On Thumb Sucking

I previously mentioned my history with this digital obsession/oral fixation. I'd have to ask when I actually started, but I assume it was as a baby. I vaguely remember an attachment to a certain lightweight, white with blue, pink, and yellow stripes baby blanket. Later it was a big, soft, pink blanket, that I still have. I vaguely remember being a child and sneaking into my mother's bed at night. Dad was already (still?) at work and at the risk of waking my mother, I pulled this fluffy, pink, comfort off of the full length mirror it was covering in their room in order to keep warm. It was mine from then on. I have this blanket still. (Though it is missing a large chunk out of the center.) I suppose these days we would call it my "lovey."

For 13 years I sucked my thumb with it in my bed every night. For SHAME! My parents never really pushed the issue. We tried the standard methods of quitting at one time or another. There was: nail polish, band aids, hot sauce, gloves, etc, etc. We never really stuck with anything. Maybe because they knew I needed braces anyway. (My little mouth was too small to hold all my teeth so the incisors were pushed in front of the nearby ones.)

The only thing that finally worked was my actual commitment to quitting. I realized that I was old and it was inappropriate to suck my thumb any longer. It was that simple. I WANTED to stop. I don't much remember being teased or anything for it at slumber parties, but I did try to hide it because it felt..."wrong." One night I took it upon myself to keep my thumb away from my face as I slept. I twined my fingers together and tucked them tightly between my legs. Then...I tossed. And turned. I won't say that I got much sleep that night. But over the course of a few weeks I was able to break the habit. Thanks to thousands of dollars of orthodontia and years of painful braces, my smile leaves no hint of the years my thumb spent pushing my front teeth out of whack. (Thanks Mutti and Paw!)

That brings me to my current charges, R, D, and A. All thumb suckers. (I find it interesting that the boys suck the same thumb and A the opposite.) I have dealt with the removal of pacifier use from a child, but this will be my first experience achieving what I did for myself 19 years ago. I have had other charges with this 'affliction,' but no other parents have taken the jump to break the habit before now.

The triplet's Doctor has recommended we begin weaning them from the thumb. We can see the effect it is having on their teeth. The parents are on board and so is nanny.nora. We started months ago. I stopped allowing them to bring their lovies out of bed. The kids really like to cuddle them and suck when they are around. There was minimal fuss and I was able to divert them successfully until this became a habit.

Next, I stopped letting them suck at any time besides nap/bedtime. I accomplished this by reminding them EVERY time I saw them do it. Yes, I said: ", thumb out," "please don't suck," or "we only suck at nap time" a million times. In fact, I am still saying it now, as D continues to fight the urge. (He's a trickster. Often likes to "pretend" to be napping so he can suck. I've taken to encouraging "pretend" sucking. THAT didn't go over well.)

However, I digress. The third step in our "stop the sucking" brigade, started recently. We have been talking to the kids about how sucking will mess with their teeth. They get the concept, so I moved to putting socks on their hands at nap time. Today was the first try. (12/22/10) A and R had no trouble getting to sleep. However, D tossed and turned for a good hour. He didn't complain, but I could tell it was keeping him from sleeping. eventually I removed the socks and he fell to sleep peacefully, thumb in mouth.

Two out of three, 66%. Not bad, but we'll keep trying. I admit, I have a little soft spot for D. I know how hard it is to quit. However, the socks will go on every day, until he sleeps slackjawed and snoring, WITHOUT that pesky opposable digit suctioned between his lips.

On Sannty.nora-Claus and Elves

Happy holidays to all! This might be slightly inappropriate seeing that the majority of my elves are Jewish, but it was too cute not to post. :-)

Whatever your beliefs, this time of year is meant for family, friends, and fun. Call up a neighbor! Have a play date. Sometimes getting out of the house is the only thing that can maintain sanity! Good luck, and happy elf-ing!

On Christmas Magic

The families I have worked for have always been wonderful. They are so kind and I'm just as blessed to have them as they say they are to have me. About 3 years ago I was working for a family with 2 wonderful little girls. Their mother was helping them to write Christmas lists. Soon the talk jumped to all the wonderful attributes we love about jolly old Saint Nick --his rosey nose and cheeks, long beard, and the tummy like a bowl full of jelly. The discussion turned serious when the eldest, C, pondered how Santa would bring them toys when their house was sans fireplace.

