Let me give you a little run down, y'all.
Snooze
Snooze
Snooze
Hair up/Yesterday's clothes on.
Smooch the B
Bike Bike Bike
Coffee Coffee Internet Ellen
Baby 1 dressing, diapering, bottling
Baby 1 throws a lot of toys. A lot.
Wake up Baby 2.
Jogging stroller grocery store uphill madness
2 birds 1 blog
Tori & Dean Marathon
Baby food everywhere
String cheese induced temper tantrum
Baby 2 nap FAIL
More toy throwing
Baby slap fight
It is now 2:49.
Goddammit.
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
I just want to go home.
It can be incredibly frustrating to be a nanny, and not just because there are babies there, also because of their parents. More specifically, when the opinions of the nanny and the parents don't match up, and one is not willing to give in to the other. This is the fifth day in a row of Baby 2 not being able to lie down and take a nap, despite how tired she is. This is a skill she had previously acquired, and has now disappeared. As someone who has spent eight years looking after babies, and knows this one's mother, its pretty easy to narrow down what the problem is. She's picking her up when she cries. I have had more than one loooooooong conversation with Baby-2-Mom about this. Picking up a baby from what should be a nap because she's crying only teaches her that if she cries, she is going to get picked up. Not a lesson you want your baby to learn, as you'll NEVER GET HER TO NAP AGAIN. I watched Baby-2-Mom commit this very crime on Thursday morning. My head almost exploded. Especially since it took me multiple lectures and several books on baby sleep (which she used to confirm my theories that she can't comfort her obviously devasatingly ailed child...) to get her to actually leave her in the crib and let her learn to self soothe. And now, here I am, on an effing Friday afternoon listening to her scream her face off, because she thinks that if she keeps it up, I'm going to come and get her eventually, just like her Mom does.
New moms out there, listen to your nanny. You hired her for a reason. She knows what she's doing. You're the mom, but she's the expert. And unless she's suggesting you hang your baby out the window by her toes, whatever she's saying to you is most likely in the best interest of you and your baby, even if it seems hard, or a little cruel. I understand its hard to hear your baby cry and not go comfort her, but raising a kid is going to be full of crying, and a whole lot of those tears will be tantrum tears if you're not careful.
New moms out there, listen to your nanny. You hired her for a reason. She knows what she's doing. You're the mom, but she's the expert. And unless she's suggesting you hang your baby out the window by her toes, whatever she's saying to you is most likely in the best interest of you and your baby, even if it seems hard, or a little cruel. I understand its hard to hear your baby cry and not go comfort her, but raising a kid is going to be full of crying, and a whole lot of those tears will be tantrum tears if you're not careful.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Thursday day.
It figures that the one day I decide to leave my sketchbook at home is the day that i magically have all of these ideas and really want pencil and paper. And I garun-damn-tee you that theverysecond i get home and have access to my sketchbook again, I won't want it. I'll have forgotten all of the ideas that are popping out of my head right now. Isn't that always the way?
Its Thursday, and I'm pretty excited for the week to end. I've got two babies back as of today. I haven't had Miss Mobile Baby for a little bit now as she's been on vacation. She's a ton of fun, but she makes my day much more active because rather than playing with a stationary baby, I spend all day chasing her around the house as she attempts to pull down and destroy everything within 2 feet of the floor.
I haven't been taking any pictures since London because I've been sick, but I have a huge desire for my camera today. Which I also left at home. Well, here are some more of my fave photos from overseas anyways. That girl's fur head wrap/hat thinger made my whole day. I would wear the crap out of that thing.
Its Thursday, and I'm pretty excited for the week to end. I've got two babies back as of today. I haven't had Miss Mobile Baby for a little bit now as she's been on vacation. She's a ton of fun, but she makes my day much more active because rather than playing with a stationary baby, I spend all day chasing her around the house as she attempts to pull down and destroy everything within 2 feet of the floor.
I haven't been taking any pictures since London because I've been sick, but I have a huge desire for my camera today. Which I also left at home. Well, here are some more of my fave photos from overseas anyways. That girl's fur head wrap/hat thinger made my whole day. I would wear the crap out of that thing.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Go to hell thursday.
