Bird Lady

The Fish Lady

I am on a two year quest to find a babysitter. Our old babysitter was an anomaly who replied to every text, and loved taking jobs. A shopaholic whose expensive purse collection wasn't fully funded by her day job as a preschool teacher, she had the ambitious workaholic attitude capitalists wish all consumers had. Her love of shopping was a plus for Kiki who responds very well to fancy dressed, good looking people. If someone shows up in a skirt with dangling earrings she happily waves goodbye to me, but if they are wearing jeans with their hair sloppily thrown in a bun she clings to my leg and screams as I leave the house (which is strange because my daily uniform is the latter).

When my reliable, pretty, and workaholic babysitter informed me she was marrying her boyfriend who joined the NAVY and moving across the country to North Carolina I congratulated her and gave her a hug, but cried inside.
Since then, I ask people with teenage daughters if their daughter babysits. The parents always reply, "Yes, my daughter is great with kids, and she loves to babysit." Then, after I text or call this potential lifesaver, she never replies. Stone walled by the teenage girl. I am starting to feel like the frumpy, smart, dork in a coming-of-age movie.
I am not be deterred in my efforts. Lately, I approach nannies at parks to ask if they are interested in babysitting at nights. I asked the lifeguard at the swimming pool. It is such a great gig; I leave after George is asleep, and I pay them $15 an hour. They can make $60 watching cartoons and laughing with a three year old.
The potential sitters always tell me, "yes, I like babysitting," but then don't respond to my phone calls and text messages. I hope my desperation doesn't lead me to seek out a half assed child care provider. I will find a suitable lady, someone marvelous, like Mary Poppins.
We watch Mary Poppins frequently and I am beginning to understand the nanny culture of upper classes. How wonderful to keep your kids at an arms distance. It can only make the child love you more because they know how short their time is with you. The nanny has to deal with all the grunt work, and the parents get the kids when they're captivated, attempting to gain more of their parents' affection by being smart, funny and well mannered.
Surely, the parents miss out on heart warming times, like sing-a-longs in the car, or reading fifty books on the couch while guzzling coffee, or going grocery shopping and explaining that fruit snacks are the worst possible thing a person can eat while they scream and cry in disbelief.

We watched Mary Poppins last week at my parents' house. My dad stood behind the couch as Mary sang "Feed The Birds," then my dad asked sadly, "Is the bird lady going to die?"
Maybe its the nurturer in me, now that I'm a mother/full time nanny, but I gently informed my dad, "Eventually. We all die. But the bird lady lives through this movie." Worried it was a lot for him to digest, I suggested a spoonful of sugar. Then I rummaged through the cabinets and tossed him a bag of fruit snacks. Like a boss!