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.

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.

Pookster eats at Dosa Delight

Today, we took the train to our beloved Jackson Heights and Woodside, stocking up on Thai, Filipino, Indian, and Colombian groceries and treats. We ate lunch at Dosa Delight, our favorite place for dosas and idli, and Kaia finally got to try the food here (last year, we attempted to get in, but the wait was just too long). She had no problem helping herself and ripping into my masala dosa; she clearly loved the coconut chutney and happily grabbed it (even though it’s obviously not something you can “grab” with your hands), and she even had a number of spoonfuls of the curried potatoes and the sambar that came with.

It was cute to see the group of four sitting next to us observe Kaia voraciously eating all her vegetarian South Indian delights. Two of the women kept looking over to watch Pookster eating while smiling. I felt so much pride in that moment, of other parents watching OUR child and wondering how she got to be such a good little eater.

I hope my tiny foodie always stays a foodie, with curiosity around different cultures and their foods that never ends.

Bed Bath and Beyond at Lincoln Center goes byebye

In the Upper West Side Neighbors Facebook group I am in, someone posted yesterday that the Bed Bath and Beyond right across from Lincoln Center is not only shutting down, but literally everything in the store is 50-70% off, even the lighting fixtures and furniture inside. With situations like this, while it seems sad that yet another store is closing, it’s not like it’s some independent mom and pop shop that you feel sorry for. It’s more something that we’re used to passing by all the time that is just part of the neighborhood. And frankly, all I thought about was (and here goes my domestic goddess/mama side): maybe I could get some good deals on dish and hand soap there?

Well, I was out of luck. I took a break during lunch today to pop into the store and see, and it was like a desert: shelves completely cleared, with some random cups, plates, and plenty of blankets and bedding of a few shades to choose from. Anything even remotely desirable or useful for our apartment was nowhere to be seen. As for the toiletries and cleaning supplies: it’s almost like they dredged up items from the darkest corners of their warehouse and put them on display in the “cleaning” section, hoping that some unknowing person would just grab it because it was cheap and buy it to fully clean out and liquidate their store. Well, that wasn’t going to work for me.

So, the trip to Bed Bath was totally unfruitful. But I guess on the bright side, I didn’t waste any money on useless junk.

Play dates for the Pookster and close neighbor friends

This afternoon, I brought Kaia down to our building play room to meet up with a dad and his 18-month old son for a play date. The little toddlers were a bit shy towards each other, but they eventually traded toys, pushed and threw balls, and Kaia once again got hit on the head. I still need to get her to hit back…

Once she was born, I was hoping that pushing a stroller would attract other young parents to inquire how old she was and arrange play dates. This would help with Kaia getting more socialized and comfortable around other people. And then by default, we could start befriending other people in the building.

The dad who came to the play room with his son suggested that we’re always welcome to their apartment to hang out or even have dinner together. He said they also have some massive play structure that might be fun for the kids to play on together. I suggested the same — it would obviously be very convenient to have some friends in our own building.

Chris has not been that excited about this prospect. “Do I have to?” he whined in response. “Why can’t you go and I do something else?”

The idea of making “parent friends” does not enthuse him because he likes to make the assumption that parents become friends only because of the children’s benefit, as opposed to the parents actually having interests in common that would unite them otherwise. That all may be true, but I do think it’s important to establish some rapport and level of trust with the parents of the kids my own child will be befriending.

Music class for babies/toddlers

I signed Kaia up for the spring session of a well-known and popular music class in New York City. I originally found out about it a year ago, but I didn’t think it made much sense to pay for a music class for her back then when she wasn’t particularly interactive or responsive; to me, that felt like I would be paying for entertainment for our nanny vs. our own baby, which I did not want. Plus, before the age of 1, she would be exposed to plenty of music at home, on TV, and outdoors when we’d be out and about. So I waited until now to sign her up. It’s 13 weeks, with one class per week. You get two makeup sessions if you are out of town/have to miss a session for any reason. The ones I signed her up for are in Central Park. Her makeup sessions, which I’ve already pre-scheduled, are in Riverside Park, so all are quite close.

The annoying thing, though, is how specific they are about charges. So for example, because I signed Kaia up for the outdoor sessions, if I do a makeup session that’s “indoors,” they will require me to pay a $20 surcharge. Why…? Is it because they are paying for the indoor space, and that space, given we’re in Manhattan, is quite the premium? And they also suggested we purchase a “band in a box,” which is a box full of class props, like scarves, music-related toys, etc., for her to use during and outside of class. That costs $30. And because I didn’t want her to feel left out or like she was getting a half-assed experience, I sucked it up and paid for the box. Yep, I did THAT parent thing and just got it for her. Part of me thinks: this class is quite expensive at $35/pop (assuming you purchase the full season’s session), so why aren’t the props/toys just included? I suppose they are just being capitalists in a capitalist society and want to find every possible way to make more money. And of course, parents like us are going to pay for it because who, in this neighborhood, is going to cheap out on their child’s education? But the other part of me just feels annoyed that seemingly everything “baby” or “toddler” related has to be so expensive and has to have yet another price tag added to it. It’s exhausting sometimes. And when you do find the “free” things (paid for by… my TAX PAYER DOLLARS, like the library), it’s super competitive and cut-throat to get in, or it requires you queue up for hours on end. It’s just another thing to make parents’ lives more difficult, or to make child-rearing itself more challenging and expensive.