The Worst Nanny In The World
today i heard both, "i love you," and "i am... 100% mad at you!" and so i think i must be doing something right. ha!
first, we went to the zoo. for one thing, they have a train. for another thing, it was outside, and as Buggy (the four year old) put it, "it's much too beautiful a day to be inside," and can i get an amen to that, my short and dapper friend. so true! it was beautiful. part of the beautiful scenery, of course, was one young mr. Buggy who insisted on wearing a dinner jacket everywhere today. dapper man. he wanted to wear it bare-chested underneath, but i had to put my nanny foot down and insist on a long sleeve tee as a foundation garment. that was our first, and very very minor, battle of the day. but he is definitely testing me.
Chicky on the other hand, is a sweet and malleable two year old who is pretty much up for anything and who managed to NOT fall asleep in the car on the way home from the zoo, a miracle that requires Divine Intervention i believe. i don't know how he managed it, but i am hiring him for all my miracles from now on, because he also managed no poopy didees while we were out, a feat unachieved by one young mr. Monkey (the 16 month old) in our total history to date. i'm totally stoked. i should point out quickly that they are both 'halfs' by which i mean, four and a half and two and a half. they're getting where they're going, but are definitely the ages they are. that's all i will say about age for now.
i had managed to dodge making a committment on going to the children's museum after the zoo, a totally logical, geographically friendly post-zoo trip that was playing deep in the Hellish fire of naptime for one mr. Chicky. i dodged it, sadly, by using the logical argument that it would depend on how hungry they both were, and how Chicky felt about naptime when we were done at the zoo. it was in fact my plan to consider exactly these criteria, and a few more - like how likely we were to crash and burn later in the day if i played fast and loose with naptime, but no sooner are the words out of my mouth than i am wondering how wise it is to reveal my thought process to a very savvy four year old who clearly was stockpiling evidence for his case later. i could literally see the wheels turning. i now know why my mother early on suggested a career as a lawyer for me. one way or another, her curse was fated to work its doom... "some day, some day - you'll have kids, and you'll know just what i'm talking about here," and sure enough - if only for the day - i have kids, and here they are teaching me a lesson.
in fact, by the time we were headed back to the entrance, Buggy was telling me he was 'exhausted' and Chicky was dragging heinie. 'are you really?' i asked Buggy, very sincerely, 'because if you are exhausted, we can go to the children's museum another day. we don't have to do it just now.'
"oh, i'm exhausted," he clarified, "but i'm not too exhausted," and because they had behaved themselves spectacularly at the zoo - sharing nicely with other kids at the sand pile and the hay in the farm exhibit, and munching snacks in rapt silence on the train ride, i allowed him to effectively take it back. it was the only right thing to do. also, they'd got up late, and were not as bad off as they might have been. now i could go in for the kill, bargaining.
"all right. we will. we'll go to the children's museum for half an hour - thirty minutes. that will be long enough to play trucks, and Chicky can nap like a polar bear on the way home." Chicky's turn to profess his love - and it's so simple, and so sweet and genuine, that my heart physically aches from the blast of it. we had just emerged from the polar bear exhibit, where they'd just had lunch and gone to lie down in the sun like rugs. literally, they were laid out face down, paws to the side and toes facing up, chin to the pavement, exactly like rugs. like they'd been pole-axed. dropped like sacks of potatoes. this is more or less how i pictured one young mr. Chicky looking in half an hour's time, but it was hilarious to have a mental picture and then see it portrayed so accurately live. now we're going to the children's museum. "i love you," Chicky says, his nap-deprived countenance beaming up at me. yes child - i would do anything for you. so would your mom - i have to believe this, or i would never forgive myself for randomly ignoring your naptime today. if she'd heard this speech from you, she'd throw naptime out the window too, i swear it.
and so it was that we went into the children's museum at two-thirty, over two hours after Chicky's usual naptime. they happily played in the dig pit, then on the boat/whiffle ball launcher, then at the market. then our timer went off (timers are the management tool of choice for exits and entrances in their home, and my cell phone has this happy capability built right in) and we ambled as slowly as overheated mountain goats back to the car. these boys hurry for no man, beast or natural disaster. we changed didees on the Little, in the anticipation of him hitting the wall on the way home and drifting into blissful unconsciousness. they prodded each other awake instead throughout the drive, chattering about the trucks en route and the trains under the holgate bridge. Chicky emerged from the car at home doing the Long Stare and Buggy was fast becoming restless and crabby. Buggy's been slowly working away from naptime anyway, reports his mom: about every four or five days it catches up with him and down he goes. today would not be the day.
lunch of mac and cheese, veggie dogs and pears. this takes ages. what would take an adult or a single child an hour to complete, in the way of a feeding ritual, takes two children roughly the length of time required by the federal government to send you money by mail. ages. at last, they have eaten, and the telling scent of poopy didee is slowing wafting through the room. Chicky and i retire upstairs to change didee, leaving Buggy to cannibalise the remainder of his brother's lunch - a privilege he has awaited rather confidently, like a turkey vulture circling over a reckless squirrel. we implore him to follow at his leisure.
