The End of a (Nanny Share) Era

Well, our nanny share lasted 8 months.

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The truth is, it was a pretty amicable–albeit still stressful–break-up. And it’s probably best for everyone who was involved.

Finn–and his mommas–really loved his nanny. She was trustworthy and experienced, and we never felt anything but totally comfortably dumping him–I mean lovingly placing him–in her care. But the fit with The Other Mom was never quite as perfect.

From the beginning, there were little issues. She complained a lot about Finn’s separation anxiety and crying, often making us feel even worse than we already did when we knew he was having a hard time. She privileged her daughter’s experience over Finn’s. And she felt like our nanny was her nanny, as she was the one who’d originally found her.

Hello, red flags! We see you waving yourselves all up in our faces!

It really wasn’t that bad, but it was enough to make us feel insecure about our childcare situation–a situation that was costing us a pretty penny.

Truly, of all the life changes and stressors that accompany having a baby, I can’t think of any nearly as frustrating and gut-wrenching and all-consuming as having to find good childcare. It is the thing that has kept me up the most at night.

So, having to grapple with an incessantly nagging concern that we may–at any moment–need to find new childcare took its toll.

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Further, even though we really loved our nanny, she wasn’t always completely dependable. The problem with having a nanny is that, if they are sick or absent, you are left hanging. I had to cancel classes last semester more than I’ve ever cancelled classes in all of my years teaching. Since we don’t have any family nearby, we didn’t have anyone to call last-minute, should we need help.

Fast forward to July. I got a call from The Other Mom–three weeks after we’d moved and while I was in the midst of my two-week graduate program in North Caroline. She explained, tearfully, that she had to leave the share and mentioned (a little presumptuously, for my taste) that she was taking our nanny with her. She found another family willing to take on more hours with the nanny, therefore sharing more of the financial burden.

At first, Sona and I were in a state of shock. The separation anxiety had just gotten better. Finn and his nannymate, a little girl his age, LOVE spending time together. We thought we’d finally hit our groove.

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Really, we just had been through such a tumultuous and exhausting summer, we really couldn’t stand the thought of having to do another nanny search. Or make new arrangements. Or weather through the first few weeks of those new arrangements, having to wonder how Finn is doing and whether he’s being well cared for.

We tried, in vain, to find another share. We gave up on that pretty quickly.

Then, we bit the bullet and acknowledged what we’d both known for a while, now: it’s time for daycare. There are LOTS of reasons daycare will be better for us as a family, including the fact that it’s more dependable, more consistent, and–mostly–will give Finn plenty of social interaction, which he seems to really love.

The daycare we chose, which is very close to our new place, seems super. It’s new and clean. It gets rave reviews. The kids get all-organic meals (you don’t even know how much time it will save me to not have to pack his breakfast and lunch, each day). The classes are structured and built around a lot of playful learning: art, music, reading, outdoor play, etc.

It’s a little more expensive, but it won’t be as much as we’d expected.

Ultimately, I think it will better for everyone involved. Because Finn is waitlisted until October, we had to find a temporary solution. So, for the next 6 weeks, the niece of our old nanny–who is a nanny herself–will be coming to our home and watching Finn. He really seems to like her.

When I dropped Finn off at the nanny share for the last time on Wednesday morning, I was so–unexpectedly–emotional. I burst into tears, saying goodbye to the women who has cared for him since he was only 5 months old. He was a baby, then. He’s a toddler, now.

I recognized that our moving on also symbolized the end of a very special stage in his life, and I wasn’t completely ready to face that, yet. I’m still not completely ready to face that–but I am ready to have some stability and consistency. And not to have to wonder, “What the *!$% can I pack this kid for lunch, today?!”

 

 

 

 

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