<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:02:13.505-04:00</updated><category term='vacation'/><category term='cape town'/><title type='text'>The Ex-Nanny Chronicles in Manhattan</title><subtitle type='html'>NYC is a concrete jungle on the edge of childcare madness, where the mothers always appear to be on the brink of Hysteria. The nannies who crowd the sidewalks with giant strollers and grocery bags, their loud voices screaming into their cell phones while their charges cry are no better. I am on the outside looking in and let me tell you, as an ex au pair, I do not always like what I see!)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-7091390024936201284</id><published>2008-09-02T20:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T20:22:44.136-04:00</updated><title type='text'>90210</title><content type='html'>It should be called 9021NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned on the telly and aged a decade in the opening credits.&lt;br /&gt;It is like watching a bad version of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OC&lt;/span&gt; coupled with the hills. I hunger for the lives of the old characters. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;uuuggghhhh&lt;/span&gt; I am ancient and 90210 might just suck.&lt;br /&gt;I is 22 minutes into the show and I hate it already!&lt;br /&gt;Bring back the old cast...save us all from this skinny girl crap!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-7091390024936201284?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7091390024936201284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=7091390024936201284&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7091390024936201284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7091390024936201284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2008/09/90210.html' title='90210'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-1415929327662691453</id><published>2008-05-31T14:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T14:52:42.772-04:00</updated><title type='text'>CHARITY</title><content type='html'>To the world you might be one person, but to one person you might be the world.&lt;br /&gt;---Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously have to do something for all the children in the world without anyone to help them, no water to drink and no place to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking of starting a charity.&lt;br /&gt;A foundation.&lt;br /&gt;Or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I just have to take some of the money I would normally donate to people on the subway, street &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;beggars&lt;/span&gt; etc and take it with me on my trip to South &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Africa&lt;/span&gt; and literally buy babies food and deliver it on the doorstep of a township day care centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;uuuggghhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;. What&lt;/span&gt; to do, What to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This rant is due to me volunteering at the foster home today. I have been doing this for almost a year and it still messes with my mind to see these children!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-1415929327662691453?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1415929327662691453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=1415929327662691453&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1415929327662691453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1415929327662691453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2008/05/charity.html' title='CHARITY'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-1687406390273999474</id><published>2008-04-17T00:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:00:24.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring is here</title><content type='html'>Oh, the weather in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;NYC&lt;/span&gt; is fantastic this week.&lt;br /&gt;The cherry blossoms are in full bloom and the sun is out and the sky is a lovely clear blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Coming&lt;/span&gt; up....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spring cleaning is number 1 on my list and then maybe a little decorating.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shawn and I are planning a trip away--I have booked my ticket to South Africa and I cant wait!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am going to be gone for 6 weeks.... 6 glorious weeks of fun and family!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;HAPPY SPRING!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-1687406390273999474?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1687406390273999474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=1687406390273999474&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1687406390273999474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1687406390273999474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2008/04/spring-is-here.html' title='Spring is here'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-7436478958059364785</id><published>2008-04-14T23:08:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T23:14:39.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love thy Nanny....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But not too much!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Click the &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ok-magazine.com/posts/view/5914/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; to read about &lt;em&gt;Nannies and the Famous Men who Love them&lt;/em&gt;.....more than they should!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-7436478958059364785?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7436478958059364785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=7436478958059364785&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7436478958059364785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7436478958059364785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-thy-nanny.html' title='Love thy Nanny....'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-6662231453003981334</id><published>2008-04-08T09:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T09:26:03.507-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nanny Drama</title><content type='html'>Celebrities and their Nannies......&lt;br /&gt;Always a story, well here is another one!&lt;br /&gt;Click the icon below for the story on Rob Lowe suing his Nanny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tv.yahoo.com/rob-lowe/contributor/28750/news/urn:newsml:tv.eonline.com:20080407:8ae73730_a668464d_9928_e7054fa6a3e4__ER:84865"&gt;Click&lt;/a&gt; Here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-6662231453003981334?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6662231453003981334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=6662231453003981334&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/6662231453003981334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/6662231453003981334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2008/04/rob-lowes-nanny-drama.html' title='Nanny Drama'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-419325321867213383</id><published>2008-03-20T21:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:08:15.008-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are nannies worth it?</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine called me talk about her boss who is now after one year, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;complaining&lt;/span&gt; about her nanny rates!&lt;br /&gt;After one year of top-notch care!