Mornings With Catherine: Responding/Manners

Here's the thing. I am surprisingly patient towards a lot of boondogglery, mostly because I'm a difficult human being myself, especially in the morning, and I feel it's not fair to judge someone who just woke up, but when something annoys me its like nails on a chalkboard. Example? Catherine's puppy noises.

I get it. Its 7am, it's abnormally cold in her mom’s house, and she would rather not be bossed around or asked questions. But ignoring me when I talk/acting like I don't exist OR responding with pouts, wiggles, and I really don't know what to call it other than sad puppy noises makes me CRAZY.

And here is really issue number two... When Catherine's mom isn't there I'd turn off the TV and boot camp this *ish but given that her mom responds to everything as if Catherine is fatally injured, nothing gets done when she is there. It makes the entire morning process impossible and we end up cramming everything into the last 5 minutes before we leave for school.

I suppose this is more of an AM venting session but my point here is that my mother was right. Yea, I said it. Children need to learn respect. They need to learn how to respond to people, especially adults. When I was younger, we had family friends that we called the ‘Bubba Twins’; mainly because we couldn’t tell them apart. They drove my mom nuts because, even as teenagers, they responded to everything with grunting noises. I understand that the children I work with are young but the bottom line is that if people/parents continue to give kids a hall pass on manners until they are the elusive “old enough”, it’s too late.

Mornings With Catherine.

 

This morning, I walked in at 6:45am to Catherine (age: 5) chewing gum with her mouth open and playing video games. I wanted to turn around and walk out. Somehow, I resisted.

Catherine has a certain “je ne sais quoi” about her. We have early morning tiffs over how its impossible to brush your teeth without the use of water, the need to turn off SpongeBob, how a cheese stick is not breakfast, and, of course, the tedious process of getting dressed. She picks out her own clothes and the combinations are priceless.

Some days involve tears. Some hers, some mine.

When I first got the job of taking her to school every morning I was told that she may give me the cold shoulder for a while. I had no idea they meant 3 months of it. The only advice I was given by the previous nanny was that Catherine liked PB&J for breakfast. Um, Ok. Thanks.

For the first few weeks I was lucky if Catherine even spoke to me. I appreciated the silence. I'm not a morning person. I quickly learned how to handle the morning tasks militantly. See the thing about Catherine is that she is a child of divorce. This means several things. One being that they rarely tell her no, because no one wants to be the bad guy, and second being that her parents live in 2 different homes, 5 blocks from each other. We have had several crying runs to the opposite house before school because it's Spirit Day and there's nothing red at her dad's or its gymnastics day and she needs uniform: black leggings (Which is a total lie. There is no "gymnastics uniform". Well, maybe in her head there is.).


Every morning, I come home with a story. Sometimes I think she might be the devil and sometimes she's absolutely hilarious. I'll share them here. Welcome to Mornings with Catherine.
 

I cleaned... Don't be mad?

 

(Imagine this plus dirty dishes, cat hair, and crushed cheerios everywhere)

 

 

Today, I went over to nanny a little boy that I see a few times a month. I take over any hours that the full-time nanny can’t do (Sick days, overtime, etc.). I got there just when his nap had started. The home looked like a bomb went off in it. Toys everywhere, food, cups, plates, mess. Gross. Both the mom and dad were sick and they apparently hadn’t gotten around to chasing a toddler around with a broom and Lysol wipes. The dad said “Sorry about the mess. If it doesn’t bother you, you can just leave it.” Then he left to run errands while the baby and the sick mom napped up stairs. 5 minutes in I couldn’t handle it. It bothered me. I picked up a broom and Lysol and started the process. I swept, did dishes, wiped everything down, and put the toys away before he came back 45 minutes later and caught me red handed. It went like this.

HIM: “Oh you didn’t have to.”
ME: “Oh, it’s ok. I’m a compulsive cleaner.”
HIM: “Oh, well, you know all you have to do is watch Jason, right?”
Me: “Well, yes but he is sleeping.”

He sounded distressed; like I made him feel badly about his house. I was just trying to do my job and help out. It’s not like me to be on the clock and just sit and watch divorce court for 2-3 hours when there are things to be done., regardless of if its within my “responsibilities” or not.

Was I wrong to clean? When IS it wrong to clean?!? What are the responsibilities of a part-time nanny?

Diaper Genie.

Today, at our little Super Bowl party, the woman that inspired this blog thanked me for her Diaper Genie II Elite by Playtex. She said it is by far the best present she got from anyone and she couldn’t be more thankful. She called it a lifesaver. Every new family needs one. Just thought I’d share.

