What child is this?

I thought I'd post some of the pics I helped Kathy take for their annual Christmas card. My favorite is the one on the top because Claire's face is priceless, but they went with the second shot, where James looks like he's been possessed by a demon. Still, these kids are adorable, aren't they?

And in case you were wondering, James is doing very well. He sleeps a ton, is great at bottle feeding and doesn't seem to mind getting a million kisses a day. And he has yet to pee in my face, so I'm feeling pretty good about this kid.

Green Apple, you must be the one

Twenty points if you can name the song and artist from the title of this post. 50 if you can tell me what 1990's TV show featured it on their soundtrack. If you know me well, this shouldn't be difficult. If you don't know me, well then, good luck (and also, thanks for reading my blog :-)

Let me start off by offering my sincere apologies for the veritable drought of posts lately. My laptop is broken again, and since this is the 3rd time this year, I am probably going to have to spring for a new one. And since the only acceptable laptop in my mind is the MacBook, it will probably be awhile before I can afford it. HOWEVER, don't let that get you down b/c this thing they call 'maternity leave' is serving me very well. Once the older girls get back to school (next Monday, thank you Jesus), the little ones will naps for a few hours each day and I'll be able to access the interweb while I'm at work. Things should get back into a pattern and I promise to be more faithful to you, my devoted readers (all 7 of you!).

I'd also like to wish you a very Merry (belated) Christmas and a Happy New Year! I had a good time this Christmas. I was dog sitting for the largest pets ever created (two dogs who are so big they live in a make-shift horse stall in the basement) and it was wonderful to have some time for myself. I forget that I don't do well without downtime and unfortunately when you are 28 and you live in your parent's house, privacy is often lacking. Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name and sometimes you want them to leave you the hell alone! So staying in other people's house offers me the ability to decompress and to appreciate my family when I am home. That, and they usually have big televisions with HD. Mom and Dad, not so much.

And finally, I want to let you all know how very much I am looking forward to 2009. I have big plans for my New Year's Resolution and I plan to go public with it right here, so check back on January 1rst for more details. Here's a spoiler: I'm saying goodbye to a loved one, kicking a habit AND making myself EXTREMELY venerable in order to save my life. I mean, it's practically reality television, people. BIG changes are headed my way. Stay Tuned!

It's A Boy!

Hello, my name is James Patrick!

What the hell am I going to do with a boy?  That was my first thought.  It's not like I wasn't expecting it (see previous post) but when I got to the hospital room with three little blond girls in tow and set eyes on sweet baby James, all I could think was, "What the hell am I going to do with a boy?"

Obviously, I am so excited for this new baby and I love that Tom and Kathy finally have a son.  He is just precious and adorable and yummy looking and since I haven't seen him since Thursday, I cannot wait to get to work on Monday!  Maternity leave can be so much fun if it's done the right way!

My trepidation comes mainly from having little to no experience babysitting for little boys.  It's weird, now that I think about it.  I guess I've just always found little girls easier to deal with.  They like princesses, fairy tales and the color purple (not the book, the actual color).  Boys seem to open up this door into the unknown.  I guess I know that most boys like sports, the color blue and motor vehicles of one sort or another.  But do they prefer baseball or soccer, navy or cerulean, porches or dump trucks?  There are so many questions I don't have answers for!  Also, I am dreading the day when he will pee in my face while I am changing his diaper.  I am certain this will happen, and probably while my mouth is open or something gross like that.  Yuck!

So I've been pondering my male induced-anxiety all day and I think I've come up with an answer.  The reason I am uncertain about what to do with a little boy is because, truly, I am uncertain about what to do with big boys.  Men are a mystery to me.  I haven't had the greatest of experiences with guys, dating back to second grade when I was asked by a snot nosed brat to sit out of the next game of 'Kiss the Boys' because none of the other boys wanted me to chase them .  Follow that with a seventh grade asshole (sorry, I know it's bad taste to cuss in a post about a new baby, but there is just no better way to describe this kid) who called me 'Shamu' to my face while we were dancing at Fortnightly and repeat that pattern with guys from junior high on into college.  And every guy I've ever 'liked' has practically run from me kicking and screaming, not that I've ever had really great taste in men (remember Jim the Douchebag?).  

