, we are steadfastly opposed to daycare. I don't give a shit what anyone says, I refuse, refuse, refuse to take Skeetie to a daycare center. Refuse. She gets her socialization from the pug. There is no need to stick her in a grimy room, with snot-nosed little gremlins and let her fend for herself. No freakin' way. Thus, I stayed home w/ Bea until she was 4.5 mo., then worked at home two days a week. George stayed home the other three days with her. Then of course my job dictated that I be in the office full-time, so she started having a babysitter 3 days a week, after a not so great start with her first babysitter, we finally found her current babysitter, Donna. Now, Skeets is horribly spoiled by Donna 3 days a week - and we love it! Donna is like Bea's resident grandma.

However, Donna informed us that she would be going to AZ for 6 weeks beginning in January. Instead of having foresight, which I rarely do, I just kept thinking something would "work out." I have no idea why I thought that would happen without my facilitation, but I did. Maybe denial? I'm not sure why I do these things, but I do. So finally, on January 2, I start to think about the fact that on Jan. 9, Bea will have no babysitter. Wait...Bea will have no babysitter in 7 days. Oh shit. Bea will have no babysitter in a week. "Georrrrgeee!!!!! Did you realize that we have no childcare starting in approximately 7 days???? Did you not think it was important to talk about this with me??? What is wrong with you???? Why didn't you think of something?!! Oh, did I say I was taking care of this? Fine. Point made. Is there anyway you can take work off for about 6 weeks? Why? Ok, fine. I'll try to figure something out."

So, long and short of it is, I start reasearching in-home daycares - i.e., take Bea to someone's house, house takes no more than 6 kids. I quickly find out that there is a reason the good homes have a waiting list. An example, one home agreed to take Skeets. G & I ask if we can come see the home and interview the daycare provider. It was horrific. The house was located behind McDonald's adjacent to a busy street. We go inside and there are grubby little urchins with ratted, matted hair laying around on the floor glued to a T.V. The house smelled like smeared food. Bea clung to me like a Rhesus monkey. The provider, an older woman, asked us to sit down, neither one of us could bring ourselves to sit. So we just stood in the living room. I was too mortified to speak, so George managed to squeak out some pertinent sounding questions - "I see you are licensed, what did you have to do to become licensed with the State?" Her: "I don't know - they just sent me that sticker to put on my door in the mail." Provider informed us they take field trips to McDonald's. Greeaatt...healthy, stimulating, educational field trip.

Meanwhile, there is a little girl about Skeetie's age who is jumping up at me and wildly trying to grab Skeetie's leg. Skeets was still clinging to me for dear life. The little badger then took to tossing a toy at Skeetie for her attention. It took all my self-control not to open up the coat closet next to me and shove her in there. (there is a reason I am a lawyer, not a teacher.) While G was politely "interviewing" the provider I continued to survey the scene and settled upon the provider's husband sitting at the table. He was in his 60's, wearing overalls and unfortunatley had missing teeth. The teeth I do not hold against him, but what freakin' creeped me out was how there was this little girl, about 5, sitting under the table and he was just petting her head. It just made my "mommy sirens" start wailing. After our first babysitter (before Donna) I vowed never to ignore my maternal instincts. So on that note we got the hell out of there. Not once did I put Bea down, not once did Bea want to get down. The woman assured us we would not find childcare any cheaper in Missoula. Clearly, you get what you pay for. We made a break for the car. Once safely belted inside, and on our way to Taco Tuesday to kill our pain with 24 oz Corona's, George looked at me and said, "I feel sick. I can't just leave the light of my life with people we know nothing about." Agreed. But what are we going to do?? "Let's go brainstorm over fish tacos and Coronas." Skeetie agreed and indulged in a black bean quesadilla.

Then, that night the heavens parted and divine intervention occurred. My mom informed me that one of her teacher's sister, who lives in Msla, might be willing to take Bea. I'll refer to her as A.H. Here's the amazing part, my family knows her parents very well. G & I actually bought our house from A.H.'s grandmother's husband, with the help of A.H.'s parents. Further, A.H.'s mom and my mom are very close friends. Finally, during one summer of college A.H. & I worked together. So it's sort of like the Kevin Bacon 7 degrees of separation bit, but at any rate I was extremely hopeful for these reasons: she's smart, educated, from what I hear an excellent mom, good judgment, clean house and best of all, her little boy who's a year older than Bea is very sweet. Amazingly enough, she agreed. A.H. used to work, but is fortunate enought to take a bit of a sabatical to be at home with her son.

We went to her house yesterday to meet her husband and little boy. We are so on the same page. Her house is clean, child-friendly, intellectually-stimulating toys. Her son was wonderful to Bea and Bea had a blast while she was there. A.H. inquired as to whether it would be ok to take Bea to the children's museum for a fieldtrip. Yes! Perfect! G & I had a very nice conversation with A.H. and her husband. It was perfect. We trust her fully & completely with little Skeets. When we left, Sam had given Bea a toy phone to take home. Bea was thrilled.

So today, I took Skeets over there at 8:30. We packed her little Hello Kitty bag and off she went. I took Pwr Skt inside and she never looked back. As I was leaving A.H. said, "feel free to call anytime if you want to check in on Bea." This really put me at ease. Without knowing her extremely well, I believe she is the kind of parent to her son that we are to Bea. I cannot ask for more than that. So, for 6 wks, Bea gets to play with Sam 3 days a week from 8:30 to 1:00, the rest of the time she's with her daddy. That's not so bad if you're 16 months. As for me, I have secretly thanked Pope J.P. II. and whomever else up there facilited this.

Every day is a Bea-utiful day!!