Fees, fees, and more fees

I contacted the pediatrician’s office with some forms that daycare requires the doctor to fill out. Of course, they replied and said that there is a $25 order form filling fee every time there is a new daycare/school form to complete. How lovely. The one note that they shared only after I called them, gave them my credit card number to process, and then I asked about future forms to have filled out: if I ever request that they fill out one of these forms in the future, and it’s within three days of one of Kaia’s doctor appointments, and I bring the form in for them to fill out and sign, then they can do it without charge. How… weird, yet annoying.

Of course, there are registration fees for daycare/school, as well as deposits. And then on top of that, I need to get a partial refund on the spring session of the music class I purchased for Kaia. I wrote out all the classes she’d taken, plus the ones she can still take, and so in the end, she will have taken eight out of a total 13 classes in the spring session. The music company is willing to only refund 50% of the classes she FORFEITS. Ultimately, this means the cost per class she actually took is higher than I originally thought, but it’s still lower than it would be if we paid a la carte. It is what it is.

I also have had to look into daycare specific purposes, like small food storage containers (they won’t allow any glass containers, so my usual glass jars I use to store Kaia’s on-the-go snacks are out), a lunch box (I cannot believe how many iterations there are of these…), daycare labels (this was a total nightmare; I could NOT believe how many options there were online and all the different price points). I did two searches on Google and Amazon for labels, got annoyed, then texted my friend, who has put two of her own kids in daycare, and she simply sent me the one she used and told me to buy the same ones. I trust her judgment, so I just ordered them to simplify my life.

There is light at the end of the tunnel. I keep telling myself that this is all for the best and that all this effort and annoyance will be worth it in the end. Kaia was going to end up in daycare at some point, so pushing it up a few months would not only save us money, but it would also reduce my daily stress of dealing with her ex-nanny’s constant insolence.

When everyone commiserates your loss of childcare

I spoke with several colleagues and friends over the last two days about how our nanny quit with zero notice. It was very clear from the expressions on their faces who have not only experienced this situation before or something similar, but could empathize with how awful it was. When I told one of my colleagues on my team during a 1:1 chat today, her face fell as though I told her that an immediate family member of mine had died. That was how distressed her face looked.

Before I ever had a child and had to navigate childcare, I could academically understand why this would be terrible and extremely inconvenient. I just never realized how emotional the entire experience could be. It was like in one fell swoop — or rather, one long, ranty, angry text message, I was having a massive judgment made on me as a human being and an employer: “You are an awful, demeaning, condescending, slave-driving boss, and I hate you enough to give the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to you by quitting without any advance notice whatsoever because I want you to feel pain.”

And I suppose the reason it hurt so much to see this long text box on my phone was… I tried so, so hard to make sure she felt comfortable here. I constantly asked her if she felt comfortable. I got her all the food and snacks she ever requested, and then some. Once, she told me that the Trader Joe’s version of Cheerios didn’t taste the same as real branded Cheerios. So the next day, I returned the Trader Joe’s version and went to Target to get the real, branded Cheerios. And she said she was shocked, not only that I did it, but that I did it so quickly. She even went home and told her husband. I occasionally bought her lunch. Once, I even sat down at a restaurant with her when she said she never had Turkish before but always was curious (I got so many weird looks from friends when I shared this). I always, always offered her food I made and even occasionally PACKED it for her to eat when she got home. We gave her rare foods that even we had a hard time sourcing, but we knew she liked. I made her ginger tea when she had stomach pains. I double boiled her chai. I made her a full breakfast a number of mornings. I sent her home early many days when she said she either had a headache or when I just became free earlier (which Chris got mad about because he said we were paying for her time, so we need to USE her time). Some days, when she complained of foot pain, I even helped her clean up after Kaia’s dinner (I really, really regret this now). We always brought back gifts from our international travels. We got her lots of thoughtful things she said she liked, plus cash for her birthday earlier this year. I gave her Chinese treats from Chinatown that I thought she’d like. I even got her Easter flowers.