Since I am currently in counseling working through my issues with men (and all kinds of other crap), I am learning to try to be very honest with myself and others about how I truly  feel, so here goes.  I am nervous that I will not love this little boy as much as I love his sisters.  I don't really think that is how it will happen and when I held him at the hospital I was instantly smitten, but I think there is just this fear in the back of my mind that because I have been hurt by men in the past, I will somehow subconsciously hold myself back from loving James to my full nanny capacity.  The good news is that the hopeful part of me is thinking that loving this little boy could be just the thing to change my man-hating ways :-)

P.S.  I realize that I promised to post about the baby on Friday, but I was simply unable to get wireless Internet access.  I've asked Santa to remedy this for Christmas, so hopefully he'll deliver on the goods.

Waiting on the World to Change

Today is the day!  Kathy just left for the hospital to deliver baby #4 and I'm sitting in their kitchen waiting for the girls to wake up.  Here's the birth day routine, at least the one we've adhered to for the last two babies. 

 

1. Kathy gets pregnant (with some help from Tom).

2. Nine months later, she schedules an induction with her doctor.

3. I am on call the day of induction to come over and stay with the girls because both sides of their family typically wait at the hospital.  (today, my call came at 5:15 am. thanks st. john's mercy :-)

4. Rush over to their house and follow the normal routine with the other 3 girls.

5. Try to predict the sex of the baby. I'm pretty positive it's a boy, mostly because I have no clue what to do with a baby boy.  I mean, trucks?  How the hell do you play with a truck?  

6. Anxiously await the call from Kathy letting me know that the baby was born and that I can bring the girls by the hospital when they get out of school.

7. Take the girls to the Cupcakery to get them hyped up on sugar (and to buy their parents cupcakes).

8. Off to St. John's!

9. Provide comfort when one of them inevitably freaks out at seeing their mom in a hospital bed.

9. Kiss and hug the sweet new baby!

10. Freak out a little on the inside because I of how badly I want one of my own.

So, that's the plan for today.  I'll let you guys know when the baby comes.  My money is on an 8 lbs, 14 oz. boy named Ryan James.  We'll see!

Technical Difficulties

Zoinks!  I don't know why, but for some reason my most recent update was placed below the 'Sweet November' post.  I'm still trying to figure out how to function in cyberspace.  But feel free to scroll on down and read 'Viva La Vida'.  But I want to encourage you to pee first, because it's a long son of a bitch!  

Word

-Annie the Nanny

P.S.  I would like to dedicate this post to a good friend of mine who pesters and encourages me to post more often, all at the same time.  This Bud's for you, Carly!

Sweet November

You may think I have forgotten all about the blog, but that is untrue. I have simply been crazy, dumb busy. And while I would love to post a long and humorous message right now, I'm not going to for three reasons. One, I have to pee. Two, Stella the puggle is whining and wants me to go to bed so we can snuggle. Three, if I can't make you laugh then I won't waste your time. 

But since it will be December in 11 minutes, I thought I'd post a top 10 list just to give you a reason to finish reading this post. So here goes:

NOVEMBER'S TOP TEN

10. Only posting twice on Annie the Nanny :-(

9. Having two warts burned off by my dermatologist with little to no warning.

8. Having one wart become a giant blood blister that spontaneously drained at will...sexy!

7. Spending the whole month in 'my' room at my parents house b/c no one called me for dogsitting :-(

6. Being reminded that 'my' room actually belongs to my 18 year old sister and that whenever she comes home from school, she has dibs and I have to find another bed.

5. Having a semi-cute guy buy me a drink at the Coldplay concert in Kansas City!

4. After finishing the beer, having him ask if I "want to get the next round"

3. Visiting the gynecologist for the first time.  Very fun (she says, with sarcasm)!

2. Grandma commenting that she likes my haircut because it makes my face look "less round"

and the Number One moment of November was....

1. When my boob popped out of my dress in the produce department of the grocery store.  Talk about melons!

More to come in December!

Viva la Vida

I. LOVE. COLPLAY.

I have never loved a band the way I love this one, and seeing as I am still riding high from seeing them last month, I thought I would just pay homage to my favorite band and tell you all a little bit about the concert.  Perhaps you would like to take a minute to put on your favorite Coldplay album and and listen while you read in order to get the full experience.  It's cool, I'll wait.