naptime's ruse is 'camping'. in this ritual, they all take their sleeping bags into Chicky's room, lie down on the floor, and read books and sing songs until they pass out. we did indeed have a good go of it, with Chicky flopping around like a trout in his bag and Buggy chattering loudly and happily about the fourteen-inch thick library book on helicopters he'd picked out for a naptime story. after his story was over, i suggested to Buggy that he could play quietly downstairs while Chicky went to sleep and then we'd play trains. this was the battle he won, and one i was happy to lose. Chicky knocked out in a heartbeat after it was properly dark and quiet. Buggy and i had quiet time downstairs ("we may lose the naptime battle but maintain observance of quiet time," mom had advised me).
it was a fair trade. i got to write up Shift Report for mum and dad, not knowing when either of them might be home (being doctors, neither do they), and Buggy got to play trains without suffering under the distasteful yoke of sharing. he picked out a book to read that was interrupted three times (dad calling, the cat getting into the art supplies, and a neighbor stopping to ask about the doghouse on the curb), and just as i had arrived at the unfortunate conclusion that it was six-thirty, way too late for napping boys to lie undisturbed, Chicky ambles down the stairs of his own accord. hallelujiah! saved from the unpopular sport of nap-waking - i LIKE it! sadly, mr. no-nap Buggy decided to swipe trains from his brother and intervention was called for. we introduced the Penalty Box, a.k.a. the top of the refrigerator, no-man's-land, where items fought over reside until the (i hate it) Adult In Charge has determined a proper length of time has passed - generally, when both parties have forgotten to care. this is when i got the '100% mad-at-you' speech, and when we discussed how taking things from people (him from his brother, me from him) make people feel. i felt we were maybe getting somewhere when in the door comes mum, closely followed - completely surprising everyone - by dad. home at the same time?? the stars certainly have to line up for this occasion.
sadly, the '100% mad' incident was also our last major discussion before mum and dad got home, so throw out the previous ten hours - i am now the Worst Nanny In The World. so was the last nanny, the one who only lasted four months, to hear the parents tell it. they hope aloud that i am prepared to accept unpopularity on occasion. i assure them that i am, and tick off the rest of the Shift Change Report (how many vitamins are they allowed? Buggy planted the tomatoes while Chicky went down for a nap, and yes we were completely reckless with time today). all is well in the Animal household. my sweetie called as the mum was coming in the door, and we have a dinner date. i'm out the door again, only to return after four blocks because i'm driving away with Buggy's car seat still in the back. another quick chat and i'm gone again - and home to my sweetie who's gotten groceries for chicken satay and BEER! WOoooOooOooOhOooOooOOOO! all is right with the world at large, peace on earth goodwill toward us all.
first, we went to the zoo. for one thing, they have a train. for another thing, it was outside, and as Buggy (the four year old) put it, "it's much too beautiful a day to be inside," and can i get an amen to that, my short and dapper friend. so true! it was beautiful. part of the beautiful scenery, of course, was one young mr. Buggy who insisted on wearing a dinner jacket everywhere today. dapper man. he wanted to wear it bare-chested underneath, but i had to put my nanny foot down and insist on a long sleeve tee as a foundation garment. that was our first, and very very minor, battle of the day. but he is definitely testing me.
Chicky on the other hand, is a sweet and malleable two year old who is pretty much up for anything and who managed to NOT fall asleep in the car on the way home from the zoo, a miracle that requires Divine Intervention i believe. i don't know how he managed it, but i am hiring him for all my miracles from now on, because he also managed no poopy didees while we were out, a feat unachieved by one young mr. Monkey (the 16 month old) in our total history to date. i'm totally stoked. i should point out quickly that they are both 'halfs' by which i mean, four and a half and two and a half. they're getting where they're going, but are definitely the ages they are. that's all i will say about age for now.
i had managed to dodge making a committment on going to the children's museum after the zoo, a totally logical, geographically friendly post-zoo trip that was playing deep in the Hellish fire of naptime for one mr. Chicky. i dodged it, sadly, by using the logical argument that it would depend on how hungry they both were, and how Chicky felt about naptime when we were done at the zoo. it was in fact my plan to consider exactly these criteria, and a few more - like how likely we were to crash and burn later in the day if i played fast and loose with naptime, but no sooner are the words out of my mouth than i am wondering how wise it is to reveal my thought process to a very savvy four year old who clearly was stockpiling evidence for his case later. i could literally see the wheels turning. i now know why my mother early on suggested a career as a lawyer for me. one way or another, her curse was fated to work its doom... "some day, some day - you'll have kids, and you'll know just what i'm talking about here," and sure enough - if only for the day - i have kids, and here they are teaching me a lesson.
in fact, by the time we were headed back to the entrance, Buggy was telling me he was 'exhausted' and Chicky was dragging heinie. 'are you really?' i asked Buggy, very sincerely, 'because if you are exhausted, we can go to the children's museum another day. we don't have to do it just now.'
"oh, i'm exhausted," he clarified, "but i'm not too exhausted," and because they had behaved themselves spectacularly at the zoo - sharing nicely with other kids at the sand pile and the hay in the farm exhibit, and munching snacks in rapt silence on the train ride, i allowed him to effectively take it back. it was the only right thing to do. also, they'd got up late, and were not as bad off as they might have been. now i could go in for the kill, bargaining.