But the hurt and sadness I feel at her leaving is juxtaposed with the anger I feel about all the things she did to assert her nonexistent authority in my house and in raising my child, plus things she flat out went against and openly defied me, and agreed to do but would regularly skip out on and make excuses for. In fact, the thing that I found most puzzling was that her demeanor on her first day onward with us was like a total 180 from when she first did a FaceTime interview with me, when she was warm, sweet, and even had a higher pitched voice (that was manipulative in retrospect), to when she did her trial. On both those occasions, she was generally warm, open, and amenable (her baby log notes were extremely thorough, too). Yet on her very first day, it was like she was a totally different person: she criticized everything from how we set up Kaia’s bassinet and crib to the changing station to how frequently we empty the diaper pail (“all my other mom bosses ask me to do it at the end of every day.” Apparently, asking her to do less work was worth critiquing for her). She constantly compared our methods to her former bosses’ in a disparaging way. She gave me attitude about the level of detail on the white board we set up for her with explicit instructions on what to do (because apparently, an employer being clear with instructions is not wanted by any employee). Every time I added a daily or weekly task for her to do, whether it was to clean Kaia’s baby bath tub, spray down her changing station or play mat, or shake out the cushion under the changing station, she’d give me this look as though I told her to go jump off a cliff. Many weeks, she’d skip a lot of these weekly tasks completely and get angry when I asked her why it wasn’t done. When I recently asked her to use the dust buster to vacuum the stroller seat and under-basket, she flat out didn’t do it at all. When I told her to remember to spray and wipe down the stroller seat/handles when she fed Kaia in it because she still had food remnants speared on the handles she never cleaned (which I had to clean!!), she scowled and reluctantly agreed to clean the stroller after feeding outside.

When we started feeding Kaia solids, I educated her on baby-led weaning by discussing the method with her and sending her several Solid Starts articles and videos. I even suggested she download the Solid Starts app (she refused). She insisted babies needed to eat purees and would choke otherwise, and I had no idea what I was doing (Nanny: “I have been doing this for over 20 years, and you are relying on the Google for help? You first time moms are crazy. You think you know everything but you don’t”). She’d mash Kaia’s food behind my back and I’d catch it when I’d go the kitchen or bathroom between meetings. I confronted her several times, to which she always responded defensively and arrogantly and said she had to ensure Kaia’s safety (because apparently, I wanted my own child to choke and die). But she finally let it go when she realized Kaia hated to be fed, that she wanted to self-feed, that she was more than able to feed herself. Our ex-nanny also got upset when I suggested she practice straw and open cup drinking at about 7-8 months. First she mocked me, laughing and saying, “Ha, she is too young for that. There is no way a child her age can do it.” A few weeks later, after a few tries of the pipette method on the weekends that I showed my baby, Kaia got drinking out of a straw down pat and loved it. The next Monday, I gave our nanny a dead look and said, “Look what Kaia learned over the weekend. She can drink out of a straw (motioning to Kaia drinking milk out of a straw in a cup)… and you doubted her.” She gave me the same mocking, defiant attitude when I suggested the open cup drinking, as well as utensils. It was beyond exhausting to always get her insolent laughs. In the end, she admitted that Kaia was the first baby so young she ever knew of that could drink out of straw, an open cup, use utensils decently, and feed herself food; it was a little astounding to even hear her admit she was wrong (though she still thinks Kaia is an anomaly and that the average baby cannot do any of the above).

She took little care for our belongings; anytime something got lost or broken, she never even once apologized or took ownership for what happened. Instead, she would lash out at ME for even asking about the item. In her time here, she lost at least three pacifiers, two of Kaia’s toys, and one stroller rain cover worth over $50. Every time something like this happened, she said she didn’t think it was a big deal and that we could always buy another one (with OUR money of course, because money just grows on trees for us). She broke Kaia’s teether pop, one of our ceramic ramekins, and even a picture frame (and the picture frame was the worst because she didn’t even proactively tell me about it and tried to hide it. I realized it was broken, confronted her, and while she owned up it, she never even apologized!). With all of the above except the rain cover, she never openly told me the items got lost or broken; I had to ask her where they were. And each time this happened, she would respond defensively and arrogantly, saying that Chris and I were causing her stress, making her feel worried every day she left that she lost something when all she was here for was to ensure Kaia’s safety and happiness. “I take care of your pride and joy every single day and return her to you in one piece. Is that not enough?? And Chris just obsesses over a stupid pacifier?!”