"He's magic!" Mom replied cheerfully, steering the conversation away from that slippery, snow covered slope to avoid giving away the secret parents work so hard to keep about the fat man in the big red suit. Grabbing that conversation by the jingle-bell reigns she asked about nanny.nora and the holiday adventures we had planned. Once again the eldest grew serious.

"Nora's magic like Santa, huh Mom?"

To her credit the mom didn't bat an eyelash and happily confirmed the fact.

On nanny.nora Nightmares

Sometimes I dream of my charges. Like most of my dreams, they are frequently not pleasant. Though I am generally a confident person in real life, my insecurities often show up in my dreams. I feel I have had this dream before, but each time it is regarding a different one of the triplets.

D was off with a family member doing something, so I was watching only A and R. It was Spring, warm and really sunny. The 3 of us went outside to play in the yard. After a long while, I called them inside and somehow I left R out. A and I fell asleep for a short while. When we woke I realized that possibly, to my horror,  R was still outside. I exited the house, praying all the way. He could have been hurt or kidnapped. I saw him laying limp in the flowerbed. My heart was in my throat. I was convinced he was dead. As I got closer I was relieved to find that he was asleep. His cheeks were terribly red. Of course he had been laying directly in the sun. It was obvious he was sunburned, but I did not know how bad. I took him inside and cleaned him up. I tried to get them both to nap. When he woke, poor R had these black blistery pus-filled balls on his cheeks. SEVERE sunburn. My friend Kym somehow appeared (you know how that happens in dreams.)  She helped me treat the sores and told me what lotion to put on it. When i finished he just looked rosy cheeked, but with dry skin. I was fretting about telling his mother. Sadly I decided to lie and not mention to her about the black stuff and leaving him outside. I told her the half truth, that I had forgotten to apply sunscreen, but left out details. She did not question me, but I felt badly as R was cranky and crying. 


I often worry that I'll make a mistake. I have issues about being perfect. ;-) Thankfully though, it was just a dream and my insecurities stay locked in my psyche. I'm too honest for my own good. In real life I doubt I would ever be so careless and I certainly couldn't live with the lie.

On Slightly Off-Topic Topics

If you read the side bar of my blog you might have noticed that I have no kids of my own, but I hope to change that eventually. (Read: Soon.) Motherhood has always been part of my life plan, but sadly it still has not happened. In the midst of starting my current nanny job (with triplets) I suffered a miscarriage. It was one of the most humbling experiences of my life. I cannot thank The Cs enough for their kindness and understanding during a difficult time of adjustment to my place in their family while dealing with my loss and disappointment. It has been 2 years and I still have not let go of those feelings of regret and blame. I often wonder about the child that might have been. I know I allow myself to wallow in misery more than I should, but it's a little bit difficult not to considering that I spend my days pretending to be the thing I WANT to be most in the world.

Children are so perceptive. Even before the miscarriage the desire to have my own children was so great that I would tear up at the cutest of diaper commercials. Usually I am able to push my feelings aside, but one day as I was snuggling the "2 girls" during a sickness-induced snow day, a few tears escaped as a diaper clad baby toddled across the screen.

"What's wrong, Nora?" C asked.

"Oh, nothing," I replied, cuddling them closer.

"You're crying cause you want a baby, huh?" She responded insightfully.

I had to laugh and commend her perceptive nature. Her hugs were just the thing to remind me to be thankful for all the time I get to spend with other people's children.

I'm not saying that it isn't difficult to be in the situation I am in, it is. But on days when I'm down, it's nice to know that even little people that aren't mine love me. That's a big consolation. So is reading things by other women who share my sorrow.

Please visit the links below if you or someone you know has had similar experiences.

http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/parenting/on-lisa-lings-new-website-women-find-ways-to-cope-with-tragedy-2429017/

http://www.secretsocietyofwomen.com/

On Monitor madness

Baby monitors freak me out. I don't trust them. I worry they aren't working right and I'm not hearing something. The constant hiss they give off annoys me and what's worse? Those disembodied voices you hear when the signals somehow get crossed.

Picture it, naptime. Approximately 3:30pm. A is slated to wake in the near future. My ears perk up when I hear a rustle from the monitor. It is almost inaudible, but snippets of talking filter through. She has a habit of chattering to herself for a bit before she starts calling for me. However, I am surprised by her choice of words. I swear the little Jewish princess just said, "Jesus." I listen harder, more mumbles and rustles. I walk to the table and turn the montior up. Out blasts the clear voice of an obvious shiksa,

"And Jesus said...It's all predicted here in the bible."

