This past Monday, I was supposed to go out with friends, for the first time since Raphaela was born I was going to have night out with grown ups, and even stay out late. Couldn't find a baby sitter, though I went through my enitre A-list. Instead I stayed home and stared at the floor, and went to bed early.
Yesterday, when I collected Raphaela from Gan, they told me in a cheery voice, "Your baby is sick." After she had woken up from her afternoon nap, she had a mild fever and was generally miserable. "That's not our Raphaela," they all said, as she sat on the floor, nose running and crying. Immediately when I got home, I started calling around to my regular sitters, to arrange for coverage for work the next day. I went through my A-list and my B-list; I posted on facebook and on-line, and you could hear the crickets chirping.
I did finally get a committment from one woman who has never actually worked with Raphaela, but whom I interviewed several months ago. Not my first and ideal choice, but since she will be watching her in my home, I am less concerned as I am on-site and readily available.
I wanted this work week to be particularly full and efficient, as it seems that next week they may be resuming the construction underneath my apartment, and I will have to rearrange my entire life during the period involving heavy and noisy labour.
As well, I now must cancel our weekend plans (again!) with Savta Shira. I was eagerly anticipating a Shabbat with family, 36 hours where I did not have to think about cooking, surrounded by people who love both of us and would want to entertain Raphaela.
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