Farewell nanny

It all went down in the parking lot of the B of A, where I had withdrawn the nanny's final pay for the two days in the past two weeks that she has actually shown up. I waited and waited, telling myself that I would never have to wait for her again. She finally pulled up, and we had that awkward goodbye that is inevitable when firing someone.

It was a sad moment. I really liked the nanny as a person, and she was wonderful with the kids. She just wasn't at all reliable. She was supposed to be here at 9:30 yesterday morning, and she called at 9:32 to say she was sick. We've had this talk so many times before, because she's done this so many times before. It wasn't a first, second, or third warning. It was the final straw, and I was the camel. It sounds like such a small thing - she didn't call to tell me she was sick at least an hour before she was supposed to be here, per our agreement. But it was on the heels of countless other events, like coming in 3 hours late without a courtesy phone call. There have been days that I have sat here and wondered if she died on her way to work. And having an unreliable nanny kind of defeats the purpose of having a nanny at all. It's made it impossible to schedule interviews or meetings with my editors. I never know when she is going to show up.

Several months ago, a friend looked at me and said, "Which is worse, flaky nanny or no nanny?" I guess I've made my decision. No nanny is better than flaky nanny. At least I know I don't have childcare lined up, rather than wondering if I do. So Emil is going to join Esme at her daycare as there are openings. Meanwhile, I'll continue this incredibly frustrating juggling act of being an active, involved parent while trying to maintain my own career. It almost seems easier to just quit my freelance work and focus solely on parenting, but that would be just as frustrating.

The truth is that parenting involves sacrifices. But I look at my baby boy, who gives me the biggest grin in the world and then crawls toward me at top speed, and I hear Esme say, "I love you, Mommy" as she throws her arms around me, and I know that this is so worth it.