Chuckling to myself I stalk up the stairs to find the curly haired baby girl playing with stuffed animals in her bed, wide awake and waiting for me. Let me reiterate, I don't trust baby monitors.

On Expressions of Anger/Frustration or Impersonations

"Norie, Norie, it's not a scowl! It's like Superman!"

"No, no! Change to my Batman."

"I don't know Batman. This is Diego. Go Diego go!"

On nanny.nora Fail

I make mistakes. Gasp! I know you're surprised I'm admitting this, but it's true. I try to always be 4 steps ahead of my charges. I attempt to for see all the possible outcomes of whatever choice we are making. I find this is the best way to prevent melt-downs and serious injuries. However, I will admit that this does lead me to be on the more strict side of controlling what the kids do. Maybe when they aren't my kids I can let go a bit more, but since I'd like to avoid lawsuits, I try to bring everyone home in one piece. ;-)

I was feeling adventurous the other day while picking the triplets up from preschool. There was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. They were wearing their snow boots. They asked, nay BEGGED, me to let them stomp around in the snow for a bit before we went home. Normally I would have said no. It was late, they were hungry and tired, and nap time was fast approaching. However, one of their friends was already enjoying the whiteness, so I gave in, thinking we'd strip off any wet clothes as soon as we got home...should anyone take a tumble. Little did I know, it would be more complicated than that.

They were all bundled up, but sans gloves. It went well for about 3 min. Then R fell. He shook it off and continued stomping. Phew. I thought I'd dodged the bullet. Their friend took a tumble next and began to cry about how cold HIS glove-less hands were. Then all heck broke loose. Within 30 seconds I had all 3 babies crying and snowy-up-the-back as they all slipped and fell on their butts. I tried distraction. I tried making it funny and telling them to shake it off. No luck. The boys wanted me to pick them up. A was heading to the car alone. It was chaos. I slipped one of my gloves on each of the boys hands in the hopes that would appease them. They  cried cause I didn't stop to put their fingers in the holes. They cried harder cause they each only had one glove. A was content with my scarf wrapped around her neck, but getting the 3 of them to the car was insane! From then until nap time everyone was whiny and sensitive. I had to laugh. Try to do something nice and it always comes back to bite you in the tush.

Oh well. Next time, no gloves = no snow. And now you know. nanny.nora makes mistakes too.

On Jesus and The Law

One day H and I were sitting quietly next to each other on the floor of the living room. He turned to me abruptly and said:

"I don't believe in justice."

For the life of me I couldn't figure out what he meant. I was new to this family and still hadn't really gotten to know them.

"You mean you don't believe in the legal system? Like judges and people going to jail?" I queried.

"No, no." He scolded. "Justice. Justice Christ."

I had to laugh at that one. Apparently this little Jewish boy was quite concerned about our differing religious beliefs.

On Other Blogs With Great Ideas: Episode 1, Rain Gutter Book Shelves

I love reading blogs about all types of things--crafts, cooking, kids, adults...the list goes on and on. There are some really crafty people out there and while I am generally too lazy to try these things, I like to read about them. I like to imagine that some day I will find the time and energy (and KIDS) to do them for. :-)

This blog has a great idea for making clever book shelves from rain gutters. I love that they provide kids with a great view of the front covers of the books they hold. I think this really aids children in choosing a book in direct relation to the visual stimulation of the cover art. (How's that for fancy talk about the pretty pictures on the front?) ;-)

Also, I think these shelves would be terrific for getting little helpers to clean up. It might be easier for tiny fingers to pile books in this way rather than a standard spine-out style.

So if you are looking for a nifty way to organize your books, check this out!

http://www.mamanotes.com/2010/06/how-to-make-rain-gutter-bookshelves.html

On Flattery

We all know kids can be cruel. Even if it is just by accident as they are young and unfamiliar with the word "tact." Fortunately all of my charges have delightful parents to steer them in the right direction. Having a wife and 2 daughters has taught the father of one of my previous families well. As shown below in a picture of my check the week he was tasked to write it, he bravely demonstrates the phrase: "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Mary Poppins. It's a nickname I proudly enjoy.

On New Music

My dearest friend is an accomplished pianist who specializes in avant garde modern music. Please check out his website here:
http://matthewmccright.org/
His cd "Second Childhood is" amazing!