Happy 'You're Fired' Day

 

I originally moved out to Los Angeles in order to pursue personal dreams of mine. The road to that, lead me to the day job of being a nanny, which I LOVE. This is why I juggle several families rather than just becoming a full time nanny for one set of working parents, or shacking up and just having my own. In order to stay sane, I have strict rules to protect everyone from bad situations: I usually only work for stay at home moms who either need me to cover for them while they volunteer or run errands. You may worry that I have a limited market, but don’t you fret, in Los Angeles this is not rare. In the case of Kevin, I choose to work for a mother who was currently in the process of releasing her first novel. The father is an architect. Originally, she only needed me for 9 hours a week: 9am-12pm on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This was perfect for me. I was completely honest in my interview process about the situations that may arise given that I am out here for acting. Auditions and bookings get very little notice and I don’t like to catch people off guard. Cathy, Kevin’s mom, was fine with this and was overwhelming supportive of my goals. Within a week, Cathy decided she needed more hours. So we upped the 9-hour schedule to a 25-hour schedule that required me to keep Kevin on Wednesdays from 9am-6pm and included Saturdays. The house in under renovations, so, we set up a mini-day-care center in my guest bedroom.  (My boyfriend was thrilled.) Cathy made me promise that I wouldn’t move or quit in the near future and made me feel slightly guilty for the finders fee my nanny agency took. I had been working with this company for over a year and never knew the agency fee existed. My boyfriend had to talk me out of offering to split the new nanny’s finders fee if I decided to leave any where between 3-12 months. I finally told her life happens and I really wish I could help but I don’t think I can.

This situation became completely overwhelming for me quickly. I was going to behaviorist specialist with Cathy and Kevin, keeping him for 12 hours straight (meaning a  minimum 15 hours work day for me since I have Catherine every morning), going to doctors appointments, adding in extra hours, occasionally getting ripped off, feeling guilty for the castings I was going on, getting the stomach flu, and all while getting kicked and scratched. 

Don’t get me wrong Kevin’s adorable and everybody loves him but I was exhausted. I tried my best to hide it. I was biting off more than I could chew while I watched the mother waste time and not take advantage of my existence and then listened to her complain about it. I remained beyond supportive of her and we had mini therapy sessions, sometimes, her and sometimes me.

One morning I walked in and Cathy awkwardly started a conversation about needing more hours. My other family had just had a new baby and I’m pretty sure I had been working for 2-3 weeks straight including a few overnights with Lily. I smiled and nodded and told her, “okay”. She told me hat she needed more consistency and with everything I’m doing and she is doing she’s going get someone to work 5 days a week 9-12, aka she’s letting me lose.  I completely understood her situation and didn’t get even remotely upset. It was Monday and she told me my last day would be Friday. Um, ok. She asked if that was enough notice and I nodded while thinking, “Do I have a choice?” The next day I came in and she informed me that she couldn’t find anyone to replace me and was wondering if I could work the following Monday as well. “Sure!” I said politely with a smile on my face. I’m a doormat. After a week of supportive texts and BBMs, from my friends, encouraging me not walk out during some of Kevin’s tantrums; Monday came around. I walked in after taking Kevin to the park as Cathy skipped out of her office. “I have a surprise for you!!” Um ok? I thought. She pulled out a cake. I’m serious. I wanted to stand there silent or say “I didn’t quit, you fired me” but it seemed like she was really excited and I suppose we had some sort of bond, so instead I put a big smile on my face and said “ Oh My Gosh! Thank you! You’re so nice!” She opened up the cake box to a Red Velvet cake that said “Thank You Candace!” on it. I put Kevin down for his nap and we sat and had a mini office party for my Happy You’re Fired Day. I over heard her on the phone bragging that it was only $18 and then she sent me home with the cake. Thanks?

I do appreciate that I meant enough to her for her to want to show some kind of appreciation but I was startled by the entire event: from hired to fired to celebrating. I’m still not sure what to think about it but I wish Cathy, Kevin, and the new nanny all the best.

Maybe I’ll miss those two.

For those who think I made this up.

When Lily Met Dolly

This post is dedicated to my big sister, the FishHead herself. I love you- Tiny Dancer.

Last Monday, Lily became a big sister.

Before Dolly arrived, Lily grew to know and like the term “Big Sister. It sounded like something exciting. She got the idea of a “big sister” from the ‘New Big Sister’ book we had read over and over and OVER with her in the previous weeks. She knew something was up lately, her mom was bigger and she became aware that there was something going on with the furniture in the house. A big girl bed had been ordered for her, she recently received a new white dresser that blew her mind, and her old furniture was being crammed into Daddy’s office. Other than that life was continuing as normal.

