oh dear

Tips for finding a childminder she said. Post your questions here she said.
And the Gods of Taking Down Smug People thought “ha!”

And even though I wasn’t being horribly smug, take me down they did.
Within one week of writing a blog post with tips for finding a childminder, I lost my own.

Our lovely childminder handed her notice in today after eleven months with us.

It’s not that she finally ran out of steam because Clara gets cross when she’s not able to find her tutu or because Emmie gets upset when she has to have Krispies instead of Corn Flakes or because Sam keeps climbing up on the window sill. Honest.

She has a job writing for a newspaper in a language school, and I’m genuinely delighted for her – she’s getting into something that she’s always wanted to do. I’m just devastated for us.

Are you out there Mary P? (image credit criticalcommons)

The kids are going to be inconsolable. Clara in particular is not good with change and once got upset because I didn’t sound as cross as usual when I was rushing them out the door – “you know I don’t like change mum” she said.

Emmie tells me every day that she doesn’t want me to go to work, and doesn’t want Silvia to mind her, but I see the smiling, laughing, chatting that’s going on between those two when I come home each evening so I don’t worry about my dramatic four year old’s protests (too much).

And Sam has just started to say Silvia’s name, and to reach for her and call her back when she goes home in the evening.

Which left me with mixed emotions when it started last week, but leaves me in no doubt that he is attached to our childminder and will, like his sisters, find it a difficult adjustment when she is replaced.

So if anyone has any tips on finding a childminder, I’m open to suggestions….

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3 thoughts on “oh dear”

  1. Oh no! (But I love that Clara knows she doesn’t like change! It’s like when I told Dash I’d read that six was an age when it was hard to make decisions, and weeks later when he was dithering over getting dressed he cast it back up at me – “But you know I can’t make decisions, Mummy!”)

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