Okay, since there is no way to signify the passage of time in cyberspace, I'll just let you know I waited, like, 10 minutes while I listened to the new Prospekt's March EP.  Glass of Water is my favorite!

Moving on.  The original Viva La Vida tour date for Kansas City, Mo was on my birthday (July 9th, in case you want to buy me a present) but it seems Gwyneth Paltrow was worried I would steal her man and therefore caused some 'technical difficulties' with the tour.  She was right, too.  I would've stolen her man.  You should've seen the hot dress I wore.  Smokin'!

So the show was rescheduled to Nov. 13, 2008.  It was a Thursday, which meant I had to find an Annie the Nanny stand-in.  So naturally my sister Claire (who basically looks exactly like me, except she has beautiful golden red hair, a boyfriend and is a freaking goddess) stepped in.  She arrived at the Fagan Family Funhouse a little before 3 and I hopped into her car and took off....to get gas, pack my clothes, run by the library for some good books on tape and by Walgreen's to pick up some much needed Diet Dr. Pepper.

The concert began at 7:30.  It takes about 4 hours to get to KC from STL.  I got on the highway around 4:30...and made it in time for the opening act.  Go cruise control set at 88mph!  I even had time to stop in Columbia for a pee.  Amazing.

I used to be completely anti-KC, but a visit there this spring changed my perception a little bit.  My aunt, uncle and their 4 boys drove me around, showed me the sights and taught me that Kansas City has more fountains than any other city in the world.  Pretty cool, huh?  But in my opinion (which is pretty much always accurate) Kansas City feels a lot like a glorified Chesterfield.  Maybe not the downtown, but it's suburbs just sprawl and sprawl.  It's like, why not just go hang out at Boone's Crossing?  Oh, that's right.  Because Boone's Crossing sucks and St. Louis is amazing.  Whammy!

But I digress.  Where was I...oh yeah, I arrived at the Sprint Center just in time to meet up with my friends Kate and Stephen Bell.  The Bell's won the prize for best seat location.  They were in the 12th row and I'm willing to bet Kate copped a quick feel when Chris was writhing on the ground in front of her.  I sure as hell would've. 

When I got to my seat (Floor A, Row 8, Seat 14) I noticed that there was an empty chair next to mine.  Not a huge shock, considering the fact that I bought my ticket with my, by myself.  But there was a nice looking man sitting two seat away and he seemed normal enough.  He was chatting up the people around us and eventually introduced himself to me.  It went like this:

"Hi, I'm Jim.  What's your name?"

"Hey Jim.  My name is Anne.  Are you having a good time tonight?"

"Sure am!  I got these tickets for free from my work, so I'm working on my 4th beer.  You want one?"

"Well, sure!  I would love a Bud Light.  Thank you so much!"

(time for a hair toss, breath check and breast readjustment)

"So, do you live around here...."

And so our conversation continued in a polite, friendly fashion for the next several minutes.  I learned that Jim works for AT&T, grew up in St. Charles, Mo., likes to travel and has two dogs.  Also, he had two tickets (b/c when he bought them, he had a girlfriend but they had recently split) and offered to let me call up my friend Katie Adams (who I was staying with that night) and invite her to the show.  So nice, right?  I mean, I had had a dream that I met a guy at theColdplay concert back in July, but I thought that was just wishful thinking.  But this delightful interlude was leading me to believe that perhaps I was mistaken.  

And then, just as the lights started to dim and Life in Technicolor (my second favorite Coldplay song, despite it's lack of lyrics) began to stream through the speakers, Jim leaned over and whispers in my ear "Hey, the beer guy is coming around again. You wanna get this round?"

Seriously, that's what he said.  

Dammit.

I was so thrown by that comment that immediately I was like "Yeah, sure.  Two more Bud Lights down here!"  And while I was disappointed, I also sort of thought that it was okay because, you know, I'm an independent woman and I can buy a guy a beer.   This doesn't mean he's not still a nice, normal, interesting person, right?

Wrong.  Jim was a tool.  An 'obnoxious, sing-along way too loud, yell things at the band, drink far too many Bud Lights and then accidentally spill one on my dress' tool.  I mean, I thought people were supposed to get more attractive when the lights went down.  Jim, not so much.  He just got drunker and incredibly annoying.  When he was screaming the lyric of The Scientist off key and off beat, people kept looking back at him and I felt the need to inch my way down the row in order to prove that we were not, in fact, on a date.  

