You Can Buy Love: Why I’m Happy to Pay for a Nanny.
Why I'm happy to pay for help
When our first child was born a year and a half ago, we figured we’d be able to mostly handle taking care of her ourselves. Where I come from (North Carolina), families help out. Here in Brooklyn, New York, my wife and I had lots of friends who said they’d love to babysit. We had relatives giddy at the thought of us having a baby. Besides, we hated the idea of hiring anyone to do anything in our little apartment. That whole idea of having staff, my wife and I whispered, just smacked off spoiled-bratism and lazy-assism. Neither of us grew up with “hired help” of any sort, so the word “nanny” conjured images of posh British estates and plantation life.
Well, we got over our nanny-angst real fast. Within a couple of months, we were sleepless and wrecked and needed to get work done. Our daughter was collicky, and we’d taken off all the time we could. We were also, most days and nights, alone. Our friends and family visited, sure, but we realized very quickly that in the city, there is no village to raise your child. There is only you and whomever you can afford.
That sounds cynical, I know. Before having a baby, I would have dismissed the snotty bearer of such tidings, but now I know that it’s true. Certainly, family and friends offer to help. “If you ever need anything . . .” they say. “I may take you up on that,” you say. “Anytime!” they say. They rarely call up and say, ‘How about we help out tomorrow?’ And when you call them and ask: They’re too busy. They say yes and show up late. They pitch in for a few hours, realize how hard it is, and never offer again. And the worst part is this: you can’t get mad at them because they are doing you a favor. You’ve just got to be grateful for whatever help they’re giving you, however little help it actually is.
My incredible mother-in-law offered to pitch in on a regular basis and actually showed up. She has driven into town to take care of our daughter two days a week, saving us tons of money and spoiling our daughter silly with rapt attention. My mother-in-law is phenomenal, and I don’t know what we’d do without her, but still, I am not, in any way, her boss. If she wants to take a three-week vacation, or miss a few days at the last minute, I can’t complain. I have no claim. My wife and I just cancel our plans and cover.
Hired help, on the other hand, I can get set rules for, make demands on, get mad at. I can even fire them. We interviewed twenty or so sitters and hired one who seemed lovely, but she turned out to be terrible. Our daughter hated her. It was like she broke out in some kind of allergic reaction every time she saw the sitter, only with screams instead of rashes. The nanny started missing days, so we fired her. It felt, oddly, good. The transaction was clean. Nobody’s feelings got hurt. She was supposed to show up and be good with our daughter. We were supposed to pay her $12/hour. If either of us broke that bond, we could terminate the relationship. And we did.
I sometimes fantasize about firing my friends. Because, when your friends say they would “love to sit!” for you one Saturday night so you can go out to dinner, there is no such contract. There is only good will and a level of commitment you can only determine when the friend either does or does not show up on time and you do or do not miss the movie you’d been looking forward to all week. It’s nice when it happens, sure, but you can’t count on it.
I can count on my nanny more than the relatives who love my daughter more than life itself. We have friends whose mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters promised round-the-clock babysitting for the first year, two-days-a-week, three-days-a-week, weekend babysitting, the occasional evening. I have a friend who missed weeks of work because a mother-in-law promised to help out full-time, and then changed her mind right before the mother’s due date. Another friend of ours went to drop her six-month-old son off at her friends’ apartment after they’d cooed and promised to watch him so she could go to the theater. They said to drop him off at 6:45. She arrived on time to find nobody home, then sat in their stairwell with the baby until 7:30. When she got them on the phone, they cheerily said they were “running late, but on their way!” They finally got there, but she cried the whole way out to the theater, where she arrived late and depressed.
We have a new nanny now, who we love. She’s responsible, funny, bright and patient – all those buzzwords in the Craigslist ad were true. I respect her because she knows what she’s doing. I like her because she literally sings and dances with our daughter. I trust her because she’s got more experience taking care of children than I do. I adore her because, when our nanny opens the door in the morning, my daughter barks, “Bye-bye!” to me, like she can’t wait to see me go to work.
But I love my nanny because I pay her, which I’ve learned means I can count on her more than the relatives who love my daughter more than life itself. Aside from the rare doctor’s appointment or sick day, she’s here every day. And that’s not because she loves my daughter so very much, or because she wants to give us a hand, but because this is her job, she’s a responsible person, and she needs the money. She’s not doing us a favor, she’s providing a very valuable service – and we compensate her for it. As new parents, we’ve learned that, when it comes to childcare, money is a more powerful incentive than love.
Feeling “guilty” about participating in the labor market seems a bit condescending and patronizing. If you pay your employees a fair wage and offer a respectful work environment, then you should feel proud and grateful that you make enough money to afford the services you need while contributing to the economy.
