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 Friends pitch in for a few hours, realize how hard it is, and never offer again. 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.
©2007 Logan Hill and Nerve Media
About the Author
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Logan Hill is a contributing editor at New York magazine. |
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