Even the best laid plans fail. I returned to work last Monday and by Tuesday evening our babysitter quit; without notice.  Our plan was to have a babysitter come into the home for July to ease Meebs into the transition of being apart from me. Then, in August Meebs would go to traditional daycare.

We had our in-home caregiver lined up, the daughter of a co-worker, complete with experience, references and the ambition to become a pediatrician.

She, let’s call her ‘Sticky Bun’, had been in our home half a dozen times, shadowing me and getting used to Meebs and her routine. They seemed to have a great rapport; but I had a nagging feeling that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. She wasn’t really sure how to handle Meebs when she cried, so I tried to relay the techniques I use to settle her: sing Shoo Fly, distract her by checking out what PorkChop is doing, looking out the backdoor where the deer often graze. I told Sticky Bun that Meebs would be able to sense her hesitation, so she needed to take charge and exude confidence so Meebs would feel secure and cared for. I thought we had established a solid foundation for providing care. I sloughed off my suspicions because I’m not really ok leaving Meebs with anyone, so I figured that was all it was.

Boy, was I wrong.

On Monday Meebs had several meltdowns, calling out for me and wanting nothing to do with Sticky Bun. Daddy ended up coming home from work to settle Meebs and get her down for a nap. Tuesday was even worse. Daddy was stuck in a meeting, so I was left to deal with Sticky Bun’s urgent messages from my place of work, over an hour away. I desperately called a friend, who is Mary Poppins incarnate, British and all, and Meebs absolutely adores her. Meebs collapsed into “Mary’s” arms the moment she walked through the door; she quickly re-established order and stayed until Meebs was fed and smiling. Sticky Bun was able to put Meebs down for her nap without incidence, which I took as a sign that things might be ok. Despite a rough start, I was confident that by the end of the week Meebs and Sticky Bun would find their groove.

But, that night we got an email from Sticky Bun stating that this wasn’t working out for her; it wasn’t as much fun as she thought it was going to be. What? What happened to the young lady who loved children and wanted to be a doctor? How could we have been so wrong about her?

So, what’s a mom to do? Along with the stress of returning to work, I’m left scrambling to find childcare. My confidence is shaken; how can I trust anyone? How can I trust myself? Thankfully, Daddy was able to take some time off to care for Meebs and get us through the week. But it’s now Sunday night and we’re still not sure what we’re going to do until August. We have a band-aid solution to get us through the next few days and after that it’ll be a day-by-day struggle. This is not the staged transition that I had planned; instead Meebs is being shuffled from person to person and place to place. Stay tuned…