A few weeks ago, we thought our nanny might quit on the spot. Having worked together for over a year, the end was in sight, our relationship about to explode in an epic trash fire of resentment and hurt.
I’m so thankful that didn’t happen.
First off, for those of you who don’t have children, let me let you in on something that totally blindsided me: finding childcare is a fucking nightmare. Truly. Unless you are lucky enough to live by family members that are retired or otherwise able to sacrifice their lives for your family (looking at you, stay-at-home parents, who sometimes also have to make this choice simply because childcare is more than your paycheck), finding someone to watch your kid during the day comes with a whole slew of challenges. It can be incredibly expensive. Waitlists for daycares that you’d actually feel comfortable sending your little one to can be months – if not years – long. The nanny market is all over the map, both in terms of cost and abilities. Your needs and the needs of your kid are constantly changing. Your resources are constantly changing (hello pay cut, so nice of you to drop by). And just when you think you’ve finally found a good fit, your nanny tells you they’re moving to New York in two days.
For many reasons, we’ve gone the nanny route since our son was about five months old. We both work hybrid, and getting to see the little guy throughout the day is worth every penny that we could be saving if we went with one of the cheaper daycares (although, the reason why they’re more affordable… 👀). But it wasn’t an easy path. In the first six months we cycled through three nannies: one was a student who got a full-time job in her field; one had to move back to Morocco for a family emergency; and yes, one decided to move to New York on a dime.
When we met our current nanny, she was a godsend. She had just moved to the area and had previously worked as an au pair. She was kind, gentle, and so much fun with our son, who was one at the time. They’d go to the park, the aquarium, to local Brazilian bakeries and bring home treats. She was young and adventurous; our son (and cats) took to her immediately. All has been well in paradise for the last year, with little to no complaints.
So when we started to feel weird vibes a few months ago, we figured it was just a phase. She recently got engaged, and we knew she was missing her family in Brazil. When she started working with us she lived only 10 minutes away from our house; but about six months ago she moved to the suburbs, significantly lengthening her commute. And our son, now two and a half, has definitely become more of a handful. He is fueled by the power of the universe and has the stubbornness of a mule. Love him dearly, but he can be a monster. He’s recently decided hitting is the best way to get what he wants, and he’s strong; he’s given me a bloody lip more than once. Apparently this is a completely normal stage of toddlerhood, but it sucks. It’s a far cry from his sweet, cherubic baby stage.
Which brings us to a few weeks ago: our nanny had just arrived, and we were going through the drill (last diaper change, general mood, plans for the day). Out of nowhere, our tiny gremlin runs up and whacks her across the arm. Surprised, she responds in a way that strikes me as a bit rough. My son runs off, then comes back and hits her another time. Again, she responds roughly, right on the razor’s edge of my comfort level. That night, my husband and I talk: we both felt uncomfortable, we agreed it was an inappropriate response, we resolved to talk to her about it in the morning and come up with a better way to respond to those situations moving forward.
The next morning, we see that our nanny is already frazzled upon arrival. The bus was a nightmare. We start talking to her about other things, then gently pivot. “Hey, you know that situation yesterday…”
Immediately, her face falls. She turns flush, defensive. And the dam breaks: maybe this isn’t working out anymore. Our son is a lot right now, her commute is a lot, we don’t pay her enough, she doesn’t even know if she’s doing a good job anymore. Perhaps the time has come to part ways.
We were shocked. Confused, even – wait, weren’t we the ones with the issue? In the moment, we told her that we would think about everything she shared and revisit the conversation within the week. And then we fell into the grip of our own emotions: anger, frustration, resentment, fear. I cried, while trying to finish the draft of a story I no longer cared about. It wasn’t that her feelings and struggles weren’t valid, but to share them in the way she did felt like gaslighting. She never even addressed our concern! What the heck were we going to do?
Over the next three days, my husband and I talked through our various feelings and our options moving forward. If she was feeling that way, what was the point of trying to work through it? Maybe she was right; maybe it was time to part ways. Our son would be so sad, but he’d gotten over it in the past and would get over it again. Now that he was a toddler, maybe daycare made more sense. At the end of the day, we kept coming back to the same question: Was the potential of maintaining a relationship with her worth having a hard conversation?
Ultimately, we decided that all we could do was try to balance our needs with her concerns. We sat down with her and acknowledged the things she was struggling with. While some of them were out of our control, others we could address. We offered a new arrangement, one that worked better for us and also might alleviate some of her stress. We told her that we understood it may still not be a good fit for her right now, and that was okay too; the toddler stage was not for everyone. As we said all of this, I was sweating. I was fully aware that she might up and quit. Her defensiveness might return. She might be super unhappy with the adjustment in hours that we proposed. And at the end of the day, our son’s safety was key, and we needed to trust 100% that she could be the mature adult even when he was losing it. This could be her last day, and we’d have to be okay with that. My mind spiraled through every scenario, and I braced myself for the worst.
But once we’d laid out our points, she looked relieved. She apologized for losing her cool and said she was so overwhelmed, she just didn’t know how to bring up her struggles. She was grateful that we were open to working things out after her outburst. Once the conversation got going, I felt a shift in the air. We were communicating honestly and respectfully, and our chat ended the best way it could. We left the space with a new path forward, one that we agreed to revisit if and when it ever felt like it wasn’t working anymore.
Sometimes it can be really hard to know how to navigate these types of situations. My desire to cut and run is strong. It feels so much easier to avoid the (at best) awkward or (at worst) painful tension that can arise from addressing an issue head on. But at the same time, pausing to consider a situation in its totality, extend empathy and grace, and be brave enough to have the hard talk can also transform a situation for the better.
We’re now a few weeks past that moment, and our nanny seems lighter. She’s bringing fresh energy to our son, patience in his hard moments, and able to do so with a schedule that’s working better for all of us. It’s a lesson that right on the other side of a hard conversation could be a mutually beneficial future.
Small victories 🏅
Last weekend, Jess and I reunited! Personally, it was a wonderful experience having our worlds collide at Jess’s engagement party. It was fun to have person after person say, “You’re the Sam? Like from The Mess with Sam and Jess?” It filled my heart seeing how many people appreciate this little ol’ newsletter. Thanks for making the work of writing worth it – and also bringing all the vibes to celebrating Jess and Dylan 🥂
Hot mess recs 🔥
In trying to help our toddler channel his anger in ways that don’t involve punching someone in the face, we’ve looked to the internet for solutions. One thing that seems to help are these Teenie Cool Cat Needohs. They’re fun to squish and oddly soothing; we even got a few extra to keep on our desks. Whenever he starts to hit, we say, “Run, go get your squish cat!” If you struggle with rage, might be worth getting a squish cat yourself.
Sunday is Mothers’ Day! Don’t forget to get your moms and partners something: a present, a hug, a call, a day off taking care of the kiddo(s). What you mothers do is god’s work, and we all literally wouldn’t be here without our moms. Jess got hers a personalized Stanley Cup (tita loves to hydrate, and Jess figured – why not make sure Mom is on top of the trends?).
And this is kind of a pre-recommendation: Jess has been working on a series about GLP-1 drugs like Ozempic for a couple of months now, and the first episode is set to drop very soon! She’s worried and anxious and stressed out about it, but she also can’t wait to share it with everyone. We’ll definitely share links in our next newsletter, but for now keep an eye on The Journal feed wherever you listen to podcasts.
Send us a note 💌
Tell us about your hard conversations – one that you had or one that you regret not having. We might feature you in a future newsletter! We’re at goshdarnmess@gmail.com.
Until next time,
Sam