I love Pea. I love him without reservation. He does have his foibles, and for the most part, I love him because of those foibles.
Pea isn’t great at doing things he doesn’t want to do. He’s a fully functioning adult, much more so than I am in many ways, but he is powerfully able to ignore things he worries about, where I stress and problem solve. Pea relies heavily on the “throw money at problems” solution option, which has not usually been in my reach and thus not in my repertoire. Pea is also pretty bad at administrative details.
Case study 1: Pea allowed his passport to expire when we were moving back to Canuckia, discovering this only once we were at the airport. Luckily, his green card sufficed as ID and he got a rush renewal over the Christmas holidays to be able to get back to Hilly Quirky.
Case study #2: Pea got his drivers license one day before his 40th birthday, when I was eight months pregnant. I think he sensed that I was about to lose my mind about it. It meant he did his drivers education course while Spud was a newborn, including evenings out of the house driving and all of his practicing with me with Spud in tow. It meant the earliest he’d be able to drive independently was early August, halfway through his pat leave at home. Pea waited until last week to book his driving exam, and so his appointment is in September. It would have been really nice if he was able to drive while on leave. We’re not quite close enough to libraries and early years centres to walk and not disrupt Spud’s naps. I do groceries at night or while Spud naps on weekends, which is moderately annoying or tiring. If I am being honest though, I sincerely doubt he would have ever driven Spud anywhere independently, because, despite being a reasonably good driver, he still really hates it.
So it is reasonable for me to not credit Pea’s gut feelings about reasonable timelines. Except recently I did, for something pretty enormous, and it may have shot us in the foot.
See, we didn’t get into our daycare for September. I knew this was possible as of April, and we found out it was definite in mid-July. I only registered us for the one: I had priority as a Innovation U. faculty member, and I got on the list before we’d even told Pea’s family we were expecting. At the time it felt presumptuous and rash to assume we’d even have an eight month old child, so I only signed up for the one.
In April, I was told to check in again in late June/early July, but that we were still pretty high on the wait list. I emailed July 3rd, my first day back at work. I got no response in that hectic first week, and emailed again, to three different email addresses, the second week of July. I heard back a definitive “not for September, possibly not til January” on the 18th.
I could have been hedging our bets from April, signing up for various centres or the very good home care system in our region. Pea insisted we could wait and see, and decide later. I agreed, but what was really driving both of our decisions was that we don’t actually WANT to put Spud in someone else’s care. Not a valid reason to avoid finding the best possible option, given we do actually have to do this.
As it stands, we’re a weird, last-minute, very young child to place and I’m getting a lot of (deserved) gentle chastising from various care coordinators.
It is likely to work out. Certainly we will be able to find care for Spud. There is a delightful home care option, but outside of our neighbourhood, so a driving pick-up/drop-off. There are several very promising sounding nannies who have applied to our ad (the old “throw $$ at the problem solution, but also because Spud is still on three naps and that is never going to fly at home care with other kids). We’ll be ok, and Spud will be ok, and we’re not cutting any corners to make it happen, but it feels rushed and very stressful. An interview with the home care spot next week and hopefully with our top three or four nannies, and we’ll have a solution.
But I lost some sleep over this in the past ten days, and I didn’t really need to.