When people talk about hiring a nanny vs. doing daycare for their young baby, they usually talk about the usual things, such as higher costs for a nanny vs. daycare, higher likelihood of being sick more often with daycare vs. at home with nanny, more flexibility with nanny vs. daycare, more socialization at daycare than at home with nanny, etc. Those are the usual topics and debates you will hear. You hear about the high rates that nannies charge. Some may tell you about costs you didn’t think about upfront, like insurance costs you will have to pay out of pocket, assuming you are paying your caregiver on the books. What you don’t hear about, though, are the hidden costs of having a nanny in your own home… like, an increase in purchasing household items like hand soap, dish soap, toilet paper, paper towels, and even wipes.

There’s really no way to get around telling your nanny to be less liberal about how much dish soap to use without coming across as cheap. There just isn’t. Realistically, she shouldn’t be using THAT much dish soap. I cook and prepare all of Kaia’s food, so she never has any pots or pans to clean. The most I ask the nanny to do is cut up food or peel fruit, plate it, warm it up, and serve it. So there’s just a small handful of dishes and utensils to be cleaned at each meal since Kaia started solids. Yet despite that, ever since starting solids, I cannot even believe how quickly we have gone through dish soap in this apartment. Once, I watched our nanny while washing dishes, and she used two massive squirts of dish soap just to clean TWO PLATES. I use barely a dime-size amount to clean 10-15 dishes; how can she possibly use that much soap to clean two of Kaia’s plates…?!

Chris has also recently pointed out to me that he doesn’t understand how we could already almost be out of our Costco box of wipes. The last time we restocked these was in October during our last Costco run. We only used one large packet out of ten in December since we were in Australia. So how did we possibly go through a thousand wipes, and we’re not even through March yet? And let me just say: the Costco wipes are extra large; they are more than enough for one pee diaper. And given we just sized Kaia up to the next diaper size, there’s more than enough room on the bigger sized diaper to handle wiping off residual poop prior to even using any diaper wipe. So you really only need one wipe (at most two for the huge poops/blowouts) to get her fully clean. I’m all about maximizing the things we buy, so since the beginning, I’ve gotten really good at minimizing the number of wipes we use and maximizing every last centimeter of space on each wipe to get her unsoiled. So where the hell did all our wipes go? Is our nanny just being super liberal about the wipes, too, and using one wipe for each centimeter of Kaia’s butt each diaper change? Or worse, is she using them for herself to clean her own hands…? I’ve also noticed parents and caregivers in public using diaper wipes for tasks just wiping their children’s mouth or hands. There are cheaper ways to clean your children’s faces and hands, people!!

Again, there’s no way to control for these things because you have no idea since you’re not there watching her every second. And to try to ask about it just makes you either come off as a micro manager and/or cheap. But… we suck it up because it’s our (privileged) choice to hire a nanny to care for our baby.

When I was at the building’s gym two weeks ago, a woman stopped me to ask if I was Kaia’s mom. I didn’t recognize her, but she let me know that she was the mother of X, the friend in the building that Kaia has been playing with. Our nanny had befriended nanny and X while in the playroom during the winter months, and so I had seen many photos of Kaia and X playing together until I met his mom. And then the mom reminded me that I had actually given her well wishes on her actual due date in the gym on the elliptical this time last year, and let her know that at that time, I was about three months postpartum. What a funny little story! I had not seen her at the gym at all since, so I didn’t recognize her.

So I left her a note with my number and let her know that it would be good to set up play dates since our babies were already acquainted, and it would also be nice to have nearby parent friends. We’ve been texting on and off lately, and she shared she had a 3-month membership at the nearby Children’s Museum, where her nanny was taking X at least once a week. The membership includes admission for 2 adults and up to four children, so she suggested that Kaia and our nanny go with their nanny and X tomorrow. So I thought – why not? Freebie for us, and I’m sure we’ll do other future things where they’d benefit, as well.

I really do need more local friends who have kids my age. An added bonus is if they live close by.

Depending on what guide you read, at Kaia’s age, she is either considered a baby or a toddler – a young toddler, at that. She’s obviously still wearing diapers. She needs us to survive and thrive and exist, but she wants to assert her authority and wants as much as possible the way any growing toddler hopes to. She isn’t quite communicating fully, though her vocabulary and sense of self expression is growing by leaps and bounds every single day. And so every now and then, she throws a little fit when she doesn’t get what she wants.