I often try to share my interests with my charges, so I saw a link to a video of Matt playing recently and began to check it out. As I expected, the curious big kids pressed around me trying to see the tiny screen. I let D hold it to take this picture.

We were watching this video and it's almost 15 min long. They listened to every moment in rapt attention.



Then I text Matt:

"The babies and I are watching your Rothko video on my iPod. They're enrapturd. R keeps saying "That's very loud."  A says, "we have a piano!" and D says, "shhh, I'm listening."

I think Matt has some new fans...

On Parroting

This afternoon at lunch, D picked up his cracker, gingerly lifted it to his ear and said: "Hello, Cs...?"

His inflection was perfect. His casual cheerfulness mimicked my phone voice perfectly. I laughed and remembered all the other things I've heard the triplets repeat after me...after their mother and father...and especially after their older brother. Some of them haven't been so good. There are many times we have to remind each other: "we don't say naughty words."

If I'm honest, I have a bit of a foul mouth in real life, but thankfully I have no problem keeping it out of the workplace. I've heard what an angry expletive slip up repeated in a tiny toddler voice sounds like. It's hard not to laugh. But what amazes me more is how adept they are at picking up the usage of words. They may have no idea what it means, but when they can't get the lid of the toy bucket back on that certain demand for God to enact banishment falls out with excelling verbal ire.

We can't be perfect. There will be times when we regret what we say, whether it be a four letter word or something as simple as "I don't care." However, it's imperative to keep in mind they are always listening. And they'll probably repeat EXACTLY the phrase you hoped they didn't hear.

On Pets

You might not like what I'm going to say next. Please avert your eyes if you are a pet lover and want to retain a semblance of respect and love for nanny.nora. I am not a HUGE pet fan. (GASP!) Don't get me wrong. I like a nice snuggle with a cat or dog, but only on my timetable. Like when I can wash my hands or clothes soon after. READ: Allergies and germ/dirt phobia. (I know that's funny coming from someone who deals in snot and poo all day.) Thankfully most of the houses I have worked are kept uber clean and my slight allergies are held at bay with a Claritan and direct-pet-contact-hand-washing. However, since animals, much like children, are never predictable, having a pet in the house is often like adding another kid into the mix. (I should totally be getting pet-pay!) ;-)

My first pet-ercise was the butterscotch lab of the twin boys household. His worst crime was not immediately rushing back in when I called him from outside and barking at the littlest sound. He was kind of a scared-y-dog. (Imagine Scooby Doo, but less cartoony and he didn't talk.) In general he was well behaved around food and the kids, but his high strung nature didn't allow me to relax at all.

The house I currently work in has a collection of pets to contend with. There is the cat. He avoids us at all cost and he loves to terrorize the dog. (It's HYSTERICAL). Honestly, I don't see him till nap time when he comes to get a little rub down and slinks off to sleep in the sun. Our relationship works. My cat allergies are the worst and to be honest, since seeing Cat's Eye, feline's kinda freak me out, so I can totally deal with a little nap time pet and his total domination of the dog. Ah...the dog. This creature is trouble with a capital T. The first day I worked there he wouldn't stop humping my arm while I sat on the floor playing with the children. Within the first week he threw up 5 times (in one day!) and he succeeded in licking an explosive poop out of the high chair. In my almost 2 years with The Cs he has eaten countless diapers and stolen food from plates, hands, and counter-tops. He is a terribly sweet dog, but his misbehavior rivals his disposition with a vengeance.

So the long and short of it is, nanny.nora is all about fish and things that live in cages as pets. If they are loud, make me sneeze, fight trolls who want to steal my soul, or eat the sandwich off my plate, then we're gonna have some issues. ;-)

On Halloween Treats

Yes, it's December and we're still sorting our way through Halloween candy. It's not difficult to imagine that with 4 children in the family the loot is never ending. I think the parents even sifted through and got rid of some stuff! Either way, R, requested a Halloween treat for dessert the other night. His mother jokingly inquired about the status of his love for candy and he replied:

"I'm not sick of Halloween treats. It's good for us!"

That kid comes up with the best one liners...

On Manual Labor

In working as a nanny I have come to realize 

the main reason why people actually have kids. 

Two words: Manual Labor. ;-)

 D

 R

 D

A

Before the snow flies any more I wanted to share some pictures of how we spent a fine fall afternoon. The triplets endured a good hour transporting leaves by toy dump truck to our large disposal pile with minimal fuss. There were a few squabbles and a couple "run through the piles" breaks, but all in all we got quite a bit accomplished and we had fun. Fun and exercise, not a bad way to make a game out of a chore.