She repeatedly shared horror stories of her previous mom bosses to me. It should have been a red flag to me; if she rants so openly about previous bosses, there’s no doubt in my mind that she will do the same to me and of course, twist the narrative to make her seem like the victim and me the villain. She mostly complained about their white privilege, how they supposedly were verbally abusive to her and thought they “owned” her and her time. She distorted the meanings of likely innocent old Christmas cards they wrote and cried about them for days, saying they didn’t see her as human. She frequently ranted about white people and how entitled they were; she constantly brought up how awful Trump and the Republican Party are until one day, I finally just told her to stop ranting about this to me. She clearly hates white people even though they are the only people other than us she’s ever worked for. But she masks it so well because all her references gave her such glowing reviews. They have no idea that the sweet, loving nanny that they see is actually a dragon who would blow fire on them behind their backs.

Everything above is just a fraction of alI I had to deal with. I put up with it all because I was never ready to put Kaia in daycare when she was younger. I also knew I would miss my sweet Pookie a lot if I couldn’t see her throughout the day… even if I couldn’t hear the happy sound of her hands slapping the floor when she crawls. Plus, with nannies and personal caregivers, there’s no such thing as “perfect.” So I turned a blind eye to a lot of things and let them go because I knew at the end of the day, yes, Kaia was safe and happy with this nanny. I’m just so tired. Although the last two days have been a lot, I’m so relieved I don’t have to deal with her insolence any longer. I don’t want to have to convince my employee every single fucking day that she NEEDS TO FOLLOW THE RESPONSIBILITIES AS OUTLINED IN HER EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT, that no, that doesn’t make ME an evil, awful employer. I can already hear the false narrative she will tell her nanny friends, her future employers, her family when she “took a chance” on working with an Asian family — us: we repeatedly made her feel like a slave. We were inhuman. We worked her like a dog. We constantly demeaned her and criticized her. We treated her like a slave or child. We never respected her or gave her anything. But well, I will always know the truth of what happened. And I just have to ignore her falsehoods. Because apparently to her, working for a white family, as a black woman, is just so, so much better.

I wish her well. But most of all, I wish her inner peace that she so clearly lacks, and I hope she is able to find help or therapy for herself to manage her emotional instability and past traumas, which clearly continue to play a huge role in her life and she has unfortunately chosen to take out on my family. As Chris said, it’s a new era for all of us.

Nanny quit at 10pm last night

Well, that was fun. Our nanny sent a long, nasty text message, letting me know that telling her that the baby log wasn’t complete was “demeaning” and “you treated me like a child,” and she’s tired and can’t handle adult stress, so her time with us has come to an end. She used to say that she wasn’t used to being in a workplace where she felt so open and free to say what she thinks and feels. She would say that we treated her really well and we were good people, and that she was really happy she took this job. She had never worked with a non-White family before, so in her eyes, she was “taking a chance.” She had shared all the negative stereotypes she once held of Asian people. While all that was not fun to hear and perhaps sharing TOO much information, I thought she was trying to tell me that she realized that they were unfair stereotypes, and that we proved them wrong for her. I suppose she was just being two-faced all along. I guess I should have expected it since she shared so much nasty information about her previous mom bosses, but I thought it may have been different with us. I was wrong.

So, I guess Kaia is starting daycare earlier than we thought. To be honest, this is probably for the best for all parties. I didn’t think our nanny was keeping up with Kaia’s learning and development, especially after we came back from Australia. Plus, it was exhausting to have to manage her inability to accept even the most benign feedback. I was tired of constantly cleaning up after her when I was paying her money to clean up after my baby. I was also exhausted listening to her bring up bad experiences with her last employers. I was like an unpaid therapist for her, listening to her complain about past grievances and how they affected her emotionally. It was like I was being forced to deal with her past traumas, which were all bubbling up in my own home.

I’m sure daycare will present its own set of challenges, but after dealing with the emotional instability and outbursts from our nanny over common sense tasks, I think I am welcoming daycare as our next step.

When feedback is NOT fuel

We have this theme or saying at work that “feedback is fuel.” We pride ourselves on all having tough enough skin to accept constructive feedback, but it’s also strongly encouraged to the person giving the feedback that they do it in the most helpful, kind way possible. For the most part, I think as a company overall, we do a pretty good job of it. I’ve never received any feedback during my nearly three years here that ever felt like a personal attack or an attack on my integrity, and people generally assume the best intentions here all around. I can’t say that about any other place I’ve ever worked at.