Let me paint you a little picture. I am at work, minding my own business, enjoying the half and hour I'm going to get today without Baby 1 attacking something, because she's unconscious. Baby 2 is sitting happily in her highchair methodically destroying a rice cake (I'm convinced she likes pulling them apart systematically much more than actually eating them, and I can't blame her.)
So, there I am. Baby 2's aunt, whom I have never met before, is on her way over to take Baby 2 for a walk. Fine. No problem. By my math, that's one less baby. At this point I should mention that I work in two apartments, different ones on different days of the week. Today, I was in Baby 2's apartment, where there is a dog. A dog that I am hereafter going to refer to as "Dumb Dog." Dumb Dog likes to bark loudly when the doorbell rings, and run out of the apartment, down the front stairs of the building, and outside, where she proceeds to frolic in the bushes and refuse to come inside until I find a meaty enough bribe. I am not keen on this situation. Therefore, when I have to answer the front door, I shut the apartment door behind me, so as to avoid that whole mess.
I bet you can see where this is going. Aunt rings doorbell, dog barks, Andrea sighs, gets up, shuts door, welcomes Aunt, reaches apartment door, turns knob...door is locked. Yes, that's right, for the FIRST TIME IN EIGHT MONTHS THE DOOR HANDLE WAS LOCKED. And yes, in case you were wondering, both Baby 1 and Baby 2 were still inside.
Every nanny who's worth her salt KNOWS there's no way this isn't going to happen to her one day. Honestly, I can't believe I've made it two years without doing this at least once. And now I was faced with the truth...I had to call the Worry Mom. Worry Moms are essentially, perfectly nice, normal human beings, who had children and went ballistic. They become so OCD and anal retentive and neurotic I'm surprised they remember to breathe. Under normal circumstances, its the nanny's job both to put up with all of this "OhmygodIhadababy...You're going to BREAK IT" energy without slapping anyone, and comfort and guide Worry Mom through this new baby time. "Its okay Worry Mom, the baby is okay, you're okay, its all okay, put that book down, I don't care what it says, it isn't helping...that one too." So instead of further reaffirming in this woman's mind that I am in fact perfectly capable of caring for her one and only child, I had to call her at work and say "...I locked myself out of the apartment..." To which she says, "Wait...are you telling me my baby is alone in the apartment? Alone?!" "Yes, but she's in the highchair, safe, I can see her through the window, and she's fine." Of course I'm not even sure she was still on the phone by the time I finished that sentence, I think she was already outside hailing a cab. What a nightmare. A nightmare that ends with me hearing "Don't forget your keys!" at every juncture for the rest of time.
And when I got home I found a jury duty letter.
So, there I am. Baby 2's aunt, whom I have never met before, is on her way over to take Baby 2 for a walk. Fine. No problem. By my math, that's one less baby. At this point I should mention that I work in two apartments, different ones on different days of the week. Today, I was in Baby 2's apartment, where there is a dog. A dog that I am hereafter going to refer to as "Dumb Dog." Dumb Dog likes to bark loudly when the doorbell rings, and run out of the apartment, down the front stairs of the building, and outside, where she proceeds to frolic in the bushes and refuse to come inside until I find a meaty enough bribe. I am not keen on this situation. Therefore, when I have to answer the front door, I shut the apartment door behind me, so as to avoid that whole mess.
I bet you can see where this is going. Aunt rings doorbell, dog barks, Andrea sighs, gets up, shuts door, welcomes Aunt, reaches apartment door, turns knob...door is locked. Yes, that's right, for the FIRST TIME IN EIGHT MONTHS THE DOOR HANDLE WAS LOCKED. And yes, in case you were wondering, both Baby 1 and Baby 2 were still inside.