Yesterday while at the DeKalb Food Hall in Brooklyn, Chris bought a passion fruit slushie, and as he sipped it, Kaia gestured that she wanted it. I’m not allowing her to drink anything other than milk, water, or soup; she has her entire life to develop diabetes, so I’m not in a rush to get her closer to there. So sugary drinks do little to nothing for her now and should be avoided. So Chris moved the drink away, and I told her “no.” She got the message right away and started throwing a tantrum, crying, screaming, fat tears streaming down her face. She maneuvered all over the place to try to get out of the high chair, and she even had Chris almost twist and hurt his arm while trying to get a handle of her. She did it again when she saw the drink and we wouldn’t let her have it. And the same thing happened once again. Granted, it’s hard to get too mad at her given she’s been pretty good during our outings to date, but it was just annoying because we aren’t used to this behavior. These are her moments when she’s trying to convey that she’s no longer a baby, but a wannabe tiny human / toddler.

Then, you have the moments when she just wants to be held and cuddled. This is when she wants you to sing songs and read books to her, usually the same one over and over, and when you tell her that the doggie in the book says “woof woof,” she repeats after you and says “woof woof” while smiling, realizing what she just said. And you get googly eyed and think, she’s so damn adorable that I just cannot stand it. I just want to squeeze and hug her and cover her entire face with my smooches. And these moments tend to cancel out the toddler tantrum moments.

At least, they do for now. We shall see how she evolves.

Shortly after Kaia was born, a sweet friend of mine sent a care package for Kaia and me. It included the book by Anne Lamott entitled Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year. I looked at the title and laughed. I decided I would read it after Kaia turned one. So I started reading it a few weeks ago, and while it is definitely over the top, neurotic, and hyperbolic, it is extremely relatable on everything from the concept of “they just send you home with a baby?” to “I hate my fucking breast pump.” It’s an easy book to read, laugh, and cry at. Anne, though a single mom by choice and a well paid writer at the time, faced a lot of her own demons before having a baby, including drug and alcohol addiction, as well as… an addition to bad men. Despite that, she had an amazing “village” she had built herself — her mom, siblings, and friends who genuinely treated her and her baby like family. It was really endearing to see how they truly gathered around her and acted as family can (and should) when a new baby arrives.

One thing that I was caught off guard by, and I guess I shouldn’t be, but I was, given the time it was written (1989) was exactly how much of a white gaze this book had. Granted, I knew going into this that this was written by a white female American writer, but it was a turnoff to me whenever she called out how her church members were black or another friend was Latino. She was eager to give them race descriptors, yet she never mentioned that other people were white; you just assumed if their race was not stated that they were white. Therefore, she basically “othered” anyone who was not white. People probably weren’t that cognizant of things like that in the 1980s, but people are hyper cognizant of them now.

A colleague of mine, who has always lived in small towns across Texas and North Carolina, recently asked me what I like the most about living in New York City. The answer was pretty easy for me: the diversity of the people and cultures, which then translates into a great diversity of food spots and restaurants that are here. It doesn’t seem to matter where you are in New York or what borough you are in, but you’re pretty much guaranteed to see a massive variety of foods from across the globe, right here all the time. Today, I went downtown to get my hair cut, and to make the trip worthwhile, I also decided to eat lunch down there and stop by a couple bakeries that have been on my radar. I ate Taiwanese spicy beef noodle soup for lunch; I popped into a Middle Eastern-inspired bakery and purchased a multigrain seeded sourdough loaf, a pistachio-rose croissant, mini babka, and a za’atar labne bun; then, I walked a few blocks northeast and salivated over the display of Malaysian desserts at a Malaysian bakery and bought a piece of ube kuih, pandan nian gao, ube nian gao, and a mango mousse curd dessert. And on my way to the train, I stopped into a Juice Press to get my nanny a bottle of her favorite beet, apple, lemon, and ginger cold pressed juice. That’s a lot of variety in just about 1.5 hours of walking around the same neighborhood.

Did I spend a ton of money today too easily? Yep. But do I have any regrets about it? Not really. That pistachio rose croissant is likely the best thing I’ve eaten so far in 2023, and the end piece of that seeded sourdough loaf was incredibly fragrant with the most satisfying crunch. This is why I am here.

