Tag Archives: mother’s helper

My New Job

The youngest wearing my glasses.  She's the cutest thing EVER.

The youngest (#7) wearing my glasses. She’s the cutest thing EVER.

I got a new job.  I started this new job 2 weeks ago.  I totally forgot to tell you.  Well, I shared a little something that my new boss posted on Facebook, but if you don’t follow me on Facebook or don’t even have Facebook, then you didn’t or don’t know about my new status (you can read her blog posting about it here).

What is this new job, you ask?  This new job of mine is that of Personal Assistant.  I was hired to help with her kids, chores around the house, errands and admin work for her blog when needed.  My new boss is actually a friend of mine.  Should I call her Briend?  Or Bross?  It’s strange.  Calling her “boss.”  Working for her isn’t strange.  Not strange at all.  In fact, it’s really awesome.

Anyway, basically she needed a personal assistant and since I had quit My Retail Job a couple of months back, I was available.  I only work for her 20 hours a week.  It’s perfect.  I still have time for my things.  Like my own blog, writing, housecleaning (sometimes) and everything else.  And I make more money than I did when I was working My Retail Job.  Which isn’t completely unbelievable because retail pays crap.

My Briend is totally cool and funny and has a lot on her plate.  She is mother to 7 kids, has a blog (I already said that), runs an online fitness course, coaches swim and started a furniture refinishing business (I’m pretty sure I’m missing something.  Let’s just say no moss grows under her feet.).  How does this woman even have time to wipe?  No, I don’t do that.  Well, unless one of her small children has an accident, then I might but that’s different.

In a nutshell, her current (or the one before me) assistant didn’t work out.  In a conversation we were having, she casually mentioned that she was going to fire her but she was not looking forward to starting the whole process of finding someone else all over again.  Suddenly, I heard myself say, “I’ll do it.”  Like she was just going to say, “you’re hired.”  Fortunately for me, that is what she said.  This was a Thursday.  I started the job on Monday.  That’s how fast it happened.

I was already going over there every Thursday morning to give her a hand with laundry, dinner and whatever she needed.  So I already knew her children.  And where she keeps her Tupperware.  I love her children by the way.  They are really quite awesome.  So, this should be a snap.  No problem.

My first week, my friend-boss was sick.  Really sick.  So, I spent the first few days helping her to keep the kids out of her hair.  I was thrown in.  No learning curve.  No nothing.  Well, except for what I learned on Thursdays but I am a mother so I could do this.  Sure, I only have experience with one at a time, not 5 (the two oldest are teenagers so I don’t include them because they don’t scare me.  Although, they should.  Because they are teenagers.).  There is a beautiful inground pool at my friend-boss’ house.  They recently had it uncovered so it could be repaired.  It was a nice day on that first Wednesday and the kids wanted to go out and play on the swing set.  Sure.  No problem.

I should probably mention that my friend-boss is pretty laid back when it comes to kids.  She’s a former teacher and an awesome mother, and she isn’t uptight or neurotic.  Like I was with my own.  She lets them play without looking in on them every 3 seconds.  It’s great.  It actually reminds me of my own childhood when things were a bit more carefree.  She’s a perfect mix of protective and attentive without being overbearing.

One of the things that bothered her about her previous employee was that she was uptight.  Up the kids’ butts every second.  This woman didn’t know how to balance keeping an eye on the kids and do other things at the same time.  She became a babysitter.  She did not want a babysitter.  Sure, she needed help with the kids a bit, but not a full-on babysitter.  So, when they wanted to play outside, my bross said from her sick bed, “just make sure they don’t go in the pool.”  No problem.

Shit.  Okay, what do I do?  I had things to do in the house.  My Fross was in bed all but dying.  And 5 of her children ranging in ages 2-8 were outside playing in the backyard.  They also happen to live on a busy road.  With no fence.  I know the kids know better.  I know they have been taught to stay far, far away from the road.  Still.  I was a friggin’ nervous wreck.  But I had to be a nervous wreck without showing it because I didn’t want her to get annoyed at me.  No problem.

Every 3 minutes, I went out on the deck and counted heads.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  1, 2, 3, 4…Oh God.  I threw on my shoes and ran outside.  “Where’s Number 7?” (My friend-boss refers to her children as numbers instead of names on her blog.)  Number 4 did a huge intake of air, covered her mouth and said, “Oh no, I FORGOT ABOUT HER!!!”  I immediately got that butt-pucker-that-makes-me-feel-like-I’m-gonna-poop-when-I-get-nervous feeling.  I had visions of Number 7 toddling along the busy road.  I lost all composure.  I am not always great in a crisis when it involves children.  (I lost my best friend’s 2 year old when I was watching her kids while this friend was in the hospital recovering from thyroid cancer.  Do you see a pattern with 2 year olds?  This may be a problem.)

Should I keep you in suspense?  Nah.  Everything was just fine.  I went out the back door, she went in the front door and it was as simple as just not crossing paths.  Phew.  My butt unpuckered.  All was well.  I lost another 10 years off my life.  But I didn’t have to break the news to my poor, sick Fross that her youngest was half-way to the next town.

Aside from that little incident, everything is great.  I’m having a good time at my new job.  I mean, come on.  I work with a friend, we can bitch and moan while I work.  Damn, if there weren’t a million children in the house at any given time, it would be the perfect opportunity to pop open a bottle of wine.  But drinking on the job with children about probably isn’t a good idea, is it?  Yeah, I didn’t think so.

So, like My Retail Job except only a million times more pleasant, I’m sure I will have stories to regal you with.  So stay tuned.  Hopefully, I won’t lose another child.  But I’m sure I will lose more years and gain more grays.  Whatever.  It’s fine.  It’s bound to happen anyway.