When Hope is Lazy

By Vanessa Bailey

Broken engagement. Infant loss. Divorce. Parenting mistakes. Pain. Lost friendships. Surgery. Failed Adoption. Fear. Backstabbing. Picking sides. Bitter accusations. Lying. Cheating. Any of these ring a bell? Unfortunately, I've lived through them all. I know I have a purpose. But sometimes the realities of life can leave things convolluted and confusing. The one thing I've learned is that hope is not always easy to come by, but somehow we have to keep fighting. If you've ever been through something difficult, need a good laugh, are in the midst of a tough time and want to know that somebody else has been there too... whatever the reason may be, I've shared my most personal stories in hopes that you will be lifted even a little bit from the depths of despair, no matter what the reason. The world is mean; but we're in this together! Here's to you. When life tries to kick your butt, kick back with a little hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vanessa Bailey
• Release date: Jun 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386038153

Vanessa Bailey

Vanessa lives in central California with her husband and four children. She has her Master's Degree in Early Childhood Education and has worked as a professor for a local community college for three years. In her spare time she enjoys baking, reading, spending time outdoors with her family and movie nights with her husband. 

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Foreword  

The views, opinions and recollections in this memoir are exclusive to the author. The independent recollections of individuals referred to within this narrative may vary from those of the author; and the author’s independent memories are not meant to be representative of any other individual’s in any way, shape, or form. No individual or entity mentioned therein is meant to be ill-represented in any way, rather is seen through the lens of the author’s personal experience. Thank you, to each one of you, for the impact you have had on my life and the lessons I have learned because of our interactions. 

Chapter One: The Starting Line 

There is never a time quite like the first day of the rest of your life. Throughout childhood, all of us spend most of our time wishing we could be older and more independent. We fuss about going to school, yearning for days of summer that can be spent in the swimming pool and building treehouses. We complain about naps and whine about bedtimes. As youth, we worry about fairness, fitting in with the right crowds, fret over being liked by our peers, question why we have to do chores and homework, and spend the majority of our time attempting to master whatever new hobby we have undertaken. As pre-teens, we begin to buck the system and really start hassling our parents. Our lives are interconnected as we all find ourselves in a constant drive to reach the next milestone... shaving, driving, voting, drinking. As though in some way these milestones will more quickly inch us closer to the childhood finish line, when we are able to declare ourselves adults and fully assert our independence.

Eventually, we make it. I, like everyone else, found my freedom as a legal adult invigorating. There is that sweet time before the rest of your life (which, unbeknownst to all of us at the age of 18, involves an existence consisting mainly of working to pay the bills and paying the bills to survive), when you’re offered the opportunity to make nearly any choice you desire about which direction your life will go. For me, the possibilities were endless, yet I was able to quickly channel my energies into something I found meaningful. 

When I graduated from college with an Associate Degree in Education (early child development), I was only 18 years old. Prior to that, having been homeschooled throughout the entirety of my elementary and high school education; I’d been the lucky recipient of a solid educational foundation that served me well enough to allow graduation from high school at 15 years old. I successfully passed the California High School Proficiency Exam (CHSPE) and moved on to a junior college nearby my parents’ home. After breezing through all the required college classes in just under two years from my start date; I suddenly found myself graduating with a college degree at the same time as most other same-aged teens were graduating from high school.

As I had no interest in the typical party scene that most other 18-year-olds were experiencing at the time, I flung myself into work full time. I was a nanny at the time for a couple of families; varying days and hours depending on the week and their work schedules. I was also working part time hours at a church based private preschool and daycare center 15 minutes from my home. This sufficed for a while, before I started to get bored. My personality had always been one that desired a challenge; a constant motivator, if you will, to succeed, achieve, accomplish or overcome something.

At 18 years old, albeit not interested in the party scene, I obviously didn’t want to just settle down and begin a daily grind routine that didn’t consist of much and wasn’t overly intriguing. I had no great aspirations about a long-term career or plan for my life yet, besides the fact that I knew I wanted to settle down and be married with a family one day. But not yet. I began researching additional options for nanny jobs, besides what I was already doing. Maybe, as I had focused for several years on my studies and not only graduated from high school early, but also achieved a degree already, I could do something adventurous. 

I found an agency online that appeared somewhat reputable and required background checks of both the potential families who were seeking nannies, as well as the nannies themselves. Nanny jobs were available throughout all of North America and could be searched based on location, number and ages of children, requirements and responsibilities, even identifiers as specific as whether anybody in the home smoked cigarettes. I thought about it for only a brief moment before deciding I certainly wasn’t opposed to moving, as I had nothing of merit tying me down to the small country town in central California that I hailed from.