&lt;br /&gt;My friend tells me that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; pay-day rolls around the corner, her boss starts to complain about not being able to afford to pay such high rates!&lt;br /&gt;This from a woman who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; work..oh wait--she lunches and calls it work...Her husband is extremely successful, they have an Upper East Side 4 floor home, a holiday house in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hamptons&lt;/span&gt; and a country get away somewhere down south!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend has a teaching degree, 10 years of nannying experience, can speak 3 languages and play 2 musical instruments. How is she not worth $20 an hour?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get what you pay for. Some families can only afford $10 an hour! I understand that and quite frankly, they will get what they pay for, sometimes even more than they pay for. But&lt;br /&gt;for those families that can afford a nanny, and say that they deem their children to be their most prized &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;possession&lt;/span&gt;, but want to pay $10 or less, and snuff at anything more expensive, I say "shame on you".&lt;br /&gt;$20-35 an hour is what nannies in NYC charge and should be considered getting a reasonable deal! Like everyone else, Nannies have to pay NYC rents people. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Thats&lt;/span&gt; upward of $1200 for a one bedroom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that if a person really cant afford it, then I would understand not going the way of the nanny. But if one can afford it, why not hire the best and pay her what she is worth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can have your child in the best hands ever for a fair wage or you can buy a hardcover book. I must admit that I am observant, I see that many NYC mothers are walking around with bags that range from the many hundreds to the many thousands of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dollars&lt;/span&gt; and then they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;guffaw&lt;/span&gt; at an expensive nanny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the grand scheme of things, the mother who says $35 an hour is a lot, might be right! It just depends what you get for that hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a 4 hour day, what would your itinerary on a winter day looks like?&lt;br /&gt;One of my nanny-friends, (foreigners stick together) shared her schedule. She jazzes it up every once in a while by adding a language here and there as well as a musical instrument!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Theme day of Gingerbread.&lt;br /&gt;1. Bake Ginger bread cookies...learn about measuring, math and have fun getting messy.&lt;br /&gt;2. While oven is baking, wash up and clear activities and then read the gingerbread man story book.&lt;br /&gt;3.Take out the cookies to cool. Do an art project about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;gingerbread&lt;/span&gt; men...puppet or make a gingerbread house out of a shoe box.&lt;br /&gt;4. Decorate cookies...wrap some up for friends&lt;br /&gt;5. Create our own story, make a book about it or a poem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worth more than $10 an hour! I think so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get ample years of experience, fun educational activities and quite frankly, peace of mind. So to my friend, the overqualified nanny Monika who contacted me to complain about parents complaining at her rate, I say move on to someone else. In fact use that number I gave you and leave this family in the dust. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Dont&lt;/span&gt; dare let them make you feel bad about charging your worth! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Dont&lt;/span&gt; let them make you question your value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those parents who complain to me about the rates your nannies charge you...I understand that you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want to feel taken advantage of, but when your nanny is paying their cleaning person more than you pay yours....WE HAVE A PROBLEM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, take your expensive handbag and tell someone who cares. Prioritize people. Prioritize!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-419325321867213383?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/419325321867213383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=419325321867213383&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/419325321867213383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/419325321867213383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2008/03/are-nannies-worth-it.html' title='Are nannies worth it?'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-8225776284018082607</id><published>2007-12-08T23:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:16:35.329-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nanny in action....OR NOT</title><content type='html'>Picture this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, all flustered from running to volunteer at a clothing drive in a fancy Montessori school on the UWS. I arrive on time, early actually, school is out, but the the sorting wont start for another hour. So, I head into the parents room for a cup of coffee and a few moments to catch my breathe. A little girl stumbles past me, almost trips over her shoelaces, so I lean down to help her tie her shoes and glance up to see a nanny asleep, snoring, loudly on the window seat and a little girl sucking on some sugar packets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: (to little girl sitting at sleeping &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nanny's&lt;/span&gt; feet): What have you got there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: A cup of sugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;You're&lt;/span&gt; eating it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Its very bad for your teeth, I am sure your grown-up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; like you eating that.&lt;/strong&gt; (nursing school rearing its ugly head)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl:  (she points to her nanny)-- She said I could. Now she is asleep. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ssshhh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; wake her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Is that your mommy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: No, my nanny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Oohh&lt;/span&gt;, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know if she should be sleeping, her job is to take care of you and sleeping while out in public isn't safe for you&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: But she is tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-----Nanny is literally snoring!--------&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: I think I am going to wake her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: But she will still be tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----girl empties the entire 1/2 cup of sugar into her mouth.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another little girl buts in to the conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl 2: Nannies &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl 2: ( in a very serious tone) Its illegal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I laughed, but I was still shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;couldnt&lt;/span&gt; believe that a nanny literally slept on the job, at a private &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-school, in the common area.