I had Lily from Sunday night until Wednesday morning last week; allowing for Mommy and Daddy to stay at the hospital with out worry. On Monday they text messaged me that it was a girl! (They waited until birth to find out the gender of the baby. I don’t know how they could handle waiting for such information. I had a really difficult time.) I had taken Lily out to lunch with my boyfriend and literally screamed as I said “Lily! You have a baby sister!! Her name is Dolly!” She looked at me and said “Oh nay (yes). Baby Holly! Maybe icy cone?” The only thing that sounded remotely exciting to her was the prospects of the ice cream store next door. I decided what the heck, lets celebrate.

The next day her parents had asked me to bring her to the hospital. My mom, and older sister, told me that the important thing was making this feel special for Lily. I took her to Target to pick out some newborn gifts for baby Dolly. She chose a “Little Sister” onsie, a singing toy, and two “big balloons” one of Thomas the Train and one of a baby chick. Saying things like “Oh nay! This is a great one!” or “For baby Holly?!” as we perused the isles of her new favorite place. I got her a cupcake shirt to wear the day they came home and wrapped everything up. I let Lily dress herself for the hospital. She wore a pink ‘Big Sister’ t-shirt, a pink tutu from her Halloween costume, ruffled socks, and black party shoes. She felt glorious and was a major hit.

The car ride was riveting. She saw airplanes and water fountains. And sang Jingle Bells for the entire hour-long ride. (Yay for LA traffic!) When we finally got to the hospital, her dad met us in the lobby where she feasted her eyes on a picture of a rainbow.  The rest of the trip became completely unnecessary and I am positive she will look back at the day and only think of that lobby and possibly a bagel. We went up stairs and greeted her mom with the “Thomas and chicky” balloons, after a hug Lily walked into the hospital room. We all waited to see if she would notice the tiny plastic box in the middle of the room holding her baby sister. Lucy walked over and said “Oh! New Baby.” She paused and looked at the blue-bulb-nose-plunger-thing (yes, that’s the official term for it) and said “Oh! New Baby’s toy!” she turned and walked to the make shift bed on the window seat and said “Oh! Big girl bed!” climbed on to it and proceeded to tell her mom that there was a rainbow downstairs. (I was just thrilled the crib wasn’t knocked down in order for Lily to get a better look at the baby, like it had taken place in my dream the night before.) She refused to take a picture with the baby and only set her mind on the rainbow downstairs and how her mom needed to see it. Life would not be complete otherwise. Of course, Katherine can’t leave the hospital room and that was an impossible. So we feed Lily tiny pieces of candy cane every 3-5 minutes in order to distract her and had her continually deliver small lotion bottles from one person to another. We also let her show Dolly how to play the blue-bulb-nose-plunger-thing like a trumpet. We stayed for a while and, of course, visited the rainbow before heading home.

Here I was, a little sister myself, expecting this monumental occasion to take place. Here is a new sister! What is cooler than that?? Here is your new sidekick in life. The person that will go through everything with you, whether you get along at the moment or not. You’ll be her biggest fan and she will be your cheerleader and best friend. And yet Dolly might as well be a turkey on the table. Worthy enough to acknowledge but surely nothing compared to Disneyworld or Santa Claus or the rainbow picture in the lobby downstairs.

It took me a while to figure out exactly why I have wanted to tell this story, even before it existed.  The reason is the simple acknowledgment of the things we take for granted. Family. Siblings in particular. If only I could explain to Lily how amazing that day truly was. How honored I felt to experience it. How I felt like I was watching my sister meet me for the first time. Hopefully, one day, she’ll understand. But it may take until she stands in the shoes I was in last Monday.

(*Lily has continued to call the new baby Holly and doesn’t seem to like the idea of calling the baby anything else. Could be worse.)

Gimme, Gimme MORE...

 

LEFT: Sign for MORE RIGHT: Kevin's sign for MORE

(Again neither of these babies are Kevin. I apologize if its your kid. If you don't like it, stop placing pictures of your baby on Google where anyone can use it. xoxo)

Over the years I have come in contact with a few babies that have had an extremely rough time communicating. Most recently was Kevin. His behavior became erratic when his intelligence surpassed his ability to communicate with us at around 14 months. Banging his head against the floor or wall, pulling out his hair, throwing things, screaming uncontrollably, and spitting were becoming a regular occurrence. It was exhausting for everyone involved. After several conversations with Kevin’s mom, she decided that this was not getting any better and took the next step: seeing a behavior specialist. The doctor said pretty much exactly what we were expecting, but her advice was shockingly simple. “Start with MORE”. What exactly does that mean you ask? More sleep? More pacifier? Nope, just simply the word ‘More”. She taught us the sign for ‘more’, which thankfully was part of my college education, (See I am actually applying things I learned in school to my life! Who would’ve thunk.) and sent us on our way with this weeks homework. See the word ‘more’ is best to start with because babies always want more of something. And, well, it is the easiest to control. Think Pavlov’s Dogs. You do want I want, you get what you want, we all celebrate, every one is happy.

