About a month ago, my helper (yes, the daft one) tried to resign. Working in Hong Kong, despite the enormous perk of being able to dress up and go out every Sunday and public holiday (or receive double pay in lieu if it was just too many days off in a row), was terrifying to her and she didn’t think she could swing it, by her own description making too many “stupid mistakes”.
Dis is an "artistic shaped" sofa
By now she’d been trapped in lift lobbies, fallen off “artistic shaped” sofas because she’d sat on the “artistic” end causing the whole thing to tip over (add to the picture the loud shriek Rockstar gravely relayed to us had filled the lobby – what really amuses me is Rockstar’s super serious expression (as usual) in his recount of the incident – after observing Kings and I staring quizzically at “artistic shaped” sofa now placed Where No On Can Sit On It – honestly, it is a sofa!), I was going nuts about some of said mistakes she made (most recently bundling up in two sweaters with hoodie drawn close to her face when it was cold, then leaving Rockstar to blade outdoors in summer-weight shorts and tee because he left his jacket in school. She felt bad after, but my son was already a tiny icicle on wheels).
- Dis Is An Icicle
What made me want to keep her was she is almost the only helper we’ve ever had, to not try to get herself fired for the extra pay an employer is mandated to give her, instead being honest enough to tender a resignation and agree to serve notice and train a replacement. (The only other helper who tendered resignation just matter-of-factly never wanted to take care of kids/ babies and already had a gig waiting for her elsewhere.)
Convincing our current helper to stay cost us a HKD 500+ pay rise monthly and movie tickets for her two besties (which she eventually decided to exchange for cash to go out for a meal – take that, Skyfall). But in talking her out of leaving, I discovered our former confinement nanny (yes the shark) had met her at the market, inviting her for a meal and tea and then also calling her – and yes, telling her it was pretty hard to work here.
I was livid. It turned out shark nanny had finished (possibly left) her previous appointment early (she loathes appointments where there are lotsa grandparents involved and had hinted earlier, not to mention she is generally good enough to be very picky), and wanted to come back. I use rent-a-mum, with the helper filling in very short periods, if I need to be away from otherwise 24-7 baby care. No way I’d trust a new helper alone with the baby at all, I barely trust this one alone in between any shorter professional nanny hiring slots.
When I cooled down, I started to remember more about shark nanny’s own situation. Somewhere in the 3 months she worked for us, it had become apparent she was erm, more of a “shark” than a few years ago taking care of Rockstar. I attribute it at least in part to this story:
Shark nanny’s eldest son, significantly older than the other two, had been about to marry a girl from the Mainland. They had sent out all the wedding invitations, did the photos, and then two weeks before de day, the girl emptied all their joint accounts – which held all her eldest son’s savings – and took off. Picking up the pieces following the discovery of his fiancé’s betrayal, her devastated son underwent a huge transformation, both physically and personality-wise.
“I love money, I love to spend it. I love my massages and my big house in China,” shark nanny told me flatly. “I work like this because I can’t bring myself to accept any more money from my son.”
She’s not young anymore, she must be about our parents’ age. Every new job – new babies, new set of grandparents to pussyfoot around, new 2-hourly feeds through the night, new tiny little person reminding you you are a terrible, terrible human being for not being able to make. It. Stop. Whatever it is. For all her dislike for being out more than a couple hours from home, preferably Room, her crazy hate campaign against Cars, Ms Rockstar is not Rockstar The “Unbearable,” per previous pediatrician’s description.
Do I still get to be that furious she did that with my helper, hoping to be re-employed in a fairly “easy” gig? Hong Kong can be such an aggressive, opportunistic, dog-eat-dog town. Is she like that because of the horrible thing that happened to her son, or is she just like that?
No, I’m not mad at her anymore. But I’m still not re-hiring her. I don’t want to be paying her HKD 29,000 every month until the kids are in college. Wouldn’t put it past her to try that.
- Those Two bonding over teething biscuits (Rockstar soon tossed his to JD after this pic was taken)
Ps: Ms Rockstar had her 6 month well-baby checkup couple days ago; it’s a relief she gets to try some “solids” (which are basically a tablespoonful of rice cereal mixed with breast milk – two, if she likes it… will blog more about feeding adventures soon) because she often avidly watches her brother eating… Available freezer space is all chock-full with bags of breast milk, but I’m not letting up on my pumping regiment til she’s closer to a year old – based on the instructions we have from the ped (also Babycenter.com), each 4-ounce (120ml) bag has to be consumed or chucked, it can’t be refrozen. That means the supply will run down superfast, though we are currently up to our ears in breast milk bags…
Hope Rockstar did not catch a cold after literary turning into an icicle.
I think giving the helper a raise and more benefits is definitely better than rehiring the “shark”. It is really a sad tale re the son’s fiancee who ran away with all his money. Sometimes in situations like this, the victim will blame himself for “mou dai ngan sik yan” cantonese for “having a poor judgement of another person’s character” and will have difficulty trusting another person again. Wonder how could the girl do it to him – unless it was her plan all along – her modus operandi on men.
Very curious about the artistic chair – any photos of it?
Nice photo of both Rockstars munching on teething biscuits. Ms Rockstar will be pleased to be given solids to eat now.
If Ms Rockstar can’t finish the breast milk given to her, is Rockstar willing to drink it? else so sayang to throw it away.
1) I stuck him in steam bath for 15 mins, my go-to treatment for any would-be colds (don’t like kids to take a lot of meds so tend to under-medicate and be very anal about them not touching their face with their hands)
2) have put a pic of the chair up – right at the narrow end is actually a concealed swinging door leading to the carpark which obviously gets a lot of action so no one is ever going to sit there again. There are quite a few decorations in the lobby which look breakable (vases, porcelain statuettes, amethyst geode for feng shui) so I think they really don’t want the sofa to tip over again
3) NO WAY he will go near my breast milk. He initially watched curiously as I transferred milk into bottles and bags but vigorously shook his head when I asked if he wanted to try it. Insulted at the strong reaction, I reminded him his absolute best friend, this boy he worships, nursed til he was 4, and another close friend of mine with a pretty macho little boy nursed til 2.5… finally figured that was probably why our ped was on my back to nurse direct, she didn’t think i’d keep it up long enough without also the bonding experience…
Thanks for putting up a photo to the artistic chair. Ah but Rockstar did drink breast milk when he was a newborn. Just that he cannot remember it. 🙂
I don’t know but I think expecting children to reciprocate does somewhat puts a lot of pressure on the children.
I just remembered someone else who’s tried my breast milk – JD! When I first spilt some she wouldn’t, but after seeing me feed the baby she insisted on trying it too…