Moving

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So, I finally got sick of blogger and have moved over to a wordpress account. Check it out HERE.Please update your links! Thanks.


More SheNANNYgans on ER

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I don't know what it is with ER and nannies, but there was yet another episode involving nanny issues last night. Apparently, Abby's conversation with the nasty nympho nannies in the park didn't scare her enough to swear them off for good and in Thursday's ep she and her delicious baby daddy interviewed several prospective nannies. But of course they're all freaks. Poor Abby just can't catch a break. The only semi-competent woman there is a model gorgeous Brazilian babe. She may have to consider going the Nip/Tuck route and hiring a male midget if she's worried about Luka sleeping with them like Sean slept with his prospective baby nurse. Then again, that's probably not a good idea either seeing as Julia is having an affair with her miniature manny. You know what? Come to think of it, medical shows and nannies just don't mix. And I should probably stop referring to fictional characters by their first names, as though they're real.


Eating Eccentricities

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They say that second siblings are often times the complete opposite of the firstborns. This is true to a certain extent with Buddha and Bunny. Where it is really apparent is in their eating habits. Buddha will eat (or try to eat) anything. I mean, literally anything. Dirt, grass, paper, plastic, metal, dustbunnies, hair, you name it. This is the kid who tried to eat my sock while it was still on my foot. Bunny, on the other hand is a picky eater. But because he's Bunny and anything but normal, he's not picky in your typical five year old fashion. I was munching on a bagel, that I had brought from home, one morning and after eyeing it with some curiosity, he asked if he could have a bite. Sure, I said and started to hand him a piece.
"Is it organic?" He asked me, very seriously. Erm, no.
"Never mind then." He muttered and continued on. This is not an altogether unusual occurrence. Mrs. Winifred is very specific about what she buys. I don't think there is a single food item in the entire house that is not organic. This is not an exaggeration. She is very particular about what the children eat and when. Both Bunny and Buddha have daily allotments of veggies that they must eat. Bunny has inherited his mother's zest for quality and health. I was munching on some corn chips one afternoon when I saw Bunny shaking his head at me.
"I don't think those are very healthy for you. Maybe you should put them away." He instructed me with total seriousness. I put my corn chips away.
One afternoon, I had picked up some veggie subs from subway and had a small bag of sun chips as well. Mrs. Winifred had given her okay on the chips but after making me read the ingredients on the bag and subsequently finding out that there was a lot of sugar in said chips, Bunny politely refused to eat them.
Another day we were at Starbucks where he was having his treat: a bottle of their organic fruit juice and some organic dried fruit and nuts, when he saw two other little boys around his age sipping some chocolate-y looking drink.
"That's an adult beverage!" He announced. (Yes, this kid uses the word beverage.)
"Why are they allowed to drink that? It's not healthy."
I agreed with him on the health issue but noted that some parents have different rules about treats and maybe they were celebrating a special occasion or something. He nodded and understood but glared daggers at the father of the two children.
Last week Bunny came home with a marshmallow sculpture. And he ate it!
I asked him if he knew that marshmallows are not vegetarian. He nodded.
"Mom told me that already." He muttered off-handedly and continued chewing.
"And it doesn't bother you that there is dead animal in that?" I asked, still in complete and total shock.
"Nope. It tastes good." He responded very matter-of-fact as though I were the most stupid person in the world for not understanding that.

*sigh*

Everytime I think I have him figured out he goes and throws me for a loop. I don't know whether to be proud of him for making up his own mind or scared that he's being corrupted by his more mainstream pre-school peers. Either way, he definitely keeps me on my toes.


Filed Under 'Evil and Shameful Thoughts'

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Sometimes I wish Winifred would disappear altogether so I could raise her children properly without her constant interference.


Am I Their Mother's Keeper?

