Self-Made Mom

I admit it.  I haven’t talked to my ex-nanny since we broke up.  I’ve been very enamored with my current gal pal, and well, it’s awkward to call someone you’ve dumped. Right?  I’ve definitely thought about her and wondered what she was doing, but I haven’t yet got up the nerve to pick up the phone.

But then she called me.

After hanging out with my son one day, I came home, checked my messages (she didn’t leave one) and the caller ID (can anyone say, stalker?).  I did a double take when I saw her number on the grey screen.  I checked again and verified it.  Yes, my ex-nanny called me.

What did she want? What was going on? Did she need to guilt me into giving her good references? Was she lurking outside my house waiting to pounce on me? And why didn’t she leave me a message?

Of course, I had to know the answers to all these questions, so I immediately dialed her.  It was like I was calling my high-school-never-gonna-be-my-boyfriend again, except this time I had clear skin.  My palms were sweating and I had a nervous stomach, but my curiosity was winning over my rationality.  She picked up after a few rings, and instantly I felt comforted by her familiar voice.

A snippet of our conversation:

Me: “Hey, I saw you called.”
Ex: “Yes, I did.”
Me: “But you didn’t leave a message.”
Ex: “Oh, I thought you were on vacation.”
Me: *thinks* she remembers I was going on vacation? “Right, no, I’m home. What’s up?”
Ex: “Oh, nothing, just wanted to say hi.”
Me: *thinks* Ok, nothing scandalous, damn, so what’s my phone exit strategy??

Turns out the purpose of the call was benign, after all.  She really just wanted to see how my son was and wish him a happy birthday.  After a few niceties, we made plans to see each other in the future.  Set a time for a hopefully happy reunion.  (It’s always easier to make these kinds of plans when you can drag a cute kid along for the ride.  Who then has to leave after 20 minutes because of “nap time.”).  So I guess we’ll see each other soon, this time, in the flesh.

Does this count as cheating?

Tags: nanny, ex-nanny, break up with nanny, child care   

Oh, but they do.  In the neverending news of bad baby names, my friend just sent me this story about an Ohio State fan naming his son after two legendary OSU coaches.  The kid’s name? Tressel Hayes.  Seriously, I think I’m going to barf.  According to the father, Brent Huffines:

If nothing else, it assures the Buckeye tradition stays in the family. Can you imagine someone named Tressel Hayes going to Michigan for college?

No, I can’t imagine someone with that name going to my esteemed alma mater (we wouldn’t want him either!), nor can I imagine ever naming my son Carr Schembechler (although Fielding Elliott has a nice ring to it).  I’m as big of a football fan as any, but seriously, where do we draw the line? What happens when OSU goes on a big losing streak when little Tressel is in college? (A girl can dream.) DH- don’t get any ideas.

Tags: baby names, Ohio State University, University of Michigan, Jim Tressel

At first when I had my son, everyone kept saying, “it gets better, don’t worry.” Unfortunately, that’s not exactly what you want to hear when you are blinded by sleep deprivation, your body hurts in places you didn’t think it could and you are holding a little screaming thing the size of a large chicken.  You cannot see through the newborn haze, and so you don’t believe that things really do improve.

Fortunately, they do.

I’m now the proud mother of a one-year old.  A little “man-in-training” that actually has a personality.  Experts say the term “toddler” starts at age one.  So technically my son is no longer an “infant.”  He’s vital and growing and excited about all the new things he’s doing. How I’m doing, you ask?  I’m having a tougher time with the transition.

One problem I’m suffering from is how I am supposed to refer to my son.  I found myself the other day fumbling for words. “Uhh uhm, I have a child.” Child? Over the past week my little bitty baby somehow turned into a child? The thought of banishing baby from my vocabulary brings on the Godzilla of lumps in the throat.  Although in my mind, no matter how old he gets, he will always be my “baby.” Right? (Oy, I am turning into my mother.)

Another issue for me: when you have a toddler, it’s not as easy to blame fussiness on bottles. He’s no longer drinking formula from a bottle (weaning was E-A-S-Y, lucky me) so when he’s kvetchy, I cannot pull out the “he has gas” wild card that I loved to use during infancy.  Damn. I guess I really have to figure out what’s wrong and ditch the Mylicon.

Also, I didn’t plan for certain things, like, uhm, mobility.  Yeah, the “babyproofer” is finally coming over next week.  That should be interesting. And expensive. Did WE all have babyproofed homes growing up? I don’t recall my house having gates, latches, magnet closures, outlet protectors and you-can’t-go-anywhere-without-something-protecting-you covers.  And look how good we turned out! (okay, maybe you guys turned out normal.)

