The Hustle and the Babysitters that made it happen pt 2

It has taken me a really long time to write this part of the book. It wasn’t til recently did I realize that I can’t keep it in the same format of the first half of this book. My memory of THIS part of our lives is very fuzzy on the actual day to day. What stands out is the times I was almost fired or did get fired from a job. I was so deep in survival mode at that time, I wasn’t processing fully. My anxiety forced out some of my memories. Years later trying to write about it, only the super stressed out moments are very clear. How unfortunate that I can’t remember all the calm, non dramatic simple moments. The calm, non dramatic simple moments that I do remember are kind of my anchor. They remind me that no matter how desperate I was for a damn break from hunger, exhaustion and negative bank accounts I made everyday an adventure for him. There was always a quick park play or Jamba Juice or pizza slice or book purchase from Barnes & Nobles or the Scholastics store. There were lots of smiles and giggles and bubbles and Thomas the train rides the 1 train moments. The ones I do remember have become so much more precious to me.

Let me tell you about the babysitter we met on the train
We actually met Annie for the 1st time in our old neighborhood at the laundromat. She saw me struggling with a baby, a huge ass pile of laundry and offered to help. In our old neighborhood we lived hella far from the laundromat. Like a 10 min walk if you’re a regular person carrying a backpack. But if you were trying to balance a huge bag of laundry on a stroller with a small child in it, it was more like a 20 minute walk. And it was UP HILL on the way to. I just realized I have the built in Dad joke. You know the one about walking to school, in the snow, with no shoes, uphill, for 2 hours. Ha! Yay me! Anyways getting to this laundromat was hell. Which is why I always waited so long to go. But when I wait so long then the bag was like 12 lbs all on it’s own. Eventually I realized that I needed to just carry the small child, diaper bag, snacks and toys and put the laundry in the big grocery cart and journey onward. It did make the walk over better. The catch was that when we got to the laundromat I couldn’t place the Dude in the stroller with snacks and toys and let him be. So Annie saw us there struggling one day and offered to help. She held him while I loaded the washers and dryers. A Godsend that day. Who knew that months later, after we moved out of that neighborhood we would see her on the train! We talked about how we were both Performing Artists and had mutual friends. I don't know what brought our conversation to the fact that I needed a babysitter, but there we were like a few days later and I was dropping him off at her house. Which was out of the way from our house to my job. But I didn’t care. I can’t remember what job it was for. I want to say it was when I was working at the dance shoe store. It must have been. It was the first full time job I was able to get after being fired from the day spa because of the flaky babysitter. Whenever it was, she was a Godsend. When Dude was with her I never really worried. I mean every parent has some worry when your kids are not in your presence. But it was a superficial worry. She was more on top of things than I was. Making sure I pumped enough milk, making sure he had homemade food in between bottles. She was throwing DOWN in the kitchen and would occasionally send us home with a plate of food for me too. I don't know if she knew there wasn’t much in our fridge, but those plates were everything. Busting out the eucalyptus oil when he seemed congested. I mean she was another version of Mama D. He was well taken care of. Which made it easier for me to work. Not having to check in to make sure the babysitter is doing what’s needed takes a shit load off your shoulders. Especially when work is a constant slap in the face. I don't know why I thought it would be a great idea to work at a dance shoe store. Especially the store that does the majority of all the broadway shows. Every day watching friends, former colleagues, former classmates all come in to be fitted for shoes for the next show they just booked was like getting kicked while I was down. And not from anyone’s doing except my own. It was a daily reminder to me that I WASN’T dancing professionally anymore. I wasn’t on anyone’s radar to be called in for a gig. In my head I was out of shape, unhappy, barely surviving, raggedy looking, and poor while everyone coming in looked well put together, happy, financially stable, thriving and following their dreams. Even though I enjoyed my job and I loved learning about the process of manufacturing fashion, it was a hard pill to swallow everyday when someone I knew came in and asked what I was up to. Just another thing I held in, like most postpartum moms. But back to Annie. The only time I ever felt stressed was when it was pick up time, because I knew our commute home was long. There was a long walk from her house to public transportation. Multiple transfers until we made it home. I just wanted to get home, sit down, play with my kid and sleep. There were a few times I sprung for a cab either to or from her home. Not many. Not as many as I would have liked. But a few. Then came the dreaded day she booked a gig and could no longer watch the Dude. I was happy she got the gig. Because she was and still is, a very talented actress. Part of me was a little envious because I wanted to book a gig too. But the anxiety of needing to find a babysitter to keep working a job that constantly reminds me I aint shit was the daily winner of emotions. Scrambling to find someone was the bane of my existence. I would literally call and email everyone I could. Even if the majority of people were not available, I would still head to work on the off chance that 1 of the 2 people that never responded would actually be able to watch him. There were 3 days in a row that I showed up for work and didn't have anyone to watch him. I pretended the babysitter flaked on me. In actuality, I didn’t have a babysitter. No one could watch him. I knew for sure that the first day I did that I was going to get fired. Luckily my boss was somewhat understanding. I mean it was a very small store with multiple people working. So someone could do sales and register and answer emails if needed. There’s no way that my kid could be there without it being quite obvious to all the customers that come in. So on those days he would send me to do inventory and then send me home when it was complete as there was nothing he could do with me and a baby. Eventually a friend sent me Cat. She lived close to the train line of my job. So it was easy to get to her house from work. Still a trek to get home as I had to go 4 stops the opposite direction of our apt to get on the right train that went to our stop. But at least there was no long walk to get to and fro. She had two fluffy cats that the Dude loved to play with. Her place was clean and it put me at ease while at work. Here’s the thing about having talented Performing Artists as babysitters. Their schedules have pockets of time that work for you when you are working multiple part time jobs. But when they book a gig, you lose them instantly. She did refer me to a friend that she knew was in between shows. He was okay. But my gut said you need to find someone else quickly. I don’t know what it was about him. There was this uneasy feeling I had. But could I afford to lose this job because I was without child care…again? Sure in the hell not! So I asked for pictures throughout the day, so that I could know my kid was okay. While I agonized through the day feeling like I picked a job over my kids safety, the pictures brought about a shallow comfort. Otherwise I couldn't focus at work. Between praying to our Ancestors and Guardians and Divine that nothing would happen to my kid and my brain playing the most Oscar worthy dramatic scenes of what could possibly happen all day, I couldn’t focus on sales, inventory and email correspondence. I mean he was a nice guy. But something didn't sit well. He watched the Dude for 2 weeks before my Mom found one of her college students at my alma mater to step in. The longest fucking 2 weeks of my life! The Dude ended up bouncing between a few of my Mom’s college students and my friends for the remainder of my time there. While it was steady and my boss was understanding of me having a kid, the constant reminder that I was not doing anything to follow my dreams, that I was irrelevant in the dance world now felt like a knife in my heart. God, postpartum sucks!  I left work really sad most days. Wondering if I should have listened to some of my family when they suggested that I move down south and get a job at the same company as my father. At least down there no one would know I was an aspiring dancer, so I wouldn't feel any shame in front of them that I wasn’t following my dreams. I could just blend into the cubicle space. But something in me wouldn't let me take, what in my head seemed like, the “easy” way out. So I kept just talking about it. How I wanted to get back to teaching dance or movement. How I wanted to dance and perform again. Not that I was actually auditioning for shows or teaching gigs. But I kept talking about it like I was. I guess that’s what the Universe needed to hear from me. I got a call and put in my 2 week notice. We were on our way to stability and me back to my dreams until my paycheck bounced. How does a PAYCHECK bounce, you ask?  Well…