Nanny Diaries

I took the two-year-old to swimming lessons today. He was a doll. The whole time I sat there with a big grin on my face because he was so cute. His other babysitter (who usually is the one who takes him to swimming) instructed me to, after the lesson, shower the little guy off in the open shower at the corner of the room and shampoo his hair, so we wouldn't have to bathe him later.


The lesson ended. The two-year-old's swim instructor approached me after the lesson.

We'll just call him....Goob.

GOOB:
Have I met you before?

ME:
(thinking) Oh brother... (Then out loud) Uh...yeah, I think once, when I brought his older brother to swimming. I usually work evenings so this is pretty new to me.

GOOB:
(as I'm getting two-year-old ready to shower off) So are you from New York City?

ME:
(thinking) Here we go... (then out loud) Uh...no. From Texas, actually.

GOOB:
Oh. (As I'm heading with two-year-old to the shower) How long have you been working with this family?

ME:
Uh...probably a year and a half, or so.

GOOB:
(While I'm at the shower shampooing the two-year-old's hair) Hey, I was thinking, since I probably won't see you again, I should probably go ahead and ask...

ME:
(thinking) NO!!! DON'T ASK! PLEASE! DO. NOT. ASK!

GOOB:
Would you like to have dinner with me?

ME:
I'm married.

GOOB:
OH....yeah...uh.

ME:
Yeah...haha...I'm flattered...but no.

Note to self and all other Nut Nannies in New York City: when watching child's swimming lessons, watch nonchalantly and keep outward forms of expression to yourself, unless Goob swimming instructor mistakes smiles and *thumbs up* to be for himself rather than for child.

Nanny Diaries

I'm wearing my Beatles t-shirt with camo pants. (My favorite tee designed with a pic of all four guys - John, Paul, George, and Ringo - on the front) I was sure the 7-year-old would say something about the camo pants. I figured he'd get a kick out of 'em, which is pretty much why I wore them. I enter the front door of my nannying destination, where I find my little 7-yr-old, glasses and all, sitting at the table eating a homemade oreo cookie.

7-YEAR-OLD: Why are you wearing a Jonas Brothers shirt?

.....Oh boy.

Nanny Diaries

I arrive at my nannying destination. 7-year-old boy is in trouble and in his room. He's crying. 2-yr-old boy is NOT in trouble, and 7-year-old thinks 2-year-old should get the same punishment as he does, even though 2-yr-old didn't do anything wrong.

7-yr-old emerges from his room for dinner. 2-yr-old is already in high chair, and through the following discourse is only half paying attention, very happy about eating his food. Dad is sitting down at the table. Mom is putting food is front of them all. I'm...trying to make myself useful.

7-YR-OLD: (whining) Why did you give me a baby bowl?? I don't WANT a baby bowl!

DAD: It's fine. Eat what's been given you.

7-YR-OLD: But I don't WANT this baby bowl!! I'm not eating this!! Put it in another bowl!

DAD: The bowl's fine. You don't need another one.

7-YR-OLD: YES I DO! I'm not eating this until you put it into another bowl!

DAD: There's no reason to dirty another bowl.

7-YR-OLD: I NEED another bowl!

DAD: That's enough! To your room. Now. Don't come out until you can speak nicely.

7-YR-OLD: (glares at Dad)

DAD: Now. To your room.

7-YR-OLD: (still glaring)

DAD: NOW. One...

2-YR-OLD: Two! Three!

7-YR-OLD: (to 2-Yr-Old) You are SO mean! You STAY OUT OF THIS! You have NOTHING to do with this!

7-yr-old stomps out of the kitchen, into his room, crying dramatically. He cries and yells to himself in his room, or maybe to his stuffed animals? Dinner is finished. Dad and Mom and 2-yr-old go to the opposite side of the apartment. I'm still in the kitchen. I hear from the 7-yr-old's room: (He's still crying and wailing to himself.)

7-YR-OLD: These are the LAST WORDS BEFORE I DIE! THE LAST WORDS BEFORE I DIE!

Nanny Diaries

7-YR-OLD: Is Hitler a bad word?

ME: No, Hitler's not a bad word. Hitler was a bad man.

7-YR-OLD: He was a VERY evil man.

ME: Yes, he was. You don't want to go around calling people Hitler, though.

7-YR-OLD: Hitler's in hell.

ME: Wellll...I understand why you would say that, but we shouldn't say he's in hell.

7-YR-OLD: But he did very bad things, and very bad people go to hell.

ME: Wellllll...still, we shouldn't say he's in hell.

7-YR-OLD: Why not? He is, though. He IS in hell.

ME: We shouldn't say that people are in hell because that's only something God can say. We leave that up to God.

7-YR-OLD: Oh. Well I didn't know that.