Then there’s the work thing. It’s real easy to go back to work when you have a crying “blob” of a baby at home (I’m channeling Angelina Jolie at the moment.)  When you head back to work after maternity leave, usually your baby can’t do much but smile occasionally.  Unless you’re my kid who sat up and spoke Spanish from day one.  Don’t worry, I’m just kidding.  He couldn’t speak Spanish until he was six months old.

But seriously, when they’re that little, you know your days will be filled with many smelly diapers, maybe a lunch outing if you can get your s*** in a bag and make it somewhere on time, and crying. Lots of crying. I forgot how much a four-month old cries compared to a one-year-old. So I don’t hang out with anyone who has a baby under six months anymore. Five months if they’re a good friend.

Now, however, my son is a little person. He gives back.  He communicates in his own, darling way. Even if that just means pointing and a lot of consonant sounds. And we have fun together when I’m home.  We get to go swimming, hang out at the zoo, and sing songs.  I think he likes our activities. But he told me in Spanish, so I didn’t quite understand.

You guys, I’m beginning to SAHM the light. (Get it? I’m such a loser.)

But wait a sec.  No, no, I’m not ready to throw in the towel of working motherhood just yet. When I said he gives back, I meant, that when he eats a meal now, he gives all the food back to me by throwing it in my face.  I’m currently very happy having a few days where I can count on having clean clothes at lunch.

Yes, it’s true. I’m suffering right now from a bad case of one-year-old syndrome.  I don’t want it to go any faster, but I don’t want to look back.  Truth be told though, it wouldn’t be right any other way.

Tags: SAHM, working mom, toddler, infant, child care 

I don’t really have the energy to right now, (I’m on another business trip, I know lame excuse) but I find the discussion on today’s Wall Street Journal “The Juggle” blog about a recent NIH study fascinating.

It’s also easy for me to abstain from the discussion because you all know I employ a nanny and love how neat my house is her.  Having a nanny was the option I felt most comfortable with and it suited our random-work-hours-hectic-travel schedule the best.  Of course it doesn’t hurt that she cleans a pantry and fridge to perfection.  I dare you to show me a day care that’ll do that! So what if my son doesn’t have 10 words by age 5?  He’ll figure it out and I’ll be able to find my ketchup. (Relax.  I’m just kidding.  All I really care about finding is the peanut butter.)

No, but seriously, I’d love to hear where you stand on the issue.  Maybe I’ll feel up to debating it tomorrow when my presentation is over.

Tags: day care, child care, nanny, NIH study, The Juggle

I’m on vacation again, and I’m hoping it will be a little more relaxing instead of just “moving the routine somewhere else” (as my friend BusyMom put it.)  This time around, I took some action to ensure I get a little more R&R (in my new post-baby world, this stands for Reading & Restaurants.) - I brought my nanny along for the trip.

I am assuming that right now some of you readers are sitting horrified in your seats at my primadonna-like behavior.  I, too, never thought I’d be the kind of mom who’d take a nanny along on a vacation. People who take nannies on vacation scream bratty-lazy-filthy-rich-bitchy to me. But we are on a ski trip, and since junior isn’t old enough to ski, go to day care (they must be potty trained), and since it’s probably not safe to ski with him in the Baby Bjorn, the nanny was the next-best option.

We weighed the option of hiring a sitter at our destination and my ever-rational hubby did do a cost/benefit analysis for us (I’m math challenged) to figure out if it really made sense to pay for another mouth to feed.  But junior’s old enough now to know the difference (between me, the nanny and a crazy mountain lion) and it didn’t feel right to leave him in the Rockies with a complete stranger/ potential ax-murderer. (I’m a little neurotic, ok?)

So here we are, on vacation, nanny in tow. The problem is, I’m too worried about whether or not she’s having a good time to relax on my own.  For instance, on the plane on the way here, guess who got to sleep on the plane? Not me nor my husband.  My nanny looked refreshed and ready to go as soon as we touched down.  Me, on the other hand? I looked like I had just spent two and-a-half hours on a plane with a 11-month old. I’m sure you can picture it.

And who got to sleep in this morning? Not me. Let’s put it this way - junior’s a good kid, but he still thinks we’re in Chicago - and it’s an hour earlier than Colorado.

But getting up early and not sleeping on the plane are a small price to pay for having a built-in babysitter so I can get some good turns in.  Trust me, I realize this. So no complaints.  As I’ve said before, it’s a mother’s job to make sure her nanny’s happy, and I will do my best to ensure she has a good time too. Hell, she has to spend a week straight with me.  The view below from where I’m blogging also helps.

