I'm going to whine today. Pathetic, selfish, idiotic, self absorbed whining.
*disclaimer* I know that I am blessed, lucky, gifted, fortunate, and have everything I could want for in life. I am fully aware that due only to who my parents are I am given a passport that entitles me to a life of luxury that most of the word only dreams about. I know, that on a global scale, my problems are totally insignificant. I am blessed with the best and greatest Husband a girl could ever ask for, he is kind, funny, handsome, generous to a fault, and my perfect partner in life. I know I just need to suck it in, and get on with things. */disclaimer*
But here is the thing. I Really, Really, Really hate having a nanny. I am absolutely astonished that I am playing someone else to raise my child for me. We got this wonderful woman to free up my time so I could return to my new, post-baby career. With Suburban Infant safely looked after I can continue to be a free wheeling, hard drinking, skinny, money earning, interesting, Non-mommy, type of person. IE; the woman my husband married. I do not want to morph into one of those gossipy, vapid, bored women in sweatpants.
Suburban infant is small, and needs constant feeding. this means constant Interruptions throughout the day, and that I really can't leave the house for more than a few hours at a time. Each interruption features ten minutes of excruciatingly boring small talk with the Nanny, thirty minutes of nursing, a nappy change, a cuddle, and another ten minutes of small talk. Repeat every two hours.
My leash has been somewhat lengthened because we are giving the girl cereal (which, according to the nice folks at the WHO shouldn't be happening for another two months Minimum). When she eats the cereal, I can be away for four hours at a time.
I don't know how well the cereal is working out though... As I type, the Nanny and housemaid are both in the kitchen singing, clapping, shaking rattles and attempting to feed my shrieking daughter some porridge. Every time they start to get a bite in her, Nanny swoops in and wipes her mouth and neck (feeding is messy business) and the girl begins to shriek again.
How fucking hard it it to realise that maybe they should just focus on quietly feeding the baby, and leave the table manners for later? Babies, as far as I am aware, are washable...
While I'm at it, I wish they would change her nappy more often and stop encouraging her to sleep all day long. I also wish the Nanny would stop telling me how to raise my daughter, stop suggesting that I should get her infant ears pierced, and stop answering my questions with another question. And buy a fucking watch so when I ask you what time she was last fed, you can give me an answer less vague than "some time ago..."
I hate that other people get my daughter during her best hours each day. I hate feeling like a baby feeding machine / fuel pump. Interrupt work, attach crying baby to nipple, feed baby, hand back pleasant and happy baby to be enjoyed / stared at until the next time it cries.
I hate leaving her at home when I am away, because I have no idea how things go when I am away. Apparently all is perfect, but I doubt anyone would tell me if her hair was on fire. As a control freak, it's almost more than I can handle.
Here's to suburban throwing herself a pity party of epic proportions. Normal services to resume tomorrow.