Just how many people have touched my knickers?!

While emptying the washing machine yesterday I had an awful thought - just how many people have touched my knickers over the last 6-8 months?

I ask, not because I am some scarlet women, free and easy with my favours to every Tom, Dick and Harry (...well, just Dick as that's my pet name for Biker Boy) but because we have had many child carers and cleaners in our home over that period helping us out.

Why? Well, we had planned to move at the end of last summer, but then we lost our buyers and the deal was off. However, being the considerate type, we had given our wonderful nanny T lots of notice to find a new position, and being so wonderful, she did indeed find one incredibly quickly. I had waxed lyrical to her new employers about how lucky they were to get her. I didn't overdo it for she truly was a catch, and I was genuinely delighted that T had managed to sort herself out so quickly with what appeared to be a very nice family. How I regretted the waxing. Come September, we were left without childcare but still with two jobs to go to. What to do? Luckily a good neighbour (those were the days of being in the thick of the community...) stepped in and took care of Cheeky when Lucky was at school, then fetched Lucky for us at the end of the school day. Cheeky didn't like that. He's not good with change and he had been really happy with T. For the following 5 months he moaned every day about going to the neighbour's house.

In the meantime, we had also lost our cleaner, so started a new temporary one, Z. Another pair of hands on my washing.

When we did finally move, we found a childminder to look after the boys. It was all done in a bit of a rush, but surprisingly, Cheeky adapted quite well to this new situation. Lucky didn't. Something was bothering him, and we identified quite quickly that there was a big clash between Lucky and the childminder's older daughter. It wasn't going to work. As the childminder had also offered to help out with the cleaning, you guessed it, more hands touching the undies.

Enter, stage-left, S (for Saviour). S has now been with us for nearly 3 months. She is an older lady who has been there and done that. Both boys are happy, Biker Boy is very comfortable with her, and I have to owe my blogging to her as she is incredibly artistic and creative and spotted the frustrated writer in me.

Just like those odd socks and the occasional pair of undies that go missing when they enter the great chasm of the washing machine, we've all been feeling a little bit lost of lost and disconnected of late. Biker Boy and I have had the continuum of work to keep us steady, but the boys have felt all the change and upheaval the hardest. As we move forward into summer, and settle into new routines, I give sincere thanks to S and the balance she has brought to our home.
And I pray and I hope that her hands will be the last pair of strange hands on my smalls for quite some time to come.