&lt;br /&gt;What is going on?&lt;br /&gt;She slept and the girl chugged sugar.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This world of nanny-life in New York, just gets crazier and crazier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-8225776284018082607?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8225776284018082607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=8225776284018082607&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/8225776284018082607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/8225776284018082607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/12/nanny-in-actionor-not.html' title='Nanny in action....OR NOT'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-407118517926879031</id><published>2007-10-19T12:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T13:35:40.612-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving NYC</title><content type='html'>My husband and I are about to head on a little trip..just the two of us.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so lucky, because my husband booked us a weekend away in the hamptons, at a wonderful resort, with an ocean view...aaahhhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click on the highlighted links to see our rooms and hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are staying &lt;a href="http://www.duneresorts.com/default.asp?"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our &lt;a href="http://www.duneresortsvirtualtours.com/new/oceanbeach/vtd.html"&gt;room&lt;/a&gt; ...wait for the java to load and watch as it spins a 360 to an ocean view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and by the way... my husband is a fantastically talented writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To read his latest piece, click &lt;a href="http://johnniefootball.com/archive/guest/2007/10/18/johnnie-gameday-in-manhattan/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-407118517926879031?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/407118517926879031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=407118517926879031&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/407118517926879031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/407118517926879031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-husband-and-i-are-about-to-head-on.html' title='Leaving NYC'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-2849964082026257872</id><published>2007-10-05T19:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:02:21.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>LETS PLAY CATCH UP !</title><content type='html'>I have taken on a lot since my last post, so here is an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;update&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have started working with Good Shepherd Services in their foster care facility, I only work a few hours a week, but I am loving it.&lt;br /&gt;On Saturdays I am monitoring parental and child visits -- much like the ones Brittany Spears will have to attend-- and on Mondays I am working in the home-finding department re-certifying foster parents and their homes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...I am still in school, working toward that nursing degree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; realize how much time all of this would take up, so I applied for (and was offered) a position reviewing books for a romance website. I have agreed to review 6 books a month and I swear of all the things I have taken on, this one takes up most of my time.&lt;br /&gt;The best thing about the review position is the website - which I love- and the other reviewers, not to mention all the free books. Now if only I had 4 more hours in the day, well then I could really get everything done.&lt;br /&gt;The website is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nightowlromance&lt;/span&gt;.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having all of this on my plate has practically eliminated television for me, so thank god for ABC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;abc&lt;/span&gt;.com is the best site on the planet.&lt;br /&gt;You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; even have to watch television anymore. All I do is set aside a night ( usually Friday) and then log on and catch up on all my shows.&lt;br /&gt;It is like having &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tivo&lt;/span&gt; without having to pay for it. There are hardly any commercials, so an hour show takes 45 minutes and you can check you email during commercials. I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have already watched the 2 episodes of Private Practice (my new favorite) I am in the middle of Ugly Betty and planning on watching Desperate housewives next. I plan on making dinner, writing part of a Nutrition paper and all this before my husband gets home at 9pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how I love modern technology...now if I could just add 4 more hours to the day, it would all be perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-2849964082026257872?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://nightowlromance.com' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2849964082026257872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=2849964082026257872&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2849964082026257872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2849964082026257872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/10/lets-play-catch-up.html' title='LETS PLAY CATCH UP !'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-66515776546507892</id><published>2007-09-03T15:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:22:35.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fabulous Q&amp;amp;A with a nanny that speaks about American Parenting.&lt;br /&gt;I agree with her 100%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://local.babble.com/content/articles/columns/5minutetimeout/Claire-Verity/"&gt;http://local.babble.com/content/articles/columns/5minutetimeout/Claire-Verity/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-66515776546507892?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://local.babble.com/content/articles/columns/5minutetimeout/Claire-Verity/' title=''/><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://local.babble.com/content/articles/columns/5minutetimeout/Claire-Verity/' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/66515776546507892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=66515776546507892&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/66515776546507892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/66515776546507892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/09/fabulous-q-with-nanny-that-speaks-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-7991855178490610708</id><published>2007-09-03T14:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T14:43:10.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spending to impress</title><content type='html'>My almost-13-year-old charge is about to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;celebrate&lt;/span&gt; his Bar M&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;itzvah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to escape the outrageous expense and over-the-top celebration that is usually required by Manhattan standards, they decided to celebrate it outside of the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What started as an escape from abundance has turned into an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;extravagant&lt;/span&gt; beach party at an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;exclusive&lt;/span&gt; club in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hamptons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The expense alone is more than the average person can afford and I am sure it is going to be even more over the top than it would have been in the city. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Fortunately&lt;/span&gt; for my charge, his parents have really made it all about him and his friends and the people who care about him, but I see his mom battling to keep herself from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;becoming&lt;/span&gt; entwined &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; the other mothers money games in a race to impress the peerage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do parents spend, literally tens of thousands on this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it mostly to impress their friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These Manhattan Bar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mitzvah's&lt;/span&gt; are like weddings, when really it should be about the experience. I have on more than one occasion heard many mothers talking about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;upcoming&lt;/span&gt; celebrations, all of them mentioning the money and the fabulous cost and expense of creating the best they can afford. And nobody wants to be the one not to be able to afford the best of everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like they are bragging or something. It is quite nauseating to watch and be part of any of their discussions..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 10 of my charges friends are celebrating their Bar M&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;itzvah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; this year.&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the comments I have been witness to and part of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I am afraid our invitations were too tacky, yes they cost a few thousand, but one still worries about such things"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I said that I refuse to pay $5000 for flowers, but I can't live without the custom made brown &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;suede&lt;/span&gt; sofas"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is going to cost more than most weddings"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" .....forget the expense, I want ours to be the best"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I cant spend enough money on this..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Oh and it goes on.&lt;br /&gt;And on!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-7991855178490610708?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7991855178490610708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=7991855178490610708&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7991855178490610708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7991855178490610708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/09/spending-to-impress.html' title='Spending to impress'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-8881947243689565906</id><published>2007-08-29T21:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T15:30:10.215-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I will be your nanny Charlie Sheen!</title><content type='html'>Finally, Charlie Sheen says something that makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;Basically, that an Assistant and a Nanny are not the same thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Until I’m granted the ability to hire my own nanny, she is required to provide one and I was terribly insulted that she felt her ‘assistant’ was a suitable replacement. If it’s unfortunate that I’m speaking, it’s ‘unfortunate’ that an incredibly loving and responsible father and his terrifically capable fiancée are being subjected to these transparent and unnecessary sanctions, that have nothing to do with responsible co-parenting and everything to do with punishment and control. As long as I am forced to live under these conditions with my children, people are going to hear about it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Charlie Sheen, in a statement released on Tuesday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;found on perezhilton.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-8881947243689565906?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8881947243689565906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=8881947243689565906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/8881947243689565906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/8881947243689565906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-will-be-your-nanny-charlie.html' title='I will be your nanny Charlie Sheen!'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-1642597352043110182</id><published>2007-05-26T20:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:25:36.927-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Belated Easter Antics</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069040619030348946" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 200px; height: 176px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljZlglUhJI/AAAAAAAAABs/_GSOxY-X7s8/s200/S7001128.JPG" width="200" border="0" height="210" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My husband and I spent Easter in Minnesota. I had such a great time with our niece and nephews: Brock, Brady, Brandt, Bronson and Brandi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It reminded me of my aupair year in 1999--aaahhh I was a nanny for a week. How I have missed it.&lt;br /&gt;We decorated egg, bunny and chick shaped cookies and made bunny and chick nest cupcakes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here are some photographs that exhibit our fabulously fun, activity filled weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljO2wlUhBI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OFLNlqRFeWQ/s1600-h/S7001105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069028820755186706" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljO2wlUhBI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OFLNlqRFeWQ/s320/S7001105.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljXdAlUhHI/AAAAAAAAABc/fVaCCWheRzs/s1600-h/S7001136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069038273978205298" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljXdAlUhHI/AAAAAAAAABc/fVaCCWheRzs/s320/S7001136.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljWXwlUhCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vZXrtxFA864/s1600-h/S7001106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069037084272264226" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljWXwlUhCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vZXrtxFA864/s320/S7001106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljWXwlUhCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vZXrtxFA864/s1600-h/S7001106.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljWXwlUhCI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vZXrtxFA864/s1600-h/S7001106.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-1642597352043110182?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1642597352043110182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=1642597352043110182&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1642597352043110182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1642597352043110182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/05/belated-easter-antics.html' title='Belated Easter Antics'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RljZlglUhJI/AAAAAAAAABs/_GSOxY-X7s8/s72-c