On Birthdays (nanny.nora edition)

nanny.nora was once a little person too. She was willful. Stubborn. Loud. She liked Cabbage Patch Dolls and Popples. Many times she was scared of sleeping alone in the dark and was often put in the red rocker after church for misbehaving. She had a pink blankey and sucked her thumb. She was little and she was loved.

I am not so little anymore. Today I turn 32. But I still get to play with toys. And be silly. And make mistakes. I'm pretty much the same, only taller.

On "Who's your Nanny?"

D mentioned the word 'baby-sitter' today at lunch. I'm not sure if they were talking about it at preschool or what, but it's not a word we've discussed much. Until today...

nanny.nora: "D, who's your babysitter?"

He confidently points to his brother and sister.

"Those two," he says.

"We're not babies!" A chimes in defiantly.

Using their current choice of politically correct term, I ask:

"Ok, then who's your big kid sitter?"

A points to her brothers, "That one and that one."

After 2 and a half years, she still can't tell them apart.
(We'll save THAT topic for later) :-)

"Are you sure?" I queried.

Ever the A+ student she smiles and responds in a singsongy voice:

"No, you are Norie!"

To her dismay and my delight, the third musketeer, R, came up with the best answer of all.

"No, Sissy," he said seriously. "You're our Nanny, Norie!"

On Toddler Power Struggles

R: "I'm in charge."

n.n: (gives him a pointed, questioning look)

R: (a bit subdued, but with a tiny hint of smile) "No, Norie...you're in charge."

Both of us erupt in giggles and he tackles me with a huge hug. They may pretend to be the big kids on campus, but I think they know where their bread is buttered. OR more to the point, WHO butters their bread. ;-)

On Sleepy Time Loveys

It is not uncommon for children to have an attachment to a certain blanket or stuffed animal. These items can provide comfort and confidence when kids are feeling vulnerable. My experience has been that where there is a lovey, there is a thumb sucker. I'm sure this rule doesn't always hold true, but it did for me. Yes, I admit to all of the interweb, I am a thumb sucker. No, I technically don't suck my thumb currently, but I speak in present tense because it is still a part of my history. Though I find no comfort in it now, having sucked my thumb off and on til practically 13 years old, it is still sometimes an instinct when I am feeling particularly stressed or anxious. I even admit to (in desperation) having tried it later in life, but after so many years without, it really doesn't have the same calming effect.

Anyway, back to my kids and their loveys. (We'll continue the thumb sucking talk at a later date.) So these loveys come in many shapes and sizes. There have been a menagerie of cats, an ostrich, lions, tigers, and bears. (Oh my!) These  animals hold a particular importance at sleep times throughout the day. Hence, nanny.nora is a bit strict about daytime removal of loveys from beds. Why? Is it because I'm mean? No... Is it because I like to make kids suffer? No... Honestly, and it may be a selfish reason, but my thoughts are if you bring it out to play you are 100% more likely to lose track of it come nap or bedtime. If nanny.nora hasn't been around all day to see what little corner it got tucked into, there is no chance of my finding with when we REALLY need it. As if it's not stressful enough for kids to be without the comfort of a parent at these uncertain times, they (and I) don't need the stress of a missing lovey that might make the difference between a bumpy bedtime and a severely turbulent and tear-filled one.

Case in point, when I worked for the family of twin boys, each had a matching set of lovey blankets. They were animal heads, elephant and tiger, attached to a little blanket. Each of the boys had two. (This often happens when parents buy 2 of the same loveys to have a "washing time" back up, but somehow the kids always end up with both.)  Bed time came and M was missing 1 of his tiger loveys. We searched high and low. Upstairs. Downstairs. Every toy bucket in the house. Every possible place I could think of -- bathrooms, under couch cushions. And it was a BIG house. I made it a game and we all worked together (thankfully avoiding tears) but unfortunately the second tiger lovey never turned up. I pride myself on being a master of distraction. (A skill every nanny must master.) And I was able to get both boys to bed with minimal sadness and only 1 lovey a piece. Their mother later contacted me with the happy news that Tiger #2 had been located in the infrequently used salad spinner under the sink. Who knows how it ended up there, but yeah, this solidified my opinion that sleepy time loveys live in beds all day and play a night while the kids rest.