So this morning, I had to tell our nanny that I was disappointed with her notes in our baby log that we ask her to fill out daily for Kaia. In the beginning when she started working here, she was pretty thorough about it. She would record all the things we asked her to: poops, pees, naps, and times for all the above; feeds and the amounts (when she had milk as her only food), then later on, foods she ate (and rejected), any fevers or difficulties. But if you look at the progression of her daily logs, they’ve declined in quality quite drastically: while she has always been consistent about recording poops, pees, and naps, she has stopped recording daily activities, and she’s pretty much never recorded any major milestones, which I told her would be new words, behaviors, or gestures. This previous Friday, the only note for activity was “playground.” The previous days were no better.

This felt unacceptable and a bit insulting, as I knew they didn’t JUST go to the playground. Plus, she told me that Kaia had said two new words: “outside” and “jacket.” So why didn’t she write this down? On top of that, the baby bathtub, which she is supposed to be cleaning weekly, was never cleaned the previous week. I called her out on that earlier in the week, and she said she “just forgot.” Okay, but she had already used that excuse previously when this was supposed to happen on a weekly cadence. Yet she’s been happy to talk on the phone while Kaia naps without this getting done. And over the weekend, when I checked the bathtub, there was not only still grey dirt on the top edges of the tub, but there were even traces of pink mildew, which I ended up scrubbing myself.

I also spent Saturday morning vacuuming under the dining table, the couch, and around the living room rug because there were endless food remnants that literally got everywhere that the nanny somehow had missed. And it really grated on my nerves that her cleaning job could be so sloppy. Why should I be spending my Saturday morning cleaning up after my nanny? I’m paying her to do this job after my child eats!

Well, I never got to addressing the poor floor cleaning. I only addressed the baby log because as soon as I said the notes were “not good” and “needed improvement,” and that “writing ‘playground’ was not enough detail, not everything you did, and doesn’t even cover new words,” she immediately put her face in her hands and started crying. Then, she proceeded to say that I pay her to be here to take care of my child, and she takes care of my child. Yes, I do pay her to take care of my child… which also includes filling out the baby log as we discussed and agreed upon in the contract, which also includes cleaning up after my baby’s meals! I’m not sure how any of this feedback is uncalled for or out of line. I told her that no one is perfect and everyone gets feedback when they work for someone; that is LIFE (for god’s sake, it was so frustrating to even say that out loud to someone who is almost twice my age). She barely responded and just said, “okay.” And that was really it.

I understand why some people are just anti having a nanny. It’s hard having someone that personal to you and your child and your home. There are real feelings to consider literally every single day, and there are also frustrating feelings to consider… like when they don’t think they deserve any negative or constructive feedback at all. In previous times of giving her feedback, she has refused to look me in the eye, she barely responds or says anything, and then she proceeds to avoid me the rest of the day. It’s so exhausting. And it really is completely mystifying to me that she’s so unprepared to receive such basic feedback. It’s not like I told her she tried to kill my child or put her in danger.

Duck cooking class

I hadn’t attended a cooking class since early 2020, right before the global pandemic began. So I was actually returning to the same cooking school (with an expanded space, so a far larger kitchen than three years ago!) I had visited in 2020 because for Christmas, Chris got me a cooking class specifically on how to make duck. Duck has always seemed intimidating to me for many reasons, and it’s clear that I’m not the only one scared of it: finding a whole raw duck, cut up in pieces, or duck breasts or thighs is quite hard in New York City (and likely most of the U.S.). The instructor at the class on Friday night said that he struggled to source the ducks for this cooking class and had to go to multiple stores and online shops to finally find them, at the right time, on FreshDirect, finally in stock once again.

Duck, because of its high fat content and super thick, fatty skin, is daunting to cook because it’s very easy to mess up. And when you do mess it up, it’s a really expensive mistake.This cooking class was probably the best cooking class I’ve ever taken in terms of learning technique, understanding how duck compares to other poultry (most commonly chicken), and the instructor was very clear and thorough both in explaining and in how he demonstrated. The key to making sure you cook duck perfectly is to go low and slow. You can’t rush duck, as it needs a lot of time and patience. On top of that, it’s best to have some good equipment (dutch oven, stainless steel or cast iron pan, a reliable low/medium-low heat setting on your stove), as well as… even more patience for the cleanup. Duck fat splatters literally everywhere. The fat was flying everywhere, especially during the rendering of the duck breast skin and the frying of the confit. When the cleaning lady came at the end of class after we all finished eating, I felt so terrible for her. Who knows how long that mess would take to clean up, and I’m sure there would be duck fat splatters hiding where you least expect it. I hope the cooking school was paying her well for such a sticky mess.

