I'm stressed. And when I'm stressed, this is what I do. I keep busy.
I need to hire a nanny. My amazing, sweet ( and by sweet I mean old) and patient nanny moved back to her country (read my sob story here) in September and I have been in denial.
My mom had taken over her duties but while my hubby was away, she had just about enough she could take, and told me that she can't keep babysitting for me 2 days a week.
Hubby has decided that he would like to hire someone from his country, the Republic of Georgia because he wants Sophia to speak Georgian (can you believe that is actually a language?). So he made a few calls and yesterday we had a Georgian 'nanny' stop by to speak with us.
Here's a map because I had no idea where/what that was when we met
She is 24 years old, a medical student and has the face of an angel. She came with her mom and Sophia (who has a fear of strangers... and I love it) took instantly to her. I swear Sophia thought we brought her a little playmate!
image: getty images
I was not really involved in the conversation because they were speaking Georgian (je je je... that's a language?) and by they I mean my husband and her mother. I swear that my potential 'nanny' barely said a word! And I call her my potential nanny because I cannot remember her name! Come to think of it, I don't think anyone told me her name.
OK. So, I need you to tell me that this is a horrible mistake! That I should not hire this angel-faced medical student.
My husband and I struggle everyday with our cultural differences. I am from the Dominican Republic. We are loud and happy people. Georgians are very somber and rigid. So why in the HELL would I hire a Georgian angel to care for our child?
can you blame us for being happy people when we are from an island that looks like this?
i stole this picture from my sister's facebook page but she doesn't know i have a blog, so it's all good
My husband gets home about an hour and a half before me (I work 3 days a week) so that means that he is the one that would relieve her of her duties. It's not that I don't trust him but I keep playing the same scenario in my head: Everyday he gets home, talks in his native language to this girl, reminisce about their country and starts to think 'Why am I married to this Dominican biatch when I could be with someone who gets me'?
p.s. Have I mentioned my husband's hot? No?! Well, he is! I married him for his looks, not his personality. But he's mine and I'd like to keep him ;-)