After my nanny told me that Story Time was cancelled at the library for the winter season, I was pretty disappointed. Granted, it was already competitive to get a spot the way it was set up because they required that the caregiver come with the child to pick up a ticket at least two hours ahead of the scheduled story time hour. That’s frustrating for many reasons: 1) that’s Kaia’s eating time frame, so how the hell are we supposed to bring HER to claim a ticket during that time? and 2) pretty much every caregiver and their baby in the neighborhood is going to be waiting and fighting for the last available ticket. They only allow so many caregivers and their children given it’s indoors and the city is still very scared of COVID and spreading illness, and so it basically meant constantly failing last fall for our nanny and Kaia in getting into Story Time.

So I did some digging on the NYPL site earlier this week to find out the library has a new policy: indoor story time (until summer, when they make it outdoors) is now limited to only 15 caregivers and their children; plus, the registration needed to be done at LEAST one week in advance online. The registration would promptly open at 9am about one week before. Well, I can stomach that. Online pre-registration would be a lot easier and more comfortable than rushing to the library two hours ahead of time and fighting with other caregivers and the endless sea of strollers.

Of course, I knew I was going to do this, and I was going to fight all the other Upper West Side mothers and get a spot for my nanny and kid. So I set up calendar reminders for the next three sessions to register ASAP. There’s no way I am losing this.

Although I’ve obviously dined in the West Village more times than I can count, I have never really thought much about the fact that when I went, I rarely saw strollers in the area, especially when you compare the volume of strollers seen on the Upper West and Upper East Sides. You mostly see younger people with their partners, their friends, dining out, brunching. And then, when we went to have a late lunch at a spot known for its burgers in the area, I was reminded of why this is likely the case.

The further downtown you go, the more you realize how tight and cramped all the restaurants are. The tables are typically smaller and closer together. There are usually very narrow aisles to get from one part of the restaurant to the next. And the bathrooms are usually ridiculously small. You are lucky if there’s even a full sized sink. There is usually a half sized sink with a side faucet (always the worst because those get water EVERYWHERE), a toilet, and potentially a paper towel dispenser and/or a hand dryer, all in less than five feet of space. I am 5’3″ and about 117 lb now, and if someone MY size finds these bathrooms tiny and cramped, then I cannot even imagine what a slightly larger, wider person would think.

Right before our burgers came, Kaia was happily sitting in her high chair, and Chris noticed she smelled, so I took her diaper change items and carried her into the bathroom after I scoped it out. I had JUST enough space to change her on the floor (where else was I supposed to do it? I’ve gotten used to this across all our Saturday outings from when she was four months old onward). Of course, she had a poop. She screamed and cried, as she always does in dark, cramped bathrooms on the floor in scary New York City restaurant bathrooms. Multiple people tried to open the locked door into our bathroom. But we got through it. I brought her back to our table, and we finished lunch. And because she really wanted to get yet more poop out of her… well, she had yet another bowel movement before we left. So for the first time, I had to change her diaper, a SECOND poop diaper, at the same restaurant… ON A TINY FLOOR. At least this time, she was in a much better mood and even babbling as I put her new diaper on and washed my hands.

It would be so, so nice if restaurants were mandated to have real changing tables in their bathrooms in this city. I’d feel less miserable in situations like this, as would my baby. But then again, more space typically means a higher price for rent… which then means…. well, we’ll all pay more for our food. But it’s not like these spaces are getting bigger overall. At least she didn’t have a blowout like she did last weekend.

This time last year, I was surprised when I went to Whole Foods to see that the champagne/ataulfo mangoes from Mexico were on sale, which means they were available and plentiful. It made me excited because a) I obviously love mangoes, and b) when mangoes are in season, you know warmth is right around the corner. So Chris bought six, and then I went back to Whole Foods to look for other things and also picked up five more. So now, we have 11 mangoes sitting by our window sill, waiting to ripen and be eaten. And because our nanny also loves mangoes, she’s been looking at and monitoring our mangoes to see if they ripen and if they turn out to be any good. She reminded me that if it weren’t for working here and for me, she never would have started buying the ataulfo mangoes. She was always used to buying the Haitian mangoes, which I personally find a bit too stringy. Now, she’s addicted and prefers the ataulfos while in the U.S.

I hope Kaia enjoys them this time around. It was a bit weird that she didn’t seem too fond of any of the mango varieties other than one in Australia when we were there in December.