And Then There Were Two

Last week started out with me telling the new kid she didn’t need to come back. She wasn’t working out, and even though things could have been lots worse, my gut told me they weren’t likely to get better quickly. I decided to nip it in the bud rather than bring about change by wishing, which I find never works.

So we’re back to two caregivers. One, Puang, has worked about a month with Jip, but it feels like we’ve known her for life. She’s funny and wise and knows just when to push and when to joke. The other, Ya, has been with Jip since the beginning, about fifteen months already. The recent staff turnover has brought her out of her shell a little bit. It seems like she enjoys being the experienced elder.

Until we find a replacement for Noi, the new kid, I’m not as free as I’d hoped to be. Still, letting her go was the right thing for the long term. Jip never said she was unhappy with her, but Jip’s words are no longer always a reliable gauge of how she’s feeling. She’s likely to criticize and praise the same caregiver on the same day.

Her actions usually tell a clearer story. Sometimes recently, Jip has done what we all do when under stress—resorted to strategies that we tried in earlier stages of life. She’ll plug her ears rather than discuss an unpleasant situation, or she’ll bang her fists in frustration if things aren’t going the way she’s used to. I noticed her doing things like that after the new kid’s shift was over. Since the kid has been gone, that stuff has been rarer.