The Help

Worth the Wait...and worth staying home with...

A funny thing happened to me last week. I found myself having not one but, multiple conversations on how hard it was to find good help. I had spent the previous week interviewing cleaner/nanny combos and it seemed like they came and went through our tiny little apartment faster than commuters passing through Grand Central. I wasn't happy with any of them. There was one whose mouth hung open like a cod fish staring blankly into space. I later found out that she was "watching the child" one woman had Charlie so bundled up I thought she might pass out from heat stroke. All seemed to agree I was a crap mother and didn't know what I was doing after I declined the remedy of sugar water or putting flour in the bottle to help Charlie sleep.

None of them cleaned all that well though, I will admit our apartment seems to be overflowing with baby gear, school books, papers that seemed to have reproduced and exercise equipment that making heads or tails of this clutter would be a bit daunting. However that didn't change the fact that I caught myself sounding like a 1950's southern housewife complaining about "the help." I recently read that book. I had to after my Mississippi raised grandmother read it and proclaimed it a "pack of lies"...I knew A) that there had to be some truth in this book B) Hilly and my grandmother are cut from the same cloth.

I on the other hand feel a little bit like the white trash character whose maid thinks she is insane. Her inability to get out of her sweats until ten minutes before her husband gets home, her unorganized household and her brassy hair are all something I can identify with. Even with a maid coming in, my house is still a mess, I need my highlights retouched and Charlie and I are often in our pajamas until well, it's time to put them on again.

I have turned into a housewife without any of the housewife skills. At the moment I barely cook, the bed gets made usually as we are about to get back in it, I don't iron so my husband goes around rumpled looking, most of my clothes have a little bit of spit up on them and I had no idea what was happening in Egypt for about five days . I have to google the headlines before we go out so I can converse about something other than how hard it is to find good help and how adorable my child is.

I've been debating taking on a project at the University which would have me out of my pj's and back into a world that doesn't revolve around nappy changes, play dates and searching for the perfect maid. But I think I'm happy here...I may be crap at being a housewife and I know my career will be short lived but I'm just not ready to leave my daughter or my pj's.

A day at the Beach

Snoozing on BBC beach and then a little torture for her parents benefit.  The first I imagine of many...Poor Baby she may need that thumb to deal with her pesky parents.

It takes a Village...and then some

One of our last nights out before Charlie's arrival

It may take a village to raise a child but it took an island, a global internet community and several nights out to assure the parents that they could in fact raise this baby, and that they would have an arsenal of village elders as back up when they ran into trouble. The closer it came to Charlie's arrival the more nervous I could see my husband getting. The question "will I be a good father" was asked so many times that it became a running joke on the island.  The culmination of these fears reached their peak around month 8 when what was to be a last romantic night out before baby ended with me going home and John fumbling out of the passenger side of our car (shockingly the drivers side door stopped working) in Keith in Suzie's driveway clutching two bottles of wine and spending til the wee hours of the night being reassured that he/we could in fact do this parent thing. The next day I got a phone call "the poor buggers terrified." I thought well join the club...It seems men don't quite grasp that this baby is actually coming and their life is changing til the final stretch. In fact I am not sure they really comprehend that a baby is coming til they hold their baby in their arms for the first time.

Charlie 11 days old...we can do this

I spent 9 months worrying and stewing about where we would put a child in our tiny one room apartment. I worried about putting the baby in a two door car, also known as the unsafest car on the planet, and I worried about mosquitos and had nets sent from Malawi. During this time John acted like I was a little bit crazy and a lot a bit neurotic and told me babies come every day...Basically he implied I was being "too American."

What I realized the second Charlie came into the world was everything I had spent the last nine months worrying about and then resigning myself to the fact that we'll shove our child in a corner, we'll drive extra slowly in the unsafe car and really, Dengue fever is only bad in August, was a total waste of time. The minute Charlie entered the world John was worrying about where we would put her, he proclaimed we could not have her in the car as it had no brakes (that I did not know) and the next thing I knew he was buying the most expensive baby monitor on the market that monitors breathing and may actually raise your child for you.  

When we started the hospital discharge process and we realized that they were actually letting us take home baby Charlie without a test, an instruction manual and nothing more than a handful of diapers and some swaddling cloths we looked at each other and thought ok here comes the test can we do this??? Suprisingly we could and it was a lot more natural than either one of us thought it would be, but I don't think it would have been such a smooth transition had we not had our village as back up.

Chief elder was my mother who fed us, did loads and loads of laundry held Charlie in the wee hours of the morning and took care of her baby girl and mine. Four weeks passed way too fast and I still miss her.

Mom with her two grandbabies

John's parents sent love and encouragement from Malawi and their joy at having a granddaugther kept us going in those early days that are a bit tough.

Our siblings were so sweet and supportive skyping, visiting and my baby brother was there when Charlie was born. Making her arrival even more special.

Cousins Grady Shake and Charlie Catherine

Charlie was so fortunate to have well wishers on several continents sending messages, friends from NYC traveling to see her at just a few days old and her grandad driving from Georgia to cuddle her.

The two Katherine/Catherines

Aunt Shannon and future hubbie Baby Colin

We hit the jackpot with Charlie's pediatrician. She absolutley loves him as do we. What a rare treat to find a pediatrician who keeps in touch via e-mail and skype and had us over for dinner on our last night in the States. I don't know what could be better than having your four week old checked by a professional at his home the night before you embark on a LONG journey back to Grenada. Our village has a medicine man and we are so grateful!

Arriving back to our little island community we were met by our island family who came out on a Sunday to celebrate Charlies arrival.

Charlie's even been welcomed to Church and Highland Fling II has a new member!

Long Day at Sea

Thanks to all our family and friends who assured us along the way that we could do this and now that we've got our sweet baby are on standby in case we need you. Charlie is a lucky girl and her parents though flawed and fumbling have done one thing right. We've surrounded ourselves with a strong village to guide us along the way.