Self-Made Mom

Things aren’t going terribly well in the Great Nanny Hunt of 2007.  Let me put it this way: quantity doesn’t mean quality.  Meaning, my husband and I only requested one callback out of six candidates to meet our son.  Could it have been that one had absolutely NO experience as a nanny?  Or was it the comment one of the potential nannies made about the “mean Jewish family” she used to work for? Hello, did she not SEE the bend in my nose, brown eyes and frizzy hair? (In her defense, it IS rather humid in Chicago this week.) Whatever it was, yesterday put me over the edge. 

So I did what any insane working mom with-no-nanny would do. I went on shopping bender. It’s the perfect antidote to the blogging and nanny-searching bender.  Especially when the purchases arrive the next day like these:

I bet you’re wondering what came in such a HUGE box. Or why I have two.

Or when they are really expensive, even though you could get a great knock-off at the Gap, like these:

There’s no way I’m linking to the brand name or price of these khakis.

Or when they are really pointless, but totally cute, like these:

Neither rain nor gloom of night nor whatever stays this mommy from the swift completion of her nanny hunt.

Ahhh… I feel so much better now.  And really, aren’t I, in essence, saving money this week because I’m not paying for a nanny? If you care, that’s how I am going to rationalize all of this to my husband when he finds out what I did.

Just when I was getting a little more calm about the nanny situation, I happened upon this essay.  Great. Now I don’t only need to find a nanny, but a new BFF.  I want to know which editor thought this was a good idea to publish today! And then string her up by her toes!  Ok, I’m just kidding. Maybe just string her up by her hemp-soled sneakers.

I guess I never really realized how powerful the blogosphere was until I took a little break and came back with a vengeance.  I can’t thank you all enough for your thoughtful comments and ideas for me in my search for a new nanny.  I spent the better part of yesterday pouring through online bulletin boards, craigslist and sending out e-mails with lots of apostrophes and capital letters (HELP!!!) to my friends in search of nanny #3.

Oh, you thought I am actually working this week? Ha! Not when there’s a nanny to find.  That’s my main job for now.  And being the Type A I am I now have six seemingly suitable nannies lined up for interviews over the next two days.  Who are they, you ask? An interesting question.  Because just after people stopped asking me if I’m going to quit, they asked me what kind of nanny I want.  Foreign? Young? Single?  I’m not totally above stereotyping the nanny (I love how Tibetan nannies are “in vogue” right now).  In fact, my list of candidates so far is as diverse as the U.N.

• Polish
• Belizean
• Argentinian
• Mexican
• Tibetan (see, not above stereotyping)

But I’m not picking on nationality.  I need to know more than where they’re from.  I need to know if they’ve got the goods.  So I’m wondering if you all want to help me by sending me via my comment box some questions you would ask the nannies I’m meeting. I have a few ideas, but since I’ve failed this twice now, I think I might need a little extra help.  And I’m thinking we can take this idea one step further and once I’ve got all the candidates and questions and answers written up you could even help me vote to pick my nanny.  Doesn’t that sound like fun?

Any takers?  If you send me a good question, I’ll send you one of these funny new “working mom” greeting cards I just read about.  Just kidding- couldn’t someone have come up with a better punch line for life as a working mom?  Like, did you hear the one about the nanny who quit giving two days notice? Oh wait, I forgot, that’s not that funny.

The word is officially out that my nanny quit and only gave me two days notice to find a replacement.  Everyone’s been so nice and thoughtful offering to help out anyway they can.

So why is it then, that after my friends offer to help, they ask me this:

Are you going to quit?

Yes, I’m not in the greatest place mentally or emotionally right now.  And yes, the thought of finding yet another nanny and resuming the dreaded search process makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and scream.

But does it mean that I should give up?  That finding someone else to care for my son is so challenging that I should just call it quits and stay at home? I hate quitting.  I like challenges.  And while I’d never continue the battles of finding quality child care just for the sake of “winning,” I’m not sure walking away right now is the answer either.

Truth be told, this is the toughest moment I’ve had to endure as a working parent. I’ve been hung out to dry and I’m angry and bitter.  It makes my stomach churn to have to transition my son yet again to another caretaker.  But to walk away from all I’ve built up here at work?

That really makes me nauseous.  Especially now that I have my fabulous view permanently in place.

My perfect weekend of blog rehab ended with a quick phone call from my nanny tonight:

“I don’t think I’m going to be reliable anymore.”

Effective Thursday.

I couldn’t make this up if I tried. 

Two nannies.  One year. 

I’m a nanny flunkie. 

And to think, I was in the middle of composing a really great post when this all happened.  A sign, perhaps?

Tags: nanny, child care, break up with nanny

Think there are things money can’t buy?  Guess again.  Now, if you have the dough, you can hire “parenting subcontractors,” people you can rent out to do annoying tasks for your children that you don’t want to.  Like removing head lice.  According to an article in Time, there’s a woman out there who really does this.  I’m serious.  She runs a company called “Texas Lice Squad” and parents hire her to come over to pick out their kids head bugs.  In addition, parents are also outsourcing other tasks like taking kids to soccer practice or a doctor’s appointment.  

Critics argue that parents who do these things are “lazy.”  Parents who use these services see it as freeing up more “quality time” to spend with their kids.  

As a working mom with little time to spare, I see it as my dream.  There are certain aspects of parenting (like head lice removal) that give me the creeps and that I’d rather not spend my free time doing.  I’m sorry, but if someone wants to help me out a little with potty training, I’m all ears. I’d love to have an expert around that I could hire on a moment’s notice to help with certain unglamorous tasks. 