ME: It's OK. Now you do.

Nanny Diaries

The 7-year-old and I have just finished two games of War (the card game.) The 7-year-old lies back, very still, and stares at the ceiling.

ME: Whatcha thinkin' Lincoln?...Huh?

7-YEAR-OLD: (Sigh)...I'm in love with someone!

ME: (laughing, can't help it) You ARE?!?! Who?!?!

7-YEAR-OLD: I'm in love with Eleanor! She kissed me on the LIPS!! I'm going to marry her.

ME: When did she kiss you on the lips?

7-YEAR-OLD: And we even went to dinner and there was a two-seater and we sat at the table by ourselves and it was like we were dating!

ME: Woah!

7-YEAR-OLD: Yes! And we even shared our drink and our food!!!

ME: Wow, that really is like a date!

7-YEAR-OLD: Well, just our food. We had our own drinks. And I got down on my knees and begged and begged her to marry me. I said, (he gets on his knees and puts his hands together in prayer fashion) "Please! Please! Please! MAAAAARRY MEEEEE!"

ME: Did she say yes?

7-YEAR-OLD: Uh-huh!

ME: Did Eleanor kiss you on the lips BEFORE or AFTER you asked her to marry you?

7-YEAR-OLD: (thinking) .....Before. But I think I'll have to kiss her again at the wedding. Won't I?

ME: Yes, you will.

7-YEAR-OLD: Will I HAVE to?

ME: Yes, you have to kiss her at the wedding.

7-YEAR-OLD: Why? Because that's what makes us married, right?

ME: Well...no. Because it's tradition. Yes you will have to kiss Eleanor at your wedding.

7-YEAR-OLD: (He smiles and flops on the floor and buries his face into the rug.) Oh just thinking about it makes me sweat!

Nanny Diaries

Ring! Ring!

7-YEAR-OLD: I'LL GET IT!!! I'll GET IT!!!!!

ME: Say B----- residence.

7-YEAR-OLD: (Picks up phone) B---- residence speaking.

Nanny Diaries

A conversation with the 7-yr-old boy I babysit as we're watching the end of a New York Rangers hockey game on T.V:




7 YR OLD: I'm actually kind of glad Obama won.

ME: You are?

7 YR OLD: I mean, I'm SAD that McCain lost because I was for him. But I'm actually kind of glad Obama won.

ME: Really. Why's that?

7 YR OLD: Because he's our PRESIDENT!

ME: Well...not yet if you want to be precise.

7 YR OLD: People should really be glad for their president.

ME: Well that's true. Did you guys have a mock election in your class at school or something?

7 YR OLD: (confused) mock?

ME: Oh. I mean a pretend election at school?

7 YR OLD: No.

ME: Oh.

7 YR OLD: Anyways, it's not like the president can tell us what to do or anything. He can't force us to do things.

ME: Hmmm, it's true that we're a free society, and we make our own choices.

7 YR OLD: Right! We make our own choices!

ME: The president can tell our military what to do, though.

7 YR OLD: We're not at war right now.

ME: We are actually. In Iraq.

7 YR OLD: Oh. But not anywhere around here, right?

ME: Right.

7 YR OLD: I hate wars! Wars are stupid. Fighting each other with knives and stuff.

ME: Well, the United States only goes to war if it's to fight for what's good...to help people. (???) it's always better to try to work it out, though. You're right.

7 YR OLD: Yeah! Work it out! Work it out with YOUR WORDS! Geesh.

ME: That's right. Work it out with your words...... Sometimes countries have a harder time working it out with words.

Nanny Diaries

I babysat tonight after my rehearsal.

FYI: OK, y'all know I'm not a full-time nanny. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's just that I'm not. But I DO babysit on a consistent basis for the same family, so I guess you could say I'm the Relief Nanny.

You know the four-letter-word? Not the sort of bad one but the REALLY bad one? The one that rhymes with what hockey players hit. SO, the 7-yr-old asks me at dinner tonight what it means. Some kid said it in school. OK now, I get saying "bagina" in 1st grade, but #*&%? 1st grade? Really?

Cuz when I was in first grade, on the second day of first grade to be precise, a kid told me to say the word "Ship," and I did. Then he told me to say it with a "Z" on the end, and I did (?). Then he told me to say it with a "T" on the end, and I did. And he raised his hand and told the teacher that I said a bad word. And I ran over to the teacher in her pretty yellow dress and swore I didn't mean to, over and over again, and she believed me. That kid was a jerk.

I don't remember when I learned what it meant.

But THIS four letter word? In 1st grade? Private boys school first grade. Yep.

I told him it was a naughty word and that we don't say it. What was I supposed to say? Seriously, do you TELL a first grader what that MEANS?

Seth swears I'm in training. I'm starting to believe him.