After lots of research, a tiresome application process, and waiting to clear the background check, I was set up with a profile and ready to start searching for families. Potential nannies could search for families and convey interest, and at that point it was up to the family to determine whether they wanted to respond, and how they would respond if so. They could completely deny or ignore someone who expressed interest, respond by asking more questions, or agree to a potential match and proceed with the steps to potentially hire the nanny.

Once my profile was firmly established, after double and triple checking, making minor revisions and changing the only picture they would see of me for the twentieth time, I searched and settled on two families that I immediately liked. One was in Canada and one was in New York City. As soon as I’d clicked the button letting them know that I would be willing to relocate and potentially be a part of their families, a wave of uncertainty suddenly rushed over me. What if they don’t like me or want me for some reason? What if something I put in my profile was a turn off? Would they be super picky and allow one little difference in our interests or preferences to keep me from their selection process?

Much to my surprise, both families responded within a week and said that they were interested in hiring me! This was not something I had foreseen, or a moment I had really envisioned actually happening (especially so suddenly) and so now I was faced with an unexpected problem to overcome; how would I choose which family? There were pros and cons to both, but after reading (over and over) the additional information that both families shared with me, I chose the family in New York City. They seemed, on paper anyways, to have much more interest in somebody who would actually be a part of the family, even during off hours, when there were no expectations regarding the childcare and work relationship. As I would be living in their home, away from my own family and friends and thousands of miles away from anything familiar, I made the determination that this would be an important necessity in my life away from home. As intriguing as the thought of moving to another country entirely was, the statement on the family’s profile that alluded to the nanny having her own wing and thus the availability of privacy, but family kitchen and common areas optional if desired didn’t seem to offer the same warmth and welcome as the New York family’s welcome with open arms availed.

An agreement and a final determination that I was cleared and had a start date, which was oriented around the approximate delivery time for an expected addition to their family, resulted in a plane ticket to New York – purchased in my name! Immediate panic overwhelmed my ability to function. What on earth have I agreed to? Where am I going? What if these people are serial killers? What if their house is a shack? What if they’re miserably mean? As I let my mind wander in wonder of what would await me when I moved across the country, tingles of excitement crept in here and there, bringing a nervous anticipation that only motivated me further to start packing and planning for what was to come in the next few months. 

Of course, I didn’t pay a bit of attention to any horror stories about live-in nannies until after the plane ticket had been purchased and my departure date was looming over me; and then I started to notice them in the news all the time. New ones seemed to pop up every day! I slowly mentally prepared myself for the worst as I daily packed up a little bit more of my room and shipped it away in boxes to a city whose name I knew on paper, but of which had no other experience or knowledge whatsoever.

The moving day finally came; I was sick to my stomach and couldn’t eat anything. I kept mentally reminding myself that worst case scenario I would just part ways with the family; pack up and move back home. I also had an aunt and uncle who lived in Connecticut, which was only a few hours away, and they were my additional backup plan via bus should I encounter anything absolutely horrific or unbearable. I don’t need anything I am bringing that badly, I told myself. It could be abandoned in a quick minute if I had to make a run for it and disappear somewhere in the middle of the night. Were that to happen, I would cross the bridge of worrying about breach of contract only if I needed to.  

I had made the first great leap of adulting, fully asserting my freedom and independence via a decision-making process that nobody would have agreed to had I first asked permission. But I was an adult now, so I didn’t have to ask anyone’s permission. This was the first of a lifetime of decisions that was big enough to be life altering, and I was able to make of my own accord, regardless of what anyone else thought or whether they approved. The five-hour plane ride seemed endless; I suddenly wanted to go back home and be with my family again! All I could think about was leaving my hysterical mother in the airport; who had kept repeating that she couldn’t believe she was letting her teenage daughter move across the country to be with a family they had never met, save for pictures and on paper. The irony of that, naturally, is the fact that my mother had done the very same thing when she relocated from Connecticut to California after joining the military. But that’s another story.

I finally arrived and literally braced myself mentally while forcing my tired body and questioning mind to keep moving forward physically. I exited the plane and began the walk through an airport I was unfamiliar with, quickly realizing I had seen only a few pictures of the family I would be moving in with. I felt like I’d be able to recognize them in the small crowd of people that was likely to be there waiting for somebody specific; making a mental note as I walked that it would likely be easier than what it seemed at that moment. If you’re the awkward person toward the back of the crowd moving in, who approaches those waiting and doesn’t immediately embrace anybody, it’s likely there is someone in the crowd doing the same thing as well. My plan worked.

I lingered toward the back while scanning the crowd of people that we