What Happens When You Hire Someone to Love Your Kid—and They Leave?
On processing childcare changes, PLUS: A simple hack that tricked my kids into cleaning up.
After a year and a half of spending 20+ hours a week with our 2.5-year-old, our nanny Kate’s* last day was Friday. Her plan is to move out of state to join her family’s business, and while we absolutely can’t blame her (and definitely don’t take it personally!), we’re…incredibly sad for our daughter, for us, and, quite unexpectedly, for Kate.
Kate came to us at a time when we just could not figure out a childcare setup that worked. I was perfectly fine (ok, sort of fine) with pounding out my freelance work during naps and late into the night so I could be a present parent by day. But David was adamant that this was not healthy or sustainable. As I hate to have written before, he was right. And so I made it my personal goal to find someone who would make Emma feel as loved as she does when she spends the day with me—a pretty high mark considering how many times I typically eat her face per hour.
A few months after Emma’s first birthday, we hired Kate, a friend of a friend, a part-time student, and an actual ray of sunshine. We introduced her to a toddler who, as we used to half-joke, hated humans. But somehow, she returned to us a talkative, well-adjusted little lady who breaks it down when the DJ drops a beat at Trader Joe’s, looks adults in the eye when she speaks, and is bursting with joy 99.9999999% of the time.
While Kate isn’t a parent, she’s close enough to my age that she could have passed as one while pushing our stroller around Brooklyn or showing anyone her camera roll: I’m pretty sure she’s taken almost as many photos of Emma as I have. She brought Emma to music, art, ballet, and soccer, and told anyone who’d listen—namely me and David, lol—that Emma was the best, smartest, and cutest child in every single class. Kate shared croissants and tomatoes and picnics with Emma. She planned playdates, setting Emma up with a little girl who would have been her first best friend...if it weren’t for Kate, who’d already filled that role.
For me—and for Emma, I’m sure—this has been the best case childcare scenario. But now? It’s over. And we’re all left to wonder what happens when someone who’s not family genuinely connects with a child, then moves on.
It’s not lost on me that teachers and counselors do this at the end of every school year and summer, respectively. Even career nannies do it every few years. But man. Isn’t it weird? I’m so happy that a child I brought into this world like, yesterday, has already had a profound effect on someone. At the same time, I’m bummed: She’s so young, with memory so fleeting and communication skills still rudimentary. How often do early relationships last after a child and unrelated caretaker part ways?
In the weeks leading up to Kate’s last day, I explained to Emma that while Kate loves her very much, we wouldn’t be seeing her daily anymore. Without remotely understanding how her life was about to change, she looked at me and said, “But I love Mommy.”
At the same time, Kate was becoming increasingly teary when handing off Emma at the end of her shifts. On their final day together, Emma was napping in her stroller by the door when Kate left our apartment keys on the counter, and whispered goodbye, for good. Or for now?
Again: I’m not sure what’s to come of their relationship. I mean, what are the options here? Should I shower Kate with photos and videos of Emma, as requested? Schedule a FaceTime? Or give Emma and Kate the space that, deep down, I know they both need to move forward?
I’ve already arranged for some new “friends” to watch Emma over the last few weeks of the school year so I can work. This summer, she’ll go to camp, and in the fall, she’ll go to 3K—so eventually, there would have been a time for us to part ways with Kate, anyway. It’s just that I never expected it would be this hard—for all of us—to let go.
*Of course I changed her name.
I’m not saying I’m a genius, but on a recent rainy afternoon after my kids and I exhausted this viral bubble experiment (it worked! Skip the food coloring unless you’re masochistic, and do it in the bathtub!), I shifted gears to construct a waste paper bin out of…construction paper.
In tandem, my kids had been experiencing a renewed appreciation for scissors, and I was done picking up their goddamn paper scraps—beginning with scrap number one. But because I’m me (and had already yelled enough that day), I resolved to send the message passive aggressively. Alas, my bin project was born.
Both the process and product captivated my kids, who helped by handing me tape, holding the paper in place, picking marker colors, etc. Upon completion, I caught Shay filling our shoddy vessel with scraps, then emptying his new “can” into the real garbage without so much as a suggestion from me(!!!). First I kvelled, then considered retiring. I won’t, but still give this craft 5/5 stars—and I didn’t even steal it from Pinterest!