Every nanny who's worth her salt KNOWS there's no way this isn't going to happen to her one day. Honestly, I can't believe I've made it two years without doing this at least once. And now I was faced with the truth...I had to call the Worry Mom. Worry Moms are essentially, perfectly nice, normal human beings, who had children and went ballistic. They become so OCD and anal retentive and neurotic I'm surprised they remember to breathe. Under normal circumstances, its the nanny's job both to put up with all of this "OhmygodIhadababy...You're going to BREAK IT" energy without slapping anyone, and comfort and guide Worry Mom through this new baby time. "Its okay Worry Mom, the baby is okay, you're okay, its all okay, put that book down, I don't care what it says, it isn't helping...that one too." So instead of further reaffirming in this woman's mind that I am in fact perfectly capable of caring for her one and only child, I had to call her at work and say "...I locked myself out of the apartment..." To which she says, "Wait...are you telling me my baby is alone in the apartment? Alone?!" "Yes, but she's in the highchair, safe, I can see her through the window, and she's fine." Of course I'm not even sure she was still on the phone by the time I finished that sentence, I think she was already outside hailing a cab. What a nightmare. A nightmare that ends with me hearing "Don't forget your keys!" at every juncture for the rest of time.
And when I got home I found a jury duty letter.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
all I desire in the world, is for you to be quiet.
Sometimes, as a nanny, you have days when you reach the end of your rope at nine-thirty in the morning. I am having one such day today. The girls started out the day with an apparent "screw you" to me, and then proceeded to take turns screaming. All. Day. Now its two hours until I get to leave and run to Target with Lindsay for solace. (In case you didn't know, Target makes everything better.)
I also just found out that I am going to be starting a job search again shortly, which I have mixed feelings about. Trying to find a job is exhausting and mysterious to me. Where do people find jobs? Half of the people I know have their jobs by accident, and the other half have them because they knew someone, who knew someone, who got them the job. I feel I have spent enough time trying to get through mis-labelled craigslist postings that turn out to be for waitresses, adult dancers, and unpaid interns for one lifetime. Somebody start paying me to make stuff for them! I want to work on commission from my secret cabin in the woods that nobody knows about, where no one screams at me all day and then falls over in a fit of baby fury.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
January?
I wrote this first post last month, in prep for starting a blog , which I didn't do until now. But I still like the sound of it, so:
January in Boston can be rough. Its when nice, pleasant winter can turn into windy, 15 degrees, cloudy for two weeks straight winter, and its hard to like that, even for me. In an attempt to move forward, and get closer to that studio-filled cabin in the woods, I am re-opening my etsy shop, now with a much wider variety of wares. I'm not only going to be selling my crocheted winter-warming articles, but also vintage clothes, and prints of both my photography, and my paintings and drawings. (Although I just got it back up yesterday, and I only have a few things in there this minute...)
I've been doing a lot of blog surfing lately, mainly thanks to a beautiful little firefox add-on called Stumble Upon. You fill in your preferences of things you're interested in looking at on the internet, and then you hit the Stumble! button and it directs you to random websites based on your criteria. You can also stumble within certain predetermined websites, one of which is blogspot. Which brings me to all of the recent blog surfing. I have found so many amazing blogs dedicated to everything from design to photography (My favorite right now is A Cup of Jo. I'm in the midst of going back and reading through all of her archives...) What I discovered also, is that there is an abundance of artists online, who are promoting their work with their blogs. They have these great photo/life/design/personal interest/fashion blogs where they also post about updates in their online stores, or their latest works. I need more exposure, and I would love to be able to sell some of my stuff, and thereby, work less, and eventually (way waaay in the future) not at all.
I am currently working as a nanny. I take care of two 8-month-old girls (see above), they make me laugh and bum me out. For instance, I just had to go deal with baby Z, who spontaneously turned purple in the face and started screaming like i was burning her with acid. This is a baby's response to being tired. I understand, and can translate and justify for you many, many things about babies and their behavior, which to a normal human being who doesn't spend their days with poopy diapers and pacifiers, seem crazy. Freaking out when tired is not one of them. I will NEVER understand this. If you're tired, GO TO SLEEP. No one's stopping you, in fact, most of us are probably encouraging your frequent napping. Why would you throw this back in my face? Sleep! Sleep damn you! Don't scream about it! If someone told me that every time I felt sleepy, they would give ma a snack and carry me off to my waiting bed, I would make out with them.
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