In truth, I found Jim rather bourgeois.  People don't go to the symphony and hum really loud when you hear a overture you recognize.  They don't go to a movie that they've already seen and proclaim loudly to the entire theater, 'Here's the part where that guy dies!'  And they sure as hell do not go to a Coldplay concert and bellow "AND I WILL TRY TO FIX YOU" effectively ruining that sweet song for your fellow concert-goers.  

Jim, you are a douchebag and I hope we never meet again.  Ruiner.

Douchebags aside, the show was amazing.  There was a wonderful mix of vintage Coldplay (can it be vintage if it's only 6 years  old?  oh well) and the newer, more experimental 'Radioheadesque' songs from Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends.  Chris danced around onstage, but only in the most appropriate way and it was way less weird than his fairy-like writhings from the X & Y tour.  And by the end of the night, I had developed a deep affection for Will Champion (he's the drummer) because he was so freaking hot when they played their 'God Put a Smile on Your Face' medley.  Also, at one point the band ran up into the stadium to a make-shift stage in the middle of the audience and Will sang solo on this cool, Johnny Cash-like song.  I was tingling all over!  During Lovers in Japan they shot thousands of paper butterflies into the crowd from the scaffolding above and it was so lovely, I got the chills.  It probably would've looked spectacular if you were on acid, but I don't do drugs and it was still pretty amazing.

Wow, that was quite a doozie of a post, wasn't it?  I hope you have made your way through to Strawberry Swing by now.  I'm in the middle of Now My Feet Won't Touch the Ground and feeling pretty good about it.  God Bless you.  And God Bless Coldplay!

Welcome to Forks

In case you haven't guessed it by now, my inner teen is still alive and kicking. I love things like Harry Potter, wine coolers, Bonne Belle Lip Smackers and of course, the Twilight series. However, I would like to add that I have liked these books since last October, so I consider myself more of a leader than a follower in this regard. Here's the story of how I became a fan of a pair of star crossed lovers and a family of vegetarian vampires.

Last October the family I work for decided to take a Florida vacation, which provided me with a much appreciated week off. And since I had a $250 voucher from Fun Jet vacations (almost died on the way to Jamaica, but that's a story for another day), I sent out a mass email to my nearest and dearest, looking for a traveling buddy. Here's how most of the responses went:

"Anne, I wish I could go but I have...
2 kids and I can't afford it (okay)
2 kids and my husband won't let me (excuse me?)
2 kids and I'm pregnant (yikes!)


It appeared I was either going to Mexico 'with my by myself', or I wasn't going at all. Then, out of nowhere, who should write me back but my good pal Missy (Orwig) Lang! Here's what I remember her writing in that email:

"scANNEdalous- I would LOVE to go! It will be hard to leave my six month old daughter, Sonya, but I deeply value our friendship and feel this would be a wonderful opportunity to bond with you. And, darn it, I need some rest and relaxation too! Being a mom is hard and I think I deserve 3 days of surf and sun to rejuvenate. Thank you so much for the invitation. You are my best friend. Also, you are beautiful. -Missy"
*I'm summarizing, but that's pretty much exactly what she wrote. I swear, just ask Missy.

So off we go to Cancun, Mexico, where you can lose your wallet, your dignity and your virginity all at the same time! That's not what happened with us, but I've heard some freaky stories. I was feeling rather ambitious on a literary level, so I brought with me 3 books: The Kite Runner (which I still haven't finished), The Book Thief (AMAZING book, although I didn't read it on that particular trip) and Pride and Prejudice (I always bring P&P with me, it's a weird thing I have). I don't know what I was planning, but it was clearly delusional, which is probably why I also bought 5 magazines at the airport.

Missy was of a more tempered mindset. She just brought along 1 book; Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. She expected that I would have heard the buzz surrounding this tween novel because I "read everything and know about all the good books". I do spend an inordinate amount of time and money at Barnes & Noble, but somehow this particular novel had escaped my radar, probably due to my sick obsession with romance novels (reading is supposed to make you smarter, but sometimes it just makes you horny.)