Like everything on this blog, it's just my opinion, but it works best for all involved.
Love your nanny, let your kids love their loveys IN BED.

On Cloth Diapers

I've had the opportunity to use both cloth and regular diapers. To be honest, the changing of a cloth diaper isn't all that different from a regular one. I mean, a gross diaper is a pain no matter what you catch it in. ;-) That said, my main complaint about the cloth variety are the clips used to secure them.  The family of 1 boy and a girl used t-shaped clips like this. (Though not as fancy and colorful)

What is not shown is the ace-bandage-esque clip used to claw the flaps of the diaper and hold it in place. These were my trouble. First of all, they were sharp (Duh! Kind of have to be to serve the purpose) and if they accidentally slipped out of your grasp, on account of say...a squirming baby, they most likely ended up snagging on your finger. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I don't like the thought of accidentally catching a sweet little cherub faced angel with one of those, cause it sure smarts! So I was always very careful to put my digits at risk, and of course, all my nerves and care caused me to have this accident even more than had I just relaxed and did it. (I'm a worrier, what can I say?)

So that's my beef with cloth diapers. I've never had to launder them, so I don't know about that aspect, but this painful one soured me a bit on the idea. I often imagine the impact it might have on the environment and the money I could save by using them, but then my sister-in-law reminds me of the cost of detergent as well as water and then I'm unsure if cloth really does trump Huggies or Pampers.

I've had a bit of practice with them now, but knowing myself as well as I do, I'm guessing I'll go the easy route.

On Giving Thanks - A Craft

My Current family, 3 boys and a girl or The Cs, have this wonderful tradition that occurs over dinner. They often go around the table and say what they are thankful for. Mind you, this is not done only during November or at Thanksgiving, but many a meal I have shared with The Cs has included this delightful conversation. The responses can be silly or serious, but everyone gets a turn and we smile and laugh and really enjoy each others company. With this thought in mind, R, D, and A helped me to complete this craft in order to decorate for Thanksgiving.

(I should have taken pictures of each step and made this post a tutorial, but it's a bit self explanitory.)

My prep work included collecting leaves and tracing the shapes onto colored construction paper. Then I cut those and the half moons out of white paper plates.

Next I asked each of the children what they were thankful for and wrote the items on their leaves. (This project might have been a bit above their skill level since I had to do most of the work, but they still had fun. They LOVED the gluing.)

Next I helped each of them attach the leaves with a glues stick. (Note: I had to go back and add a little Elmer's to really get them to stay.)

All in all a productive way to spend an hour.

On Crying

In my line of work you hear a lot of crying. And whining. And begging. Each child develops their own voice, even though they don't initially speak words. One of the first sonic emissions I become accustomed to when I meet a child is the "mommy don't leave me!" cry. I remember my first experience with this type of wail. I was 9 years old. (Back where it all began, but with a different set of cousins.) K, to me, was the first "baby" cousin on my Dad's side. There were plenty of older ones, but she became the object of my affection--someone to cuddle and take care of like a "Betsy Wetsy" doll, but heavier. Her cherub face and pink cheeks were like porcelain and I doted on her endlessly. Unfortunately, we didn't see each other THAT much, so when she was old enough to associate my face with "not my mother's face," I heard the wail. You could see her gear up for it. At first there was a brief moment of surprise, then realization. The eyes would wrinkle at the corners. Her chest would heave with the depth of breath. Her mouth would open and...

"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...."

The cry erupted, lost in a roll of the tongue, worthy of the "rrrruffles have rrrridges" baby.



I remember vividly when she began to crawl. Hopelessly chasing her mother from room to room, with me close behind. It was adorable. She's a beautiful young woman these days, but I'll never forget her as a tired infant with her cherub face, sweet curls, and wicked linguistic skills.

The next blog-worthy cry comes from a little boy I only watched on occasion. Though our time together was short, his cry cannot be forgotten. When his mom left I would hear this:



Hence, he is forever known as Chewbacca. (A nickname put in place by his own mother, no less!)

Every child has their own way of expressing themselves. It's up to us to interpret them.

On Famous Spanish Cartoon Stars or Cases of Mistaken Identity

This was a few years ago, one of the jobs I held before my current position...

It was my first day of work at the house of 2 little girls. The younger, E, was a huge fan of that lovable chica Dora the Explorer with her short black bob and catchy "Lo hicimos" song. Her parents had been preparing her for my arrival all week. (I'm sure you can guess where this is going.)