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One of the hazards of being a nanny is finding out (unintentionally of course) about family secrets and dirty laundry. Most of the time I keep this info to myself but I've recently stumbled upon something that could be something or could be nothing and I don't know what do about it. Part of Mrs. Winifred's (formerly Mrs. Pinochet) extensive neuroses stem, I'm sure, from her incredibly critical family. I've only had the displeasure of meeting her sister on a few occasions but from what I've garnered from Dr. Doormat and from bits and pieces of conversations is that her family is very intense and harsh. That being said, I should add that in addition to her being a very attractive woman in her early forties (you didn't hear that from me) she is/was a social worker. Anytime I so much as show up with a frown on my face she makes sure everything is alright at home. On the one hand, I'm touched that she bothers to notice and ask, but on the other hand, it makes it very difficult, tedious and altogether worthless and uncomfortable conversations. I have a shrink, thank you very much, I don't need to work for one as well. In any event, she likes to be involved and likes to think that she knows what's going on in my life. (Oh if only she knew.) So when I got back from NY and saw how skinny she was, I chalked it up to the ulcer that she was just diagnosed with. Except that the more I think about it, the more I see some serious signs of some body image issues. Mrs. Winifred is anything but fat. Even when she was nine months pregnant, I probably weighed more than her. And she had a flat belly within weeks of giving birth. But as I was folding laundry the other day, it dawned on me that she's gone from a size 6/8 to a 2/4 in the past six months or so. Her arms, though always toned are incredibly gaunt looking and the bones in her chest are visible underneath her skin. Her jeans look like they're about to fall off of her. Even her lycra yoga pants are loose and baggy. As I was thinking about this, I started mentally slapping myself. I'm probably just jealous that she's lost some weight when I've gained some. (Thank you risperdal, thank you! As if the lactation wasn't bad enough.) I'm probably just projecting right? Except that she spent three hours at the gym this morning and later today when she was reading a fashion magazine she went on a tirade against 'skinny jeans' and how nobody except Nicole Richie and the Olsen twins can possibly look good in them. I just nodded and agreed but honestly? She's probably one of the few people who would look good in them. She's tiny! Itty bitty. The only thing that's remotely large on her are her breasts. But she's nursing! And even then, I have her beat with my 36 Ds. And then another thing clicked. They're going to visit her family in Philadelphia for Thanksgiving. Her incredibly critical and overly harsh family. And I remembered that the last two times they were going to visit she upped her gym hours as well. So I'm really torn. Is it the result of her ulcer and the subsequently restricted diet or is there more to this weightloss? Could she be on the verge (or in the midst) of an eating disorder? Because either way, she really seems to have no idea about how thin she's gotten. And there's no way I can count on Dr. Doormat to take notice. He's a brilliant doctor but he seems to turn it off when he gets home. This is the same man who didn't realize his four year old had pink eye until I suspected it and brought it up. So I don't know what to do. Should I mind my own business and just focus on the kids? They, not her, are my job, afterall. Or should I approach her with my concerns and risk offending her and/or making an ass of myself? Is bringing it up worth the potential fall-out if I'm wrong? Or hell, even if I'm right? I just don't know.


I Should be a Marital Counselor

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I spend the bulk of my time with Buddha since Bunny is in school five times a week now. We spend a lot that time conversing. Most of our conversations are pretty profound, too.
We talk about fashion.
"Buddha, do you like my new shirt?"
"Blaahh deeee bleee."
"Excellent. I thought you'd like it. Do you think you could maybe not drool on it today then?"
"Laaa boooodleee."
"Awesome."

We talk about politics.
"No, you're not allowed in here buddha. Hence the baby-proof gate."
"Bleeeee blaaaaa!"
"How did you knock that down?"
"Gladegleuuu."
"Wow, you're innovative. "
"Bleesshh."
"Just goes to show, fences aren't going to keep people out where they want to be."

We talk about authority.
"Sorry buddha, you can't have apples today. You can have carrots though."
"Ahhhh!"
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I don't make the rules, your mom does."
"Waaaah!"
"Well, because she's the decider and she decides what's best."

We talk about nutrition.
"Buddha, how many times have I told you that dirt and grime are not food."
"Spleeeegggleee."
"Come here, spit it out."
"Ahhh!"
"See? This is why you have the world's stinkiest turds."

We talk about philosophy.
"If you poop, and nobody's there to smell it, does it still stink?"
"Plllauuuugh."

We talk about PDA.
"Aww, are you gonna give me some kisses buddha?"
*slurp* *slobber*
"Ouch!"
"Heeee."
"That was a bite not a kiss. No biting. Save it for your first girlfriend."

We talk about the birds and the bees.
"Yes, that is your penis ... but could you please not grab at your scrotum when it's covered in poo?"
"Heee."
"No, seriously. It's gross."
"Blaa deee blaaa!"
"Okay, I'm not kidding. Keep your hands off your penis while I'm cleaning the poo off. Play with it when I'm done."

We talk about manners.
"You know it's not polite to spit milk in people's faces."
"Spplleeet. Phhhattttt."
"Nor is it polite to smear green beans in people's hair."
"Blauuuch."
"You're a real charmer you know?"

We talk about common sense.
"If you stop quirming, I'll be done quicker, you know."
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
"Chill out, I'm just putting on a new outfit."
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"
"You know, maybe if you didn't smear smashed food all over yourself, I wouldn't have to change you after every meal. Think about it."

We even practice our debate skills.
"Okay, how about you and I make a deal?"
"Bleeedlaa."
"It's time for your nap. If you sleep for three hours, I'll sneak you some cheerios later."
"Glaaadee."
"Okay fine. Two and and a half hours and I'll throw in an apple slice."

It's what I tell all my friends. Relationships are based on communication. I'm sure it's why Buddha and I are so tight.


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