The Nanny Poach

I did it. Last week, I tried to poach a nanny. I was meeting a friend for coffee at a local cafe. I was early since it takes me an extra 15 minutes to figure out the fancy stroller I had to have. I got lucky and the stroller just popped into place the first time. I was sitting down, baby in stroller minding my own business when a young, blond, impossibly skinny girl walked by with a child in each hand. I took one look at her and knew she had never given birth. How did I know? Trust me, when you know, you know. She and her charges sat just one table over from me. I knew I only had minutes to make my move. So, I did. I commented on how cute the kids where and asked how old they were. Idle chit chat, blah, blah, blah. I knew my time was waning so I had to get to it. I asked her if the kids looked like her or her husband. Then bingo! She replied that she was the nanny. I laughed sheepishly, playing the part. Then went in for the kill. How much longer did she think she would be with them (these kids definitely looked like they should be in school)? Did she enjoy her job? She could probably sense my desperation at this point because she curtly replied that she was thrilled to be with her family. So, I retreated but resorted to Plan B. Do you have any friends? I knew it was a longshot since now I looked like a psycho Mom. She said no. Shocking! Fortunately for me, my friend showed up and we both went on with our lives. Thankfully, my son is not old enough to understand what was going on and the sheer embarrassment his mother displayed in the cafe that day. And, no surprise, I am still nanny-less.

Back It Up

I can't go back. Literally. I am stuck. How did this happen? Let me explain. Last week, we were having some work done and I had to temporarily relocate my office to our guest bedroom. I had known about this for some time however, as usual, waited until the last minute to do it. I carted everything I needed into the guestroom and put it all on the bed for the time being. I was working on my laptop and placed it open on the bed. Bad move. Lulu jumped on the bed and on to the laptop keyboard. She claims she was trying to locate her birth mother but this is another story alotgether. I come back and see her on the laptop, go to remove her and hear a pop. I looked down and see where my "backspace" key used to be is a hole. I panic. Without backspace, everything becomes permanent. I can never undo anything. I get on my hands and knees and start to serach for the key. I find it wedged between the headboard and the wall. Releived that I have found it, I think I can just reattach it. I place the key over the hole and press. The key falls to the floor again. I pick it up and gingerly place it over the hole and press. Alas, it will not stick. So, I have no backspace key, just a void where it used to be. And this is why I am stuck and can't go back. Sigh...........

9/11

I would be remiss if I didn't write an entry about 9/11. I remember it today like it was yesterday. In fact, I remember the night before and last night I remarked this to CityCrab and he agreed that he also remembered it. It's not often that you remember something so vivid this many years later. I remember what I was doing at this exact moment. I remember what I was wearing. I remember what other people were saying. I remember seeing the whole thing happen, like some distorted movie, from my office window. I remember it all. And today I will carry it with me, like the burden it is.

Hurricane Season

Now that I live in the South, I have to be concerned with hurricanes. So, from August through November I am a hurricane watcher. I honestly didn't think I would become obsessed with weather until I was at least 60 but I suppose I have been burdened early. Here's what hurricane season brings with it: The ability, at any given moment, to know hotels in 5 inland areas that are made of sturdy construction and allow pets. The fact that the large pieces of wood that came with our house and are sitting in the garage are hurricane "shutters" that will need to be placed over our windows. The reality that the evacuation street signs posted along the major roads should really just read "this means you" with a big arrow. Having a series of bags ready, at all times, with important papers, diapers, baby formula, dog food, medications and, oh yeah, a change of underwear for me and CityCrab. If you haven't heard from me in awhile you can rest assured that I am holed up in a hotel room with CityCrab, CityBaby and our 2 dogs, eating cheese doodles and listening to a transistor radio in the dark. See you in December.