Fancy Therapy: From the Depths of Chaos...

“I am actually glad I saw that. I was seriously concerned for your physical safety.”

Fancy Therapist and I were having a chat last night via video. We’d run over a bit (I’m lying. He was late.) Nothing unusual happened. It was just 5pm at the Fancy Home.

The kids were getting out of the bathtub and began climbing the stairs, screaming some combination of  “Mummy!” and “We’re starving!” (In toddler talk- Din!  Mo! Milk! Cookie!). “Dinner’s on the counter! Be right there!” I called to Nanny #1. Upon hearing my voice, the screaming intensified. Then the door rang. Ocado.

Nanny #1 and I nearly collided on the stairs as she tried to corral the Minis toward their chairs and I went to let the groceries in. Upon seeing me, their screaming reached new levels. Pulling one child off my leg, I grabbed my frozen food and threw it towards the kitchen, simultaneously pitching boxes of diapers downstairs. Ocado man dodged flying packages of wipes as I tossed ice cream into the fridge. More screaming. This time for pork chops. Some food got thrown. TC poured a cup of water on her head. Fancy got an Ocado bag wrapped around her ankle while trying to cross the baby gate and nearly plunged to her death.

And all this while holding my laptop with one hand and screaming at the horrified face watching me, “Hang on! One minute! Sorry!” I extricated myself and refocused on our conversation.

“What the hell? What are you doing? Is this how your household functions in the evening? I mean, I know you are stressed but it’s actually quite fortuitous that I had an opportunity to witness it all. Picture’s worth a thousand words, you know. I thought you were going to actually fall down the stairs and die. Right there in front of me. Unbelievable.” FT clucked his tongue and just looked at me.

“Well, that was sort of a bad moment. Just the groceries came a little early and we’re running a little late and I had some ice cream in there and TC is going through this Mummy Thing and…”

“And you need more help. Period. Jesus. Stop managing your household budget like you’re still in graduate school. What are you doing? We just actually were talking about this. It’s not a good use of your professional self to spend 2 hours dropping off H’s shoes for resoling and mailing packages. But he’s not going to do that either and he’s entitled to shoes without holes. And you have a career to maintain. It’s not okay that you have groceries delivered at the same time the Minis are eating just because you don’t want to sit home and wait during the day. You hire someone. My wife and I make a fraction of what you guys do, our kids are grown and we still have a fulltime, English speaking, errand running person in our home.”

“So you’re getting another Housekeeper,” he continued. “Or a PA who’s physically in your house at your beck and call. (I have one but she’s off site and just does calendar and travel kinds of things. No groceries or dry cleaning.) Someone who can go buy detergent or an onion or whatever shit you need. And you stay sane. Seriously. What a joke. I don’t want to see that kind of crap ever again.”

I love FT. Guess we’ll be starting the interviews soon.