Another interesting thing about this class in particular is that for the very first time, it was a majority of men taking the class. There were 11 students total – eight men and three women. The two other women came with their spouses/partners. All the other men came on their own. Everyone in this class seemed to enjoy cooking and cooked regularly, and they all seemed to be intermediate-plus home cooks. I guess that’s further proof just based on this small cohort that duck is not really for the faint of heart, or someone who isn’t familiar with even how to boil water.

That meal was essentially two meals in one. I tried to eat what I could, but it was so, so much. Each of us essentially had a whole duck breast AND a whole duck thigh (confit) to ourselves, on top of a beautiful salad (with duck skin crisps we made!!) and Pommes Anna. I could not imagine anyone leaving that class still feeling hungry or like they did not get their money’s worth. The duck we made was restaurant quality, if not better. It’s inspiration for me to make it at home at some point… assuming that I am willing to splurge and also enlist Chris in the intense duck fat splatter cleanup.

Children’s birthday parties and the conversations that happen there

The three of us went to a friend’s twins’ 4th birthday party at their home today. A number of kids were there, ranging in age from about 10 months to 6 years, so Kaia was a bit on the younger side in terms of the kids who were there. The oldest child who came engaged with her a bit in the beginning, as well as a three-year old who came, who mostly stuck to herself. One twin wanted to fully exclude her from “entry” into their castle, and the second twin had to wait until the first twin went to another room to “admit” her. It was a little funny and cute how distinct the two twins’ personalities were: one twin is very aggressive, exclusive, and wants what she wants when she wants it; the other twin seems a bit more thoughtful and wants to be nice to everyone.

While watching Kaia on and off and observing how all the kids interacted with each other, I had a few short conversations with the parents who came (everyone who attended the party had kids and came with their kids). It was mostly a lot of predictable conversations around pregnancy, birth, child-rearing, temper tantrums, and developmental milestones. I sort of annoyed one mom by suggesting to her daughter that if and when the school bully tries to hit her (she was telling me about the mean kid in her class), she should hit back (I mean… I’m all about self defense. Who wants to be seen as the easy target at school?). Another mom kept asking me when I was going to try for a second kid, which I kept trying to change the subject of, yet she still didn’t seem to get the message, and continued to try to steer us back to that. She also apparently has a very different definition of what it means to have family members who live “close by”: she said she had no family who lived close by. But her mom lives a 10-minute drive away, while her sister lives an hour drive away. The other dads who were there had strained conversations with me, and overall, the conversations were fairly insipid and unmemorable. Granted, I’d seen pretty much everyone here multiple times before at this friends’ events and gatherings, but we’ve never really clicked with any one of them. I think we’re at a point now where we’ve realized that we’re not going to be establishing any of these people as our own friends or people we’d want to see outside of these events. I guess in the end, we came for our friend, our own baby to have a semblance of a “play date” like setting, and for the food (which was excellent, with the main highlights being pan roasted Korean-style beef short ribs and homemade chocolate hazelnut macarons). So the overall party was just exactly what I expected it to be, end to end.

Early Intervention (EI) for children

A lot of people look at the need or mention of “early intervention” in their baby or toddler’s life as a condemnation of their parenting abilities, whether it’s about whether they have done enough for their child, or if it’s something they could have passed down to them genetically that has stunted some part of their development. I’ve generally always been pragmatic about it: if a child needs some additional help, it’s probably better to get them help sooner rather than later, because whatever that developmental delay is, it could cascade and have negative affects on other areas of development if not addressed.

I had a hunch Kaia would be quite verbal this time last year, and I was right: at this point, she can say over 60 different words, which according to developmental milestone charts I’ve read, is at the 2-year old-plus level of speaking. But the area where she hasn’t been that strong is in walking. She easily pulls herself up and gets down. She sits in a lot of different positions. She also is happy to walk while we hold her hands, or when she’s pushing her walker. But she just won’t walk independently, and she will only stand on her own for about 3-4 seconds max. She crawls super fast though, and she’s very, very nimble. Crawling was supposed to precede walking. But still to this day, no walking on her own. I told the doctor this at her appointment today, and she suggested that she recommend Kaia for early intervention to see what we could do to help her walk. Someone would likely reach out to me in the next 2-3 weeks to set up an appointment to come to our home and observe and potentially make recommendations to help.