Don’t worry, though, I’ll write more soon.  Assuming I get a break.

Tags: nanny diary, child care

Apparently, a former nanny of Madonna is planning on writing a “tell all” book about her time spent at the House of Fake British accents.  Apparently, a day later, this rumor was debunked, but the netherworld of nanny diaries still fascinates me.  It’s not that I’m concerned that one day my nanny will write a tell-all book about me and my family (what’s the worst thing that she’ll say, that I call too much? That I nag incessantly?) No, the only diary penned by a nanny these days that I’m interested in is the one she keeps of my son when I’m at work.  And, as we’ve learned, not all nannies are made equal, and frankly, neither are their daily logs.  I’m also fully against a nanny cam (not feeling up to debating this right now, though, sorry), so in my mind, the next best thing is a nanny note-taker.

As part of the suggested protocol for my new nanny, I ask her to keep a record of what my son does when I’m flitting about at meetings and conference calls.  I beg of her to write down specific things so I can pretend like I know what happened all day long (in between the phone calls.)  So she obeys and records things like what he eats (lots of canned food), if he poops (usually) and what activities they do (going on the swings is likely.)  I don’t recommend a certain format, or style of writing, like I would usually recommend in any project I assigned at work (I’m Type A, remember?) But at home, where it’s in a mother’s interest to keep a nanny happy, Type A doesn’t go over well.  So I leave the daily log up to her discretion, and assume she’ll figure out what works for me and her. The result? A somewhat-neatly written, time-oriented manifesto of babedom in a spiral-bound notebook.

Nanny diary exhibit #1: The Timekeeper

I did not come to this design by chance.  Being the neurotic first-time mom I am, I did a little research with some of my other working-outside-the-home-with-nanny (WOHWN?) friends before I settled on my decision.  I talked to one friend who purchased a professional nanny-log with its very own pre-designed time slots and kiddie graphic. It even came in a neat pleather carrying case.  She investigated all the “baby tracker” (that’s what she calls it) options, and from what I can tell, I think she’s getting a good return on her investment.

 

Nanny diary exhibit #2: The Power Broker

Another friend gave me a peek into her nanny journal.  I love my friend, but boy, I could do without all the detail.  I mean, I like a play-by-play as much as the next mom, but when it comes to bowel movements, I don’t need the color commentary.  Apparently, my friend likes her nanny to document the ups and downs of poo-poo. 

Nanny exhibit #3: The Poo-Poo Log

So working moms of the world, there you have it.  Real nanny diaries for you to peruse.  Anyone else have logs they want to share?  Where do you fit on the nanny log spectrum? Dare I ask?

Tags: nanny diary, nanny cam, working mom, child care, baby tracker 

Scene: My friend showing to me how she turned her 11 month old’s car seat to face forward now because she’s over 20 pounds and her daughter’s happier.

Me: What?  How could you?  I mean feeding her whole milk at this stage is one thing, but you should really call the doctor before you turn the seat to face forward.

What got into me today?  Can somebody bring me down a notch? Or two or three?

Tags: sanctimommy, mom+friends

As a public relations professional, I have been schooled in the many areas of communications - media relations, employee communications (my specialty) and crisis/ issues management.  But even a sort-of seasoned communicator like myself is at a loss of words for how to counsel my friend on her latest nanny crisis.

First her nanny broke up with her (I always thought nanny break-ups were one-way, but I’ve been proven wrong.)  While scrambling to find interim child care, she found a new nanny, only to have the nanny not show up on her first day.  I couldn’t have made this up if I tried.

What this leads me to believe is that if you are in the world of having a nanny as your child care option, you need to have a nanny crisis protocol.  Not a ”back-up” plan (those are good too but I’m bad at dealing with reality.)  More like a series of steps you could take to deal with the unimaginable stress of having no child care.  Some suggestions (in order of importance.)

1) Go into a quiet room, shut the door, scream loudly and stomp your feet.  This technique will work especially well if you have a toddler because he or she can join you in your explosion of rage.

2) Call your mother.  In these types of situations you will need some sympathy points.  Nobody can say “everything will be okay sweetie” and “don’t worry” and sound like they mean it quite like Mom.

3) Get a stiff drink.  My morning drink of choice is usually a Bloody Mary. 

4) Call work. (I had to put that in here somewhere.)

5) Go for some sympathy shopping.  If the pity call to your mom worked well, you will be meeting her for lunch later that day somewhere conveniently located close to a mall.