Now when Kevin sat in his highchair he only received one slice of banana or three cheerios at a time. Neither lasted long and soon enough he would want more. Surprised and gleefully we would say “Oh, you want MORE?!?”. He would continue screaming as we did the sign with a smile on our Mother Ease faces and then put his little hands together to make the sign as well. And then magically he would get what he wanted! The doctor said this would need an average of 40,000 repetitions in order to stick. Awesome. So every few bites we said “more” at every meal until BOOM!… Kevin did it himself! ‘More' meant food to him but who cares! He could tell us what he wanted! Within a week he could sign MORE, WATER, PACIFIER, and shake his head NO.  You can’t even imagine how exciting this is until you go through it yourself. (*Don't worry if the sign is "accurate" or if the baby is making up his own signs; Go along with it!! As long as you both understand what it means, who cares?!?)

Today we took him back to the Speech Pathologist. She was delighted by his improvement; he only banged his head on the floor twice in the hour session. She had more homework for us and said a ton of information that I will simplify into a list for you.

• Cut the “wa-wa” and the “goo-goo gaga”. I never do this because my mother always hated “baby talk” but it is not just her preference, by one there is no baby talk allowed. That doesn’t mean to stop using that innate Mother Ease sing-song voice that we have. That voice means “Hey! Listen up”  to babies and can stay a little while longer but encouraging them to say words incorrectly is not helping anyone. Plus it sounds dumb.
• Show him that MORE applies to more than food. Place him in a bathtub with no water and say “Uh Oh! What’s wrong?!” Eventually he’ll point to the faucet. Celebrate! Fill the tub a little at a time and in between each time say “More?!?” and wait for him to say/sign “More”. Apply the same concept to blocks, puzzles, toys, etc.
• Incorporate new signs and words. “SHOE! Oh Yay! SHOE!” It may take 15 minutes to put his shoes on playing a shoe game but you are instilling incentive for him to say the word SHOE! Which may mean he wants to play the shoe game or go outside. You are now down to 50/50 chance, which is pretty damn good.
• Don’t anticipate needs or desires. This is tough. It comes so naturally for us to know his schedule. He wakes up and wants UP. He points at a banana, he is hungry. But he can’t have either until he specifically asks for it.
• From now on there are no longer books with stories, until he has single words and sounds, only sounds and simple words exist. The cow is not standing in the barn with a baby cow. That page is now “MOO! MOO!”  Remember we are forming building blocks for speech. Once he gets MOO he can learn COW and only then can the “cow say moo”.
• Read the same few books every day. And by read, I still mean point at pages while continually repeating sounds and simple words. Sounds exciting, huh?
• Do not encourage tantrums. He gets 30 seconds of “Oh no, you’re not happy” and then that’s done with. Put him down and start to play with a truck or a book until he wants to join in on the party.
• Think FUNCTION!! Starting with BLUE or RED wont help the cause. Kevin has no application for these words yet. PUSH or VROOM for ‘Pushing the car’ or UP will help clear the frustration.
• If you say “Good Job!” put a quarter in a jar. Why? Because WTF does “Good Job” mean to a baby? Instead say “Great Asking!” or “Good Talking!”

Basically, you’re life is about to get amazing. Your brain may turn to mush and you will plead for adult conversations. Your partner will be thrilled to come home and hear you talking non-stop for an hour about how you pushed a red plastic truck around all day saying "VROOM!". But at the end of the day we are teaching a child to talk... only so we can pray he will shut up someday.




Here is a fantastic website with pictures and videos of baby signs:
http://www.babysignlanguage.com/

Lily Takes a Swim.

(This is not Lily. In fact, I don't know who it is I got this picture off Google in order to protect Lily's' identity.)

I gave you a list of my top 5 favorite things and I am getting so many great responses as to what other nannies/mommies favorite things are and I will definitely post them soon! But for now I feel like its story time.

