Tag Archives: Home

Nanny Diaries: Stage five clinger

Posted on by

2

When you are putting a baby to bed it’s important to be there just enough so it knows that everything is okay, but still be able to pull away in order to make your exit.

Being a nanny is a lot like this.

You have to spend all of this time with this little creature (I’m calling him creature because his cries  do not sound human) and know that at the end of the day it’s just a job.

Yes, you may be with him/her for a few birthdays, keep in touch with the family afterwards, be there for a couple of milestones…but at the end of the day you go home and the parents reap all of the benefits.

Nannying is basically renting a baby, except you get paid. You put all of this effort into bettering something you don’t keep. (Please note I am not saying I want a baby to keep!) It’s sometimes hard to to see the benefits, or even feel like you’re bettering yourself.

As much as I love this little monster, I can’t help but feel there is something more productive I could be doing. It’s fun to write about the annoyances, concerns and major milestones…but how is it going to help me in the end. And, as time goes on saying goodbye will just be more difficult…I already refer to him as my baby (yes I know I have a problem…but for now you can just suck it).

So, I hate to say it…but I think I’m the clinger in our relationship. Although he does still monkey grip my arms every time I try to leave.

Pancakes and Relationships

Posted on by

3

The most important things in life are good food, good friends, and even better lovers. In my short, yet intense, last year I learned quite a bit about that last part…and how exactly I manage to screw it up all the time.

Before last year, I wasn’t what you would call experienced in the dating world. Yes, I had gone on a date or two (literally…) and yes I had, had the crushes you lust over for months (only to find out it’s better to stay just friends), but actual dating experience…about zip.

All of which changed immensely in November, from the first date on, I was on a mission. A mission for what I’m not entirely sure. Regardless, I became a pro at the first date. Any dates past that though, didn’t really turn out that hot.

Maybe it was my reckless abandonment, or the fact that I believed every guy I met was my soul mate. But it seemed that whenever I got started on something (more than three dates) it always ended in disaster.

You see, this is what I figured out last night… but with pancakes.

Pancakes are fairly easy to cook right? you pour the batter, let it heat up and bubble, then flip. If you give it just enough heat, and pay attention to it, it comes out perfect.

My pancakes never come out perfect, they usually start as circles and end up as burnt triangles.

I can’t trust that the pancake is actually cooking once flipped, because I can’t see the bubbleness. So I cut into it, making it an ugly mess, usually cook it too long, causing intense burns and smoke. Then when I have destroyed it I flip it on my mom’s old bowl-dish.

After completing the process two or three more times, I turn off the burner, race to my room to stop the beeping and begin to lather my sorry excuse for pancakes in syrup. All the while comparing them to the perfection of my mom’s.

But, what I realized is that my pancakes will never be my mom’s (eventually they will be better), and the more I practice not mutilating them the better they will look (inside and out).

There are about a million recipes for making pancakes, and even though you follow them to a T it doesn’t mean they’ll come out looking perfect. You need to adapt for each pancake, and eventually you’ll create your own recipe that works perfectly (or close to it) for you. Just don’t give up.

Nanny Diaries: Meet Jabba the Hutt

Posted on by

0

When I started taking care of this adorable little boy I had no idea what I was getting myself into. From feeding to blow outs, it was all a surprise. However, today we are focusing on the latter.

Every time I say feeding I think of a fat piglet chowing down a troth full of scraps and gravy drippings. Feeding a three-month old is basically the same thing, just messier.

First, if you can’t get to the bottle fast enough he turns into a screaming alien, hands flailing, face turning red…and then comes the head butts. It’s like he knows to go for my nose, the side with the nose ring obviously.

Once we are seated, burp cloth in place, baby in arm, bottle in hand, he starts doing this weird mouth thing, similar to this. That’s how I came to the decision that all babies (until about a year) are really Jabba the Hutt offsprings. Think about it..

All they do is lay around and eat. They are covered in fat rolls, and when they laugh it takes more effort then it should. They slither everywhere, parents (or nanny) are basically slaves who will do anything to please them, and although they are cute…you can’t help but be a little terrified. Yes, I just called Jabba the Hutt cute but terrifying.

And that, my loyal readers, is how I am a nanny to a three-month old offspring of Jabba the Hutt. Stay tuned for next week: “Nanny Diaries: Can an exorcism be performed on a baby?”

Nanny Diaries: Intro

Posted on by

3

After I graduated from college I was going to move to New York, find some high paying job writing (HAH) and live in a studio close (if not identical) to Carrie’s. Funny how things turn out.

Instead I’m being motorboated by an eight-week old, spit up on, and now have various shirts that smell like poop. And the poop isn’t mine. In a world where it’s all about who you know, I somehow ended up on the short end of the stick.

After four weeks of not working, and not being able to find something that I would enjoy, I decided to give being a nanny a whirl. Because it wasn’t my first choice I was picky…I only  wanted a baby (because babies are cute), I wanted as many hours as possible, I want to find parents that I could talk to if there was an overlap, and I wanted to be comfortable.

On the last week of September I found just that, we met at Starbucks (already a good sign), she is close to my age (kind of), and her baby boy is the cutest baby boy I have ever seen. It was love at first sight, I had him smiling and he had me wrapped around his little pudgy baby fingers (literally).

It’s been an interesting three (going on four) weeks, I’ve learned a bit about myself (surprisingly I can keep calm in stressful situations) and have maybe discovered what it is I want to do (although that is a bit more iffy than the above).

So in lieu of my new job title I’m going to start a new “Nanny Diaries” post once a week. Sorry this one wasn’t exciting or cute. Stay tuned for next weeks post “Nanny Diaries: Meet Jabba the Hut”

Julie and Julia and Me

Posted on by

1

It seems like everyday I discover a new career I want to pursue, today’s career: Cooking.

It was only a couple of years, well lets be real, days ago that I still hated cooking. I felt that if I learned I would be subject to cooking all the time, and end up being one of the housewives that I detest. But apparently, just because you learn to cook does not mean that you will immediately get married and pop our 3 kids. Who knew?

And so began my journey into cooking. Like most things, cooking didn’t come naturally to me (still hasn’t). It’s one of those things I just don’t seem to have the patience for. Don’t get me wrong, I’m great at taking direction…but for some reason I am horrible at reading directions.

Maybe my hatred for math is the reason my eye glaze over while reading the recipe, or maybe it’s the amount of small type they manage to fit on one white page. Regardless, me and cooking books just do not seem to be friends. So I’ve resorted to googling ingredients and finding out what I can make. (Whoever invented google deserves a high-five every 10 minutes of the day)

I’ve discovered cooking is a lot like dating. There are a lot of things I hate about it, but the end product usually pays off. And if it ends up being a disaster, it’s just another funny story to tell.

And like dating, cooking can bring up some painful memories.  One of the reasons I refused to cook for a while was due to my mom’s love for cooking. Anytime I would get in the kitchen and attempt a meal I could picture her standing in our kitchen while I would sit and play on the floor. It was too painful to think about, I was learning to cook, not from my mom, but from the internet.

Granted most of the things I’ve learned in my life have been from the internet.

But back to cooking and dating. In the end, once you get the right spice combination and add the heat it ends up being a beautiful (and tasty) dish.  Although sometimes it flops and you are left irritated and still hungry…but I mean, that’s what dating websites are for.