"all right. we will. we'll go to the children's museum for half an hour - thirty minutes. that will be long enough to play trucks, and Chicky can nap like a polar bear on the way home." Chicky's turn to profess his love - and it's so simple, and so sweet and genuine, that my heart physically aches from the blast of it. we had just emerged from the polar bear exhibit, where they'd just had lunch and gone to lie down in the sun like rugs. literally, they were laid out face down, paws to the side and toes facing up, chin to the pavement, exactly like rugs. like they'd been pole-axed. dropped like sacks of potatoes. this is more or less how i pictured one young mr. Chicky looking in half an hour's time, but it was hilarious to have a mental picture and then see it portrayed so accurately live. now we're going to the children's museum. "i love you," Chicky says, his nap-deprived countenance beaming up at me. yes child - i would do anything for you. so would your mom - i have to believe this, or i would never forgive myself for randomly ignoring your naptime today. if she'd heard this speech from you, she'd throw naptime out the window too, i swear it.
and so it was that we went into the children's museum at two-thirty, over two hours after Chicky's usual naptime. they happily played in the dig pit, then on the boat/whiffle ball launcher, then at the market. then our timer went off (timers are the management tool of choice for exits and entrances in their home, and my cell phone has this happy capability built right in) and we ambled as slowly as overheated mountain goats back to the car. these boys hurry for no man, beast or natural disaster. we changed didees on the Little, in the anticipation of him hitting the wall on the way home and drifting into blissful unconsciousness. they prodded each other awake instead throughout the drive, chattering about the trucks en route and the trains under the holgate bridge. Chicky emerged from the car at home doing the Long Stare and Buggy was fast becoming restless and crabby. Buggy's been slowly working away from naptime anyway, reports his mom: about every four or five days it catches up with him and down he goes. today would not be the day.
lunch of mac and cheese, veggie dogs and pears. this takes ages. what would take an adult or a single child an hour to complete, in the way of a feeding ritual, takes two children roughly the length of time required by the federal government to send you money by mail. ages. at last, they have eaten, and the telling scent of poopy didee is slowing wafting through the room. Chicky and i retire upstairs to change didee, leaving Buggy to cannibalise the remainder of his brother's lunch - a privilege he has awaited rather confidently, like a turkey vulture circling over a reckless squirrel. we implore him to follow at his leisure.
naptime's ruse is 'camping'. in this ritual, they all take their sleeping bags into Chicky's room, lie down on the floor, and read books and sing songs until they pass out. we did indeed have a good go of it, with Chicky flopping around like a trout in his bag and Buggy chattering loudly and happily about the fourteen-inch thick library book on helicopters he'd picked out for a naptime story. after his story was over, i suggested to Buggy that he could play quietly downstairs while Chicky went to sleep and then we'd play trains. this was the battle he won, and one i was happy to lose. Chicky knocked out in a heartbeat after it was properly dark and quiet. Buggy and i had quiet time downstairs ("we may lose the naptime battle but maintain observance of quiet time," mom had advised me).
it was a fair trade. i got to write up Shift Report for mum and dad, not knowing when either of them might be home (being doctors, neither do they), and Buggy got to play trains without suffering under the distasteful yoke of sharing. he picked out a book to read that was interrupted three times (dad calling, the cat getting into the art supplies, and a neighbor stopping to ask about the doghouse on the curb), and just as i had arrived at the unfortunate conclusion that it was six-thirty, way too late for napping boys to lie undisturbed, Chicky ambles down the stairs of his own accord. hallelujiah! saved from the unpopular sport of nap-waking - i LIKE it! sadly, mr. no-nap Buggy decided to swipe trains from his brother and intervention was called for. we introduced the Penalty Box, a.k.a. the top of the refrigerator, no-man's-land, where items fought over reside until the (i hate it) Adult In Charge has determined a proper length of time has passed - generally, when both parties have forgotten to care. this is when i got the '100% mad-at-you' speech, and when we discussed how taking things from people (him from his brother, me from him) make people feel. i felt we were maybe getting somewhere when in the door comes mum, closely followed - completely surprising everyone - by dad. home at the same time?? the stars certainly have to line up for this occasion.
sadly, the '100% mad' incident was also our last major discussion before mum and dad got home, so throw out the previous ten hours - i am now the Worst Nanny In The World. so was the last nanny, the one who only lasted four months, to hear the parents tell it. they hope aloud that i am prepared to accept unpopularity on occasion. i assure them that i am, and tick off the rest of the Shift Change Report (how many vitamins are they allowed? Buggy planted the tomatoes while Chicky went down for a nap, and yes we were completely reckless with time today). all is well in the Animal household. my sweetie called as the mum was coming in the door, and we have a dinner date. i'm out the door again, only to return after four blocks because i'm driving away with Buggy's car seat still in the back. another quick chat and i'm gone again - and home to my sweetie who's gotten groceries for chicken satay and BEER! WOoooOooOooOhOooOooOOOO! all is right with the world at large, peace on earth goodwill toward us all.