Archive | August, 2011

Professional Mom?

16 Aug

I’m thinking of changing my “Nanny” title to “Professional Mom.” Sounds more official, right?

Here are some of the skills I’ve honed in the last year and a half:

1. I can predict when a baby is going to vomit, and grab a towel in time to clean it up. Voila! No mess.

2. I can tell the difference between sad cry, happy cry, hungry cry, and sleepy cry.

3. I can carry a carrier AND a 2 year old simultaneously. (Hello arm strength! Roar!)

4. I can interpret almost every word out of Jackson’s mouth (very impressive when “applesauce,” “octopus,” and “up the stairs” all sound like “ah-po-pouf.” It’s all about context, guys.).

5. I have at least 5 of the Baby Einstein dvds completely memorized (Music, Scene order, etc. There is no real dialogue.).

6. I know all of the classic nursery rhymes, most of the hand motions, and all of the songs that go along with them. (Thanks to my Mom, for reading me “The Real Mother Goose” about a million times in my childhood.).

7. I can go to the grocery store with 2 kids and a huge list and get in and out in less than an hour.

8. I can change a diaper in 30 seconds flat. With one hand.

These are just some of my many skillz, but I think they’re pretty good. The title “Professional Mom” should definitely apply, right?

I recently saw a blog post that I laughed out loud at, for how closely it resembles my everyday life. It has a top ten list of reasons that having a toddler is like being at a frat party. Here are my favorites:

#8: It’s best not to assume that the person closest to you has any control over their digestive function.

#6: Probably 80% of the stains on the furniture contain DNA.

#4: There’s definitely going to be a fight.

Guess I didn’t miss out on too much in college, huh?  Haha! You can read the rest of the post here.

The thing about nannying that makes the title “Professional Mom” more apt is that it’s not all fun and games. I am the “mom” all day (read: maid, cook, disciplinarian) and when I leave, the parents get to do the playing. Pretty sweet deal, if you ask me.

My job consists of joys like the meltdown Jackson had the other day when he wanted a bite of my strawberry. I said, “Of course you can have some of this huge strawberry! Just take a bite!” The tiny problem I overlooked is that Jackson doesn’t actually know what a “bite” is. So he proceeds to attempt to fit the entire strawberry in his mouth. Which almost worked, but obviously wouldn’t have gone well from there, so I pulled it out of his mouth a tiny bit and tried to coerce him to bite the end of the strawberry. Of course, Jackson interpreted this as me taking away the strawberry, and dissolved into a fit of tears. 3 times.

This stuff is not for sissies.

I love my life. 🙂