Of course, I’m really not at the point where I’d actually pick up the phone and call the Head Lice Lady quite yet, so I’m talking a big game.  But in preparation for the future, I did make a short list of other things I would consider outsourcing, if I could afford it and if someone wanted to do it:

• Nail clipping - there’s no worse feeling than pricking your kid’s finger because you went to deep with those clippers
• Teeth brushing - isn’t there a toothbrush out there made for sore, teething gums?
• Dinner clean up - I’ve wrenched my back one too many times picking up green beans
• Fever taking - you get my drift

What would you outsource? Don’t lie and tell me you’ve never daydreamed about this…

Tags: outsourcing, Time+magazine, subcontracting

Nanny cams are so 2005.  If you really want to find out what goes on at home while you’re at work, ask your cleaning lady.  She’ll tell you.

Mine did before I broke up with nanny #1.  And she tells me how much she loves nanny #2.  I asked her today, in fact, as my nanny’s out of town this whole week.  (Unfortunately, the cleaning lady doesn’t make for a good nanny back-up. THAT would be awesome.)  Of course, I take her opinion with a grain of salt.   She’s not exactly worried if my nanny is teaching my son to count backward from 100.  (I’m not either, but it sounded like a really good exaggerated example.) But she’s a mother herself and can certainly judge love and care.  And neatness.

I’ve heard from others who’ve hired and fired their child care providers based on what their cleaning ladies think.  I’m being serious.  As far as I’m concerned, our cleaning lady, who’s been with us for over 5 years, who washes my dirty socks and scrubs my toilets gets a say in who watches my son.  It takes guts to clean our toilets.

Plus, for a freaking s***load a little more money, you get A LOT more reliable and first-hand advice about who’s watching your child(ren) without videotapes, internet connections or obsessive computer-watching.  Just use this as an argument when your husband tells you hiring more help around the house is “too Brady Bunch,” or something ludicrous like that.  It’s not. In my demented world, I’m happy that there’s someone else around once a week to see what’s going on.  (I do trust my nanny, though, I swear I do.)

But once in a blue moon, a good cleaning lady could save you a lot of headache.  And dust.

Tags: nanny cam, nannies, child care

“Back away from my mouse.”

I actually said that to a coworker this week.  He was sniffling and coughing in my office trying to show me something on my computer screen and well, after recently enduring the bronchitis epidemic of 2007, I really didn’t want to catch his sickness for fear that I could potentially pass it along to my son.

See that’s one of the problems with this working mom thing - I now have more places to catch icky germs.  It’s bad enough that at Mommy and Me classes and restaurants and the park shared drool and messy handprints are the norm.  Now, I have to fight off pesky coworkers who decide it’s okay to come to work a little bit under the weather.  And then stand in my office.

You can call me paranoid, you can call me crazy, but if you’ve just come off two weeks of sleepless nights and puke and ear aches, you’d understand where I’m coming from.  So please, if you’re not feeling well, just call me on the phone. We don’t really need to talk in person now, do we?

Tags: sick, coworkers, germs, colds, office

I’ve often complained to my coworkers about the dim lighting in our communal bathroom at the office.  The flourescent bulbs seem to be from an era past, casting my beautiful spring whites in nasty shades of yellow.  My skin, which is already sallow to begin with, seemed ever more orange in the atmosphere of the bathroom.  Which is why I was shocked to walk into work this morning and find that these tawny bulbs have been replaced with brighter alternatives.

Unfortunately, this means now I can see how bad I look by the end of the day.

I’ve ranted before about how difficult it is to get ready in the morning for work when you have a baby to contend with.  But now, I fear, my new foe is the brilliant bulb giving off its ray of fake sunshine in the loo.  It’s bringing out the very worst in my appearance.

See, 8 months into this working mom thing, I’ve got my morning routine down pat. As long as I can distract my son with an episode of Noddy or whatever is on at the early hour I get ready, I can apply my foundation semi-evenly and smear concealer onto my chin, where it seems I am reliving my adolescent youth.  A stroke of blush, some mascara, (permanent eyeliner if I am lucky), finishing powder and I am typically good to go. Fixing up my face is the last step of my morning routine and when I am finished, I usually do not take another look in the mirror.  There’s no time for hiding that one last freckle or wrinkle. I’ve got to get to work.

And when I’m at work, I’m usually too busy or too lazy to check on my appearance.

But by the time 3 p.m rolls around and I leisurely stroll to the bathroom to stretch my legs I am horrified at what I see.  My mascara is smudged, the pubescent acne spot (ok, zit!) is erupting and I have a sheen about me that reminds me why I never opted for the “dewy” look in the ’90s.  Yes, I could bring my powder compact to work. Yes, I could reapply concealer at the end of the day. But somehow, I always forget to do this.

At least there’s a bright side.  My son.  Thankfully, he doesn’t care how shiny, or matte or smudged I look at the end of day.  As long as I’m home in time to put him to bed, he glows like the brightest bulb there ever was.  And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?

Tags: working mom, office rants, getting ready for work

I always thought it is my job as a mother to protect my son. That was true until I met The Childproofer.

Not too ago, I began to realize that my watchful eye was no longer going to protect my son from all the evils of the world. Well, my home.

Until he started crawling, I never knew the dangers of ordinary household items. In a matter of weeks, the banal and boring became fun and exciting. Cabinets and drawers filled of kitchen utensils were a veritable chest of toys. Blind cords became ropes to swing from. You name it, my son was into it.

If you want to read more about my harrowing experience with “The Childproofer” read my online monthly column on NBC.5.com Chicago!

Tags: babyproofing, baby+proofer, child+proofer