6) When naptime for the baby arises, go online and e-mail everyone you know who could possibly know a nanny for you.  Everybody loves a panicked e-mail so you’re sure to get a lot of responses.

7) Call your husband and tell him if he ever wants to see you naked again, he’ll be sure to get home by 4 p.m. to serve the kid dinner and put her to bed.

Have another drink and watch some fluff on TV.  My choice?  American Idol.  You may be in a bad mood, but at least you’re not making an ass of yourself on national television.

9) Go to bed and worry about finding nanny dearest tomorrow.  You’re just not thinking rationally ever today.

Tags: nanny, child care, nanny break-up, nanny crisis, back-up child care 

During my travels this week I was able to catch up on my reading again.  How nice because it allowed me to find out how the celebs are parenting these days.  Or as some of us like to say: outsourcing parenthood.  Apparently if you’re rich and connected enough, you can pay someone just about any amount of money to figure out your child’s little problems.  Like what to do if your kid cries when you leave the house (alcohol drastically reduces those pangs of guilt, by the way.)  Or how to get your kid to sleep through the night (ok, I might even pay for that.) 

The article even gives props to a famous mom (name witheld) who put off shooting a Puff Daddy video so that she could stay home and sleep train her kids.  Let’s be clear, here, though, if we had to sleep train our kid, could we call our boss and ask for the day off?  I think not, but a girl can dream.  Because I’m feeling sleepy dreamy today, here’s my list of what I would hire someone to help me with, ahem, outsource.  Please feel free to add to this.  It’s just a working draft.

• Changing diapers that smell really really bad.  I’ll take the pee, you take the poo.
• Wiping snot from colds.  Using the suction bulb would be a huge perk, but I probably can’t afford that.
• Cleaning up my floor after dinner (alternatively known in my house as, how much food can I possibly throw on the floor?)
• Playing “roll the ball” with my son after I’ve done it 20 times.  Clapping and shouting “yay” after he’s figured out how to flick the ball my way is optional.
• Shopping for diapers, Aquaphor, A&D and Ocean’s Saline Nasal Spray.  Buying these things are boring.  Unless you can sneak in a trip to Target for them and throw in a cute bag while you’re at it.

Ok, your turn.

Tags: outsourcing parenthood, child care, mom rants

Sometime Monday evening, after a rousing hour of Prison Break and a lame dinner of canned soup and Ethnic Gourmet Pad Thai with Tofu (Foodmomiac, please don’t hate me), I snuck away from my husband to check up on my most prized possession: my son my blog.  Thinking I was being covert in my mission, I quickly monitored my page views for the day (not any higher than the day before), went to my admin site to see if anyone had commented on my latest post (nope) and rushed into the bathroom pretending like I had done what I told my husband I would do: turn off the computer.  I was then confronted with the stark reality of my actions while brushing my teeth.

Husband: “What were you doing?”
Me: “Just turning off the computer.”
Husband: “No you weren’t, you were ABUSIVE BLOGGING.”
Me: (spits into sink)

Abusive blogging?  Who me?  Truth be told, my husband and I did set some blogging ground rules not too long ago when I spent 20+ hours over a weekend working on my site redesign (it may look nice, but it basically ruined my marriage for a 48-hour period.)  So after my teeth were clean and my pajamas were on, I went over our rules to see if I was abusing the terms of our agreement.

Blogging Rule #1:  No blogging if my son is tugging at my pant legs to be picked up.  Or needs to eat.  Or needs a diaper change.  Basically, no blogging during my son’s awake time.

Blogging Rule #2:  Nighttime is hubby time.  No computer past 8:30 p.m. unless I have a good reason.  Like somebody famous e-mailed me and offered me lots of money for my writing. 

Blogging Rule #3:  I’m only allowed to tell a maximum of 2 stories (for a total of 25 minutes) related to my blog per day.  And no storytelling or bouncing ideas off DH during any type of sporting event on TV. 

Blogging Rule #4:  No asking DH if he reads the site.  If he reads it, he’ll let me know how brilliant and creative I am.  Trust him, he will.

Blogging Rule #5:  Remember that I have a real job that pays me.  Right.  Back to work now.

The verdict?  I may have been a blog abuser this week, but I’m taking my son to the Big Apple this weekend, so you won’t hear from me for a little while.  And, I’d love to hear if you have set blog ground rules with your family as well.  But don’t tell my DH; I don’t want him adding to the list.

 Tags: blogging, blog, blogging rules, rules for blogging