"Are you ready for Nora to come play with you?" They asked as my arrival was imminent. She was estatic! Ready to show me every toy she owned, especially her Dora backpack. When I entered the front door she was seated on the couch in her dad's lap. We made eye contact and I smiled and said "Hi E!" She buried her head in her dad's chest. The only thing I could make out in her teary little voice was:

 "That's not Dora!"

On Priceless Gifts

I received the best gift in church recently. It was painful in a way, but ultimately exactly what I needed.

I love how my church does baptisms. After all the prayers and pouring on of water, the pastor takes the child in his arms and brings him up and down the aisles introducing everyone to the newest child of God.

He says: "Well, (insert child's name), this is your new family." He walks to the Sunday school class in the front row, "these are your brothers and sisters." As he meanders through the congregation he whispers, "these are your aunts and uncles." And finally he jokes, "this is your choir, they get upset if we don't introduce them too."

Yesterday, as the pastor was ushering around this 5 month old bundle that shares my brother's name, he stopped at the edge of my pew. The child was aware. Dressed in his finery, he was taking it all in. We made eye contact and held it. One beat, two, then three...as I looked into his big brown eyes and smiled, his serious face erupted in a huge grin that was just for me. My arms ached to hold him, but I know he is not mine to have. Even as my heart throbbed, it swelled at the small moment that was ours alone. Sometimes, in my line of work, a smile is the greatest reward.

On Asking Permission

Even nannies have to ask permission once in a while. Ok, actually ALL the time. I mean, we are practically living in someone else's home and making major decisions regarding the welfare of their children. Communication is obviously key to keeping not only the parents and children happy, but your nanny as well. Thankfully I have always had a very good rapport with the parents of my charges. I would even dare to call many of them my friends. That being said, it is not surprising that I mentioned the idea of starting this blog to the mother of the family I currently work for. She laughed. (I have made this statement before, "I really need to start a blog...") But this time I was serious. She seemed agreeable to the idea joking:

"You can start a blog, but only if I'm not really mean in it."

Not only did she say this once, but I kid you not, at LEAST 3 times. I think she's really worried I have lots of dirty laundry to share. ;-) I just might, but I really want this blog to be about me and the kids, as well as all the funny things they we do. I certainly might mention amusing parental faux pas, like the time a certain father took a certain 7 year old to Hooters for lunch, but I promise to put a positive spin on it. (We'll discuss THAT one in a future post.) Besides! I'm trying to be as respectful as I can with people's identities here, so even if you did let your kids play with the electric screw driver and all the dangerous "non-toys" in your tool box, no one but you really needs to know about that choice. ;-)

So, permission asked, and seemingly permission granted. As of this moment, I have no reason to portray the mother of "3 boys and a girl" in anything but a glowing light. I do reserve the right to change my opinion (every good writer must), but I doubt it's going to change any time soon.

On Careers

I have been baby-sitting since I was 9. First it was my cousin-neighbors' 1 year old and infant. I'd play with the toddler and fuss over the sleeping infant in the bassinet as their mother took care of other housework. I was in charge. (Even though she was nearby should catastrophe strike.) It was like my baby-dolls had come to life. Though my degrees in life would lead me to another profession entirely (music), I have considered myself a professional nanny for about 7 years. (With Clearances and CPR certification to boot!) It's been about that long that I've been having conversations such as the following:

Over breakfast with the (then) 6 year old son of the family I currently work for.

"Is this a meteorite, Norie?" He asked nochalantly turning (what looked to be a piece of driveway asphalt) over in his small hand.

"I don't know buddy." I said, both unsure about the nature of the rock and not wanting to put him off too quickly.

"I think it's a metoerite." He concluded firmly.

Encouraging him jokingly, I responded: "It might be! I really don't know. I'm a musician not a scientist."

Without missing a beat, his seriously excited little eyes found my face and inquired, "Hey! If you're a magician, can you pull a rabbit out of your hat?

I laughed loudly and replied: I'm a MUSician not a MAGician!

Introduction

My name is Nora. I have an addiction--kids. That said, I worry what sort of readers I'll attract. (Sad, but true.) Guess I'll take my chances. Now, back to my problem. I'm in love with the smiles, the chubby little cheeks, the hugs, and even the tantrums. Yes, in case you didn't guess, I'm a professional nanny, and I love my job. Every day my charges love me, frustrate me, make me laugh, and continually inspire me. This is our story.