I don’t really mind it, and I don’t see any harm in having someone evaluate her and watch her closely. I especially don’t mind since it’s fully covered via our health insurance, plus we don’t have to go out of our way to get the help. Who knows – our nanny says that she thinks Kaia is just on the brink of walking and will likely get there before the EI appointment is even scheduled, so we shall wait and see.

Two years since we lost our friend

When we found out our friend Raj passed away due to seizures of a still-unknown cause, we were beyond shocked. I felt sick to my stomach for more than a day, especially knowing that his son had just been born a couple weeks ago, and his wife was still recovering from childbirth and breastfeeding. To this day, Raj is one of the most kind-hearted, gentle, warm, gregarious humans I have ever known. If there is one person who seemed to always, always assume the very best intentions of anyone, it would definitely have been him. Two years after death, his wife is still struggling to fully accept he is gone, but his spirit still lives on through her and their son, now over two years old.

Raj’s death was also shocking and scary to me because when we found out he had died in 2021, it was shortly after I found out I was pregnant. At that time, I was pregnant with twins. That week, one of the twins “vanished” (vanishing twin syndrome), and I went through my own downward spiral that was separate from Raj’s death. I thought about how Raj and his wife had brought this tiny human into the world, thinking they’d raise him and any future children together, but instead, so soon after their baby was born, the baby’s dad died, and mom would be left alone without a life partner to help. Raj would never be able to experience the joy of watching his son grow up. And I thought about how absolutely devastating that was and how petrifying it would be for me if I were in the same situation.

I think about Raj all the time. But when I think of him, I still realize that in his short life, he probably lived a much fuller one than those double his age because of his positive outlook and all-around warmth and kindness. It would be hard to imagine anyone knowing him who did not like him or appreciate how good of a human he was. We could all benefit from trying to embody a little Raj in our own lives.

Listening to news: a real human reading vs. a robot/AI

One of the things I’ve really enjoyed about subscribing to the New Yorker (digital version) is that a lot of the major feature articles are also read by a reader. This means that while I am multitasking, whether that is working out (my favorite), showering, or cleaning around the house, I can still “read” these stories. The New Yorker has always been one of my favorite publications because I like that they always go in-depth on something random that you wouldn’t immediately think to read about (a few recent long-form titles: “The Exhausting History of Fatigue;” “The Dirty Secrets of a Smear Campaign,” and even the profile “The Button-Pushing Impresario of Balenciaga.” It’s not always as depressing as breaking news that you get via CNN or NPR. It’s not always in your face about how awful this country is the way The New York Times always seems to feel, at least on the front page.

So I got excited when I started scrolling through the Wall Street Journal app today and realized that so many of the articles had audio. I thought, wow, this is a big win! Now I can also get major headlines read to me from a reputable source. The unfortunate part…. was that it wasn’t a real human reading the stories. Given the volume of articles, it made sense that it would be some robot reader. It would take a lot of time and resources (MONEY) to have a real person read all these stories to this level. The robot readers mispronounced endless “foreign” names and random acronyms, and the articles weren’t anywhere as enjoyable to listen to as the New Yorker‘s, for obvious reasons given who (or what, in this case) was doing the reading. Sometimes, the monotone was so grating to listen to that I just went back to the actual written article and read it myself. Oh, well. You have to take what you can get.

Kaia’s growing hair

In the last couple of months, Kaia’s hair has gotten noticeably longer to the point where I can’t just part it out of her face with the usual side part. I have to either clip it back or tie it up. While she easily tolerated hair clips from around seven months through 12 months, since we’ve come back from the Southern Hemisphere, she will not wear them at all. She will insist on pulling them out, throwing them, and chewing on them. And of course, this gives our nanny anxiety because she knows that I will be checking at the end of each day to see if any hair clips are missing (they were quite pricey for what they are, given they were handmade and meant specifically for fine baby/toddler hair). So because of this, she just won’t take them out of the apartment. 😀

So I started rummaging through my random hair accessories, including complimentary things I’d been collecting from different hotel stays, and I actually did find a couple of baby-sized hair ties that would be appropriate for her hair length and texture. I started tying her hair up, and for the most part, she’s accepted this. After a rough few days of not understanding why I had to comb and tie her hair up, now, Kaia patiently sits there each morning as I comb and style her hair. This morning, I tied her hair up in two little pony tails. The nanny said that some of her “friends” at the library, including a boy of a similar age who lives in our building, saw her, and then proceeded to attempt pulling her ponytails.

“That was inevitable,” my nanny said, rolled her eyes. “Boys always want to pull girls’ hair!”