That’s not to say that it’s not a wonderful thing to have a big, extended family that can provide help. But that only works in societies where certain classes of people (women, young people, old people) are not valued as much and thus can’t earn enough money in the free market, so they end up doing domestic work for below market wages.
It’s the reality of our economy and culture.
I completely concur — my associations with the word “nanny” have changed dramatically during the last 2 years of my son’s life. My experience has been that most nannies grow to truly love the children they care for, much like like a close aunt or friend of the family. Think about it — there are not many $12 per hour jobs that people do for 20 years if they don’t genuinely enjoy the work Here’s how i think of it: each person that loves your child is like a jet in jacuzi of love. The more love the better. At the risk of taking a position in the “mommy wars” — which i don’t want to do, because i have great admiration for women who care for their children full time — i think its extremely difficult for one person or two people to give a child as much love and nutritious stimulation as three or four caregivers can give. My mother was a stay at home mom, she was an extraordinarily loving and affectionate and inspiring mentor for me as a child. But she was annoyed about 50% of the time — i don’t blame her with three kids — and it may have been better for us to have seen a bit less of her in a better mood a higher percentage of the time.We can’t help but feel some guilt, however, because it is a deviation from leave it beaver america. My fantasy is a team of 6 julie andrews (sound of music) -type governesses who make play clothes out of the draperies, teach our children to sing and let us both play with kids and continue to have a rich, spontaneous adult life. One of the many gifts i hope to give my children is a happy father (and mother for that matter!). Parents who are engaged with their children, yes, but who are also a rapt students of life. Parents who enjoy work, a rich community of friends, and the cultural era in which they live. It’s not an easy proposition, and if anyone can pull it off without nannies (or some very supportive relatives) i would love to know how you do it.
Jacuzzi of love. Ha ha.
You’re asking how people without paid help or supportive relatives (and I assume friends) can engage with their children, be rapt students of live, enjoy work, have a rich community of friends and enjoy the era in which they live?
My response, I suppose, is simply to have realistic expectations about life. If you want all of the above and not be annoyed 50% of the time to boot and be well-rested and in a good mood all the time I think that there simply is not a “how”. It’s not possible.
It’s like the software development triangle. On the three points are “Time”, “Quality” and “Cost”. You can have two of the three.
The baby triangle has – suprise – the same exact points. Time, quality and cost. OK – maybe change them slightly to “Activities” (time), “Mood/Stress” (quality) and “Help” (cost). You can have two but not three. If you drop help you either choose to do everything you want by yourselves and be tired and stressed and if you drop activities you basically spend your time caring for your child and sleeping/resting to maintain mood and moderate stress.
It’s not perfect – but it seems to make sense.
you’re quite right, k1, i think the time/quality/cost triangle applies well.
…or to put it in homespun terms… there’s cheap, good, and fast. Pick two.
I learned when my daughter was 3 weeks old not to expect much out of
family members. My parents left on a Baltic cruise (scheduled &
paid for before I knew I was pregnant, to be sure), my husband went
back to work, and my mother-in-law, a keen student of the clock,
ever-so-magnanimously offered a couple of hours a day a few days a
week.
Heh. Thank GOD I went back to work and found an awesome, affordable daycare.
And finally we have a couple of good sitters for occasional grownup
outings…. much much better than family, though we do accept ironclad
offers for free sitting from grandparents. Forget counting on anyone
else.
And my Midwestern side asks, “When does a ‘sitter’ become a
‘nanny’?” I know I was disturbed by my husband’s East Coast
friend calling our 4 hours/week, $40 cleaning lady a “maid.” How
silly.
My motto: when you need help, it’s always best to call in the pros!
You only pay your nanny $12/hour? See, the reason I don’t have one is because I can’t afford to pay one a living wage. In Brooklyn, I don’t think $12/hour cuts it.
This article was really refreshing. I’ve had it up to here with moms who would Never Ever Actually Hire A Stranger to care for their children. I’m not blessed with many local relatives, and the ones I do have will help me out in a pinch, but certainly not on a frequent or regular basis. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without Care.com– I’ve found several *excellent* sitters, who my children love, who I can call when needed. My kids are now school-aged, so I don’t need a nanny, but it’s great to be able to go out on a Saturday night with my husband and know the kids are with a good, solid, fun, responsible sitter. It can be time consuming and frustrating finding good childcare, but honestly, it’s out there. (For anyone interested, I think the site is still running a promotion– you can get a discount on joining if you use the code CLUBMOM.)
I am a nanny. Most of the time I love it, and it can be downright fantastic with the right family. I have often thought I should write a book for parents, like “The acquisition, care, and keeping of nannies.” Maybe I will!