It’s Monday, and over the weekend I realized I owe quite a bit of apologies. So if it’s ok with y’all, I’d like to air out my dirty laundry.
I’m sorry, 5 loyal readers, if my last post was too mean, please don’t leave me.
I’m sorry, pumpkins, for once thinking you were just for decoration.
check out said recipes here.
I’m sorry, former babysitters, if I was ever a terror. Trust me, I’m paying for it now.
I’m sorry, Jerusalem cruisers, for not knowing you were actually called birkenstocks.
I’m sorry, Chalie Brown, that you experienced balding at such an early age.
that’s it for this week, until next monday! patty
Took a quick scan of the calendar on my phone today and found events titled ‘Aaron,’ ‘Chris,’ ‘Nate,’ ‘Alex,’ and ‘Michael’ scattered throughout September. You may be thinking I linked my calendar to my Ok Cupid and EHarmony accounts, and while yes I have, the above dream dates are all with men under the age of 10. Now before you call Chris Hansen on me (actually, can you? he seems like a cool dude), do you remember my first nanny diaries post? Well, this is chapter two.
I remember when I first moved to New York City three years ago I was desperate for a part-time gig (sounds too familiar). I kept hearing from friends and classmates about how babysitting was the sweetest of gigs and I wanted in. I constantly reached out to nanny ads but my “I once helped my best friend watch her nephew for two hours when I was eight” experience wasn’t enough for some reason.
Naturally (and in tune with the rest of my life), when it rains it does in fact pour. And it was raining thunderstorms friends. I don’t know what it was, but the families I worked with early on in my career (lol) where horrific. First there was the violence, the moments where the younger sibling would bitch slap the crap out of their elder and my most common response was a delayed and monotoned “don’t do that.” I never quite knew whether or not to step in. I mean, I have 3 sisters and Beyoncé would agree with me that a little fighting never hurt nobody.
this is totally me if the little boy is plotting to put urine-filled glue in his sister’s hair and the little girl just told me she wishes she could be that piece of paper.
There were also the distant parents: I once sat for a family who lived on 73rd and Park (yeah) and they had me come over on the Sunday after their annual holiday party…actually, this fam deserves their own post. Also, there have been plenty of “that’t not my job moments” like when the 3 year old who was supposed to be sleeping frantically calls me into his room and then very calmly says “here” as he hands me a booger. Or the lazy and self-entitled 11 year old who asked me to peel her an apple (which I did not do btw). Yeah, like the movie my nanny diaries have definitely had their highs and lows, which I guess I will continue in another blog post, or perhaps 2.
stay indie, patty