This past summer had some record high heat waves, I felt rather lazy in 100 degree weather and was looking for something to do with Lily*, now 29 months but around 23 months at the time. Something that didn’t require a 2-mile walk up and down the hills of the South Bay. I settled on setting up the swimmy pool. Her parents told me to set it up on their rooftop deck. See, in LA it is beyond rare to have a backyard and in the South Bay it is even more implausible. The closer to the beach, the closer the houses are to each other, so out door space is basically out of the question for 99% of the homes I visit. I’ve been working with Lily for a year at this point and her parents had recently signed her up for swimming classes; anything to do with a bathing suit was fine with Lily so this plan seemed flawless. They then told me to use her new bathing suit that was required by the swim class. It apparently bypassed Little Swimmer diapers and was going to make my life SO easy. I didn’t trust this idea at all but they were overly confident. I went with it. They left. The pool was filled up on the roof and waiting for Lily in all its glory. I put her in the magical bikini and walked her up a few flights of stairs (the deck is technically the fourth floor of the townhouse.)

This was great! I was outside getting sun on my Snow White legs and she was splashing around and having the time of her life. Perfection. Until I noticed the pool change from crystal clear to a sewer. The magical diaper bikini was full of crap. Literally. It was a nightmare. I had to think quickly and ignore how utterly disgusting this situation was becoming. I decided to wrap her in a towel, run her down several flights of stairs, and put her in the bathtub. She thought this whole thing was hilarious. I was trying not to puke. I managed to clean the soaking wet poop off of her and her dumb bikini. After the bath I called the parents and asked what I should do with the giant plastic toilet on their rooftop deck. I was praying that they would say they’d be home soon and they would take care of it. Their response: “Um, if you could empty it as much as possible that would be great.” My silent response to that: “What?!? How the heck am I going to do this?!?” I didn’t want to leave Lily alone in fear bad things come in multiples, so, I grabbed a cleaning bucket, some rubber gloves, and a cup and threw Lily on my hip. I ran up and down a flight of stairs from the deck to the bathroom carrying a 2 year old in one hand and a bucket of poop water in the other. At least 8 times. I was a sweating repulsive trainwreck by the end. The parents came home just in time for me to have cleared majority of the water and release me.

They thought it was hilarious too.

*Moral of the story: Always be over protective when it comes to situations that could leave you elbow deep in poo water.

My Favorite Things

        New Years Eve I was speaking to one of my acquaintances, she is 9 months pregnant, like ready to pop pregnant. Because I spend about 40+ hours a week with children under the age of 5, I asked her questions that seemed simple enough; things like “what kind of diaper genie did you get?” She had no idea what I was talking about. We looked at each other like alien species. It was then that I decided I needed to save this woman with a gift basket of my favorite things, including the Diaper Genie II elite by Playtex (It’s wonderful.)

       Roaming the isles of Babies R Us with Kevin*, an 18 month old Gemini, I decided I needed to share the random knowledge that I have acquired about children through out my years as a Southern California nanny. Having just turned 25 I am surrounded by people who love the idea of babies and have no idea what they are talking about. So this blog is my attempt to help people out there with the questions we don’t even know we have until it is too late. I will start with my favorite things.  

• First of all is Baby Bargains (currently in it's 8th edition) by Denise and Alan Fields. This book is genius and it is not their only one. The writers originally wrote Bridal Bargains after the sticker shock of planning a wedding. I haven’t read that one yet but Baby Bargains, Baby 411, and Toddler 411, are nothing short of brilliantly life changing. They help you with everything from carseats to clothing. Plus bits of advice for situations you never knew existed. I will mention them often. I believe they update the book every year but I’m slightly OCD and would buy all three just in case I needed one of the other before I remembered their blissful existence.
• Next is the Diaper Genie II elite by Playtex.  I have come in contact with my fair share of diaper pales and let me tell you there is such thing as a bad one. The Dékor is amongst my least favorite just above the Baby Trend Diaper Champ, whoever invented that has never had a baby, but the Diaper Genie elite sausages each diaper into its own little smell capsule. No touching. No smelling. Love.
• Dear Angel blankets aren’t exactly necessary but babies everywhere LOVE them. Another company makes a “security blanket” that is similar but my heart belongs with the Dear Angel version. Easy to hold, they automatically become a baby’s’ modern day teddy bear and you can throw them in the washer!
• Kiddopotamus SwaddleMe will come in handy.  Let’s face it, everyone loves blankets and cuddling but sleeping babies can rarely have either. Enter the SwaddleMe. Kiddopotamus makes a version for older babies as well.
• And last but not least is more so for the toddlers. Plum tots. Toddlers suck these down like air and the best news is that they are good for you! Similar to a warm smoothie, these are a trade secret of nannies and moms everywhere. They are so easy to carry around, there’s virtually no mess during the eating process, and everyone ends up happy. Diapers.com has a large variety that can be shipped to your door or Trader Joe’s has a version called Crushers that come in two different flavors.

Love Always,

Candace (aka KiKi)