Anyway, after applying a generous coat of SPF 999, I tried valiantly to dive into the Kite Runner, but soon came to realize it's not exactly 'beach reading'. And then I noticed that Missy wasn't reading her book, but instead my magazines, so I started thumbing through her 'easy' book. And that is the last thing I remember.

I. Love. These. Books. They are spectacular. True love between a lonely teenage girl and an immortal vampire, not the most original concept. But something about the way Ms. Meyer writes, the emotions she is stirs, the agony she depicts, the intense longing that Bella and Edward feel for each other, it speaks to me. Loudly. I never thought I would find another author I could enjoy the way I did J.K. Rowling, but I have. Stephenie Meyer. She will never win the Pulitzer, but she has won my affection and respect. And, let's face it, isn't that far more valuable? It is. I know :-)

Twilight will always remind me of that trip to Mexico I took with Missy. We laughed, we cried, we(I) drank margaritas excessively and came home with a 2Nd degree sunburn. It was wonderful! I hope this post has compelled you to begin reading Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn (a.k.a the Twilight series). It will bless your life, I promise. And, as a bonus, then we will have something to talk about that doesn't involve my weight problem or your husband and 2 kids! Isn't that special?!

Spooktacular!

Halloween '08. As close as you'll ever get to Disney Magic...until next year.

Claire was Minnie Mouse, she just preferred not to wear the ears. They were jocking her style.

Molly's Sleeping Beauty was not very tired. Kid ate about 6 lbs of sugar that night. Champion.

Sometimes, Beauty just feels a like being the Beast. But she does it with great style. Even her pinky finger is raised! Go Erin.

Hey there, Little Red Riding Hood. You sure are looking good! You're everything the Big Bad Wolf could want.

Again the Magic

More Stella shots, just to warm your heart. Sorry if the cherry eye grosses you out, but imagine how she must feel.

Must Love Dogs

This post doesn't have much to do with nannying or kids, but I wanted to add it anyway so you could really connect with me on an emotional level (which, let's face it, is the real reason you read this ca ca, isn't it?) I want to introduce you to someone I find pretty freaking cute.

I have never been what you would call a 'dog person'. In fact, until fairly recently you might have called me a 'dog hater'. Not all dogs, just the dumb ones. Unfortunately, dogs aren't the brightest of God's creatures (they sniff each others butts, lick themselves in public, dry hump pretty much anything available when they're in the mood) so I have never had a deep affection for canines. But all of that changed when I met Stella.

Stella Blue Simon.

My dad and my siblings and I chipped in to buy my mom a puggle for Christmas about a year and a half ago and I think it was the best decision we have ever made (definitely better than the costumed concrete goose). Stella has brought much joy and excitement into all of our lives and she is so freaking cute I can barely stand to look at this picture. But check out that face! And her teddy bear! That's right, Stella has a teddy bear. She tore out his stuffing and ate off his face, but I think that's just the way she shows affection, so we overlook it.

Stella loves to greet people at the door, shaking her butt and/or the entire lower half of her squat body, carrying her bear companion in her mouth whilst squealing with delight in the back of her throat. It's the greatest feeling in the world, knowing there is something in this world that loves you that much (until she jumps up on you when you're wearing a skirt and scratches the crap out of your fleshy inner thigh with her demon claws.) She is irresistible and I challenge you to come meet this bitch and not fall in love with her.

It should be added that Stella developed something called 'cherry eyes' a few weeks after she came to live with my mom. They tried to fix that, but the doctor who preformed her 'no puppies for you' operation somehow managed to muck that up so she has one cloudy glaucoma eye and one nasty cherry eye. But she does just fine for herself with 1/3 of her original vision still in tact. She sleeps in my parents king sized bed, receives a new toy or outfit every week and eats at least half of everything my mom eats so don't pity this one-eyed puggle. She don't need your sympathy. Oh, and she has the world's cutest Halloween outfit. It's a monkey suit and it's completely bananas! Don't worry, I'll post pictures later.

That's about all I've got for right now. I need to stop blogging after 10pm, because I always end up staying awake way later than I had originally intended. It's a good thing my job has a 2 hour block reserved for rest everyday. I like to refer to it as 'shut the hell up' time, but most of you probably just call it a 'nap'.

the pursuit of happiness

Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.

Albert Schweitzer

For the past 6 months or so, I've been helping plan my 10 year high school reunion. At first, I wanted nothing to do with it. I'll even admit that avoiding reunion planning was the driving force in my Chicago/New York/London job search. This seems ridiculous in hindsight, but after careful examination I've discovered why I was so afraid of this damn reunion, and it can be summed up in one little word.

Failure.

There was a voice inside my head that taunted me on a daily basis. It screamed, "You've accomplished nothing so far and the future doesn't look so bright either, my friend." For a long time, I believed I was wasting my life, serving little purpose and living in defeat. It seemed that all my friends were following a clear path in life while I was unable even to locate my starting point. They were getting jobs, getting married, getting pregnant and all I was getting was overworked (by my 3 part-time jobs) and overweight (by ice cream and carry-out Chinese). There were brief moments of aspiration in there, including a stink in grad school, plans to work for my church, and even dreams of an extended European sojourn. But none of these things panned out and typically left me drifting and convinced I had tried and failed, yet again.

But the one constant for me has been this position as a nanny. I don't know how and I don't know why, but it seems to have stuck. And while I am not delusional enough to believe that I will be a nanny forever (unless Brad and Angelina find me and ask me to join their globe trotting crew), I know that this is exactly what I am supposed to be doing right now. Maybe not tomorrow, but definitely today. I LOVE these girls. They are the children of my heart (sorry, did you just throw up a little in your mouth, cause i did).

Nonetheless, I feel like it's a privilege to play a part in their upbringing. No, this was not my ideal career path, but oddly enough, it has become a bit of a dream job. I don't wear a business suit (more often it's my standard black pajamas), I like the people I work with (minus the occasional temper tantrum), I can watch all the television I want (mostly PBS kids, but I'm not a hater) and on a bad day I can go to my mom's house and she'll make me lunch (grilled cheese or PB&J, but I'm not finicky).

Yes, I would love to make more money and sometimes I wish my job looked better on a resume ('mad diaper changing skills' doesn't speak to everyone). But I have discovered that the only thing really holding me back from my happiness was me. I thought that money, status and a smoking hot body would grant me some kind of security, but obviously that is not true (case in point, Lindsey Lohan). And I would like to thank you, Albert Schweitzer, for the above quote which so eloquently expresses that which my life has taught me so far.

Oh, and I plan to hold my head high at that damn reunion. And

'Failure', you can kiss my ass.

P.S. Might I stress that the 'voice inside my head' is not literal. I am not schizophrenic (or so my counselor assures me), just prone to maudlin sentiment and self-pity.

This Vicarious Life

Perhaps the best part of life as a nanny is that I can, and often do, indulge my secret love for all things preteen. Through subtle suggestion and manipulation, Erin will become convinced that she loves the Disney Channel movie Camp Rock. Therefore, I will be forced to watch Camp Rock a minimum for 5 times a week for a period of about a month. I will complain about it to my friends and family, but secretly, I have an odd, twisted yet non-sexual crush on Joe Jonas (who plays the lead male character, Shane Gray). Erin has their sheets on her bed, but I pointed them out to her in an online Target advertisment. And since Erin loves the Jo Bros now, I guess I'll just have to buy her their newest CD for Christmas and we simply must listen to it in the car every day after school.
Thankfully, these phases burn bright and pass quickly. Eventually, one of us (me) will get tired of this particular brand of synthetic pop music and attempt to distract the girls with some other inane mass marketed teenage group or fad. It's a vicarious cycle, but someone's got to do it.

P.S. This Sunday my sister Eileen and I are 'taking the girls' to see High School Musical 3 : Senior Year in the theaters. Will Troy and Gabriella relationship survive into college? Can the East High Wildcats win the championship game? And whatever will Ms. Darbus do when Sharpay and Ryan graduate? These are all questions I will soon be able to answer. And then, my shame will overtake me and I will lie to you about how 'lame' it was and how I only went because I promised the girls I would.

But the truth is...

We've been planning this for months.

I already know what I'm going to wear.

The soundtrack is playing on my iPhone as I type.

It will be epic.

I am a tool.

Meet the Peeps

Now that you have a bit of a feel for me and my neurosis, here's the rundown on the kids for whom I am sometimes responsible.

On a weekly basis I spend about 30 hours with Claire Elizabeth, 21 months. She is the baby of the family (for now anyway) and is right smack in the middle of my favorite stage of childhood. She's a curious, cuddly, opinionated and simply darling girl. She spends a lot of time 'reading', shoving little toys into her purses, draping herself in costume jewelry, speaking gibberish, asking for Mama and Dada, begging for snacks and snuggling with me while we watch Elmo. She loves 'auggies' (aka doggies) but gets terrified if you put curlers in your hair (and I'm not kidding, that kid can scream like no other.) I think Claire might end up becoming a vegetarian which could seriously complicate menu planning for Kathy (their mom) in the future considering the fact that her husband doesn't eat dairy. So....edemame for everyone!

Molly Katherine is the middle child and the definite spitfire of the family. At 4 1/2, she is very petite and has doll-like features. HUGE brown eyes, a cheeky grin, sweet round cheeks and a little blond bob. Molly tends to attract the most attention from strangers and acquaintances alike. She is so freaking cute and when you mix that with her coy personality and mischievous grin, she can be quite the entertainment. The girl LOVES candy, things that are 'sparkly gold and sparkly pink', wearing dresses and aggravating her sister Erin to no end. She HATES the colors black, brown and gray and is still learning how to pronounce the letter R. You know how riding a roller coaster is about the most fun you can have, but it can also give you an enormous headache. That's Molly.

Erin Bridget is the oldest and the wisest (at least she thinks so). She asks infinite questions, adores school and learning more than any kid I've ever known, is reserved around people but adventurous in play, kind of a know-it-all, dedicated to justice and equality (especially if it appears Molly might receive more treats or less punishment than herself), and loves to write and draw. Erin is a very deep kid who thinks about God and Heaven a lot and sometimes asks questions like, "Annie, does Jesus love us more than he loves cheeseburgers?" Erin is a lot like Hermione Granger, minus the whole 'being a witch who lives in a magical castle with her best friends Ron Weasley and Harry Potter' thing. But her mom does work in the dental profession. Eerie, I know.

More to come. Did I mention that Kathy is pregnant with a fourth?!

Deep Thoughts at Nap Time

I fear that I am profoundly unsatisfied because constantly I struggle with the dignity and the depravity of life. I can be completely content and utterly restless for 'more' simultaneously. More passion, less shame. Less burden, more love. More food, less fat. Less numbness, more truth. While I take pride in my work, I am still a touch embarrassed to tell people what I 'do' for a living. There are times when this is enough, but on occasion I despair to think that I live a artificial life. I am a mother, sort of. A grown up, maybe. A traveler, infrequently. A dreamer, emphatically. A maverick....nah, I'm not going there :-)

However, I am frequently struck bythe thought that, to an outsider looking in, my life may seem like a game of make-believe with no clear end in sight.

Someone told me once that I am an expert at killing hope. She said that I 'retreat to my cave of fatalistic ambivalence' in order to avoid disappointment and failure, both in myself and in those I love. I am still working through that, digesting it if you will. Because, quite frankly, to me that mindset sounds dangerous. Like a solid defense against pain, but also against joy. Deep, nourishing, abiding joy. And if I am to be honest, truly honest, it is not suffering I am wary of, but felicity.

So, what do you do?

My name is Annie and I am a nanny. I am in the business of childcare. My profession exists to facilitate yours. *You* go to work every day in order to provide for your family, and you need me (or people like me) to help you do just that. I will watch your child, feed your child, protect your child and love your child in your absence.

However, I am not a parent. I have no children of my own. It is my greatest hope, and the one thing I am certain I was designed to do well. But for now, I will struggle to be content with loving your children, and loving them well.

I love my job. Waking up and going to work seems to be a chore for some people, but not so for me. I look forward to Monday mornings. I don't mind dirty diapers. I anticipate playgroup. I enjoy Sesame Street. I adore nap time! I heap praises on your children when they do well and I uphold discipline when they misbehave. And at the end of the day, I get to go home and sleep uninterrupted!

I reap most of the benefits of parenthood, without the cost. Most. Because, don't forget, these are not my children. I am not their mother. And while I love your family, it is not my own. I'm still waiting to discover if a husband and children are at the heart of my story. But thank you for inviting me to play a part, however insignificant, in your own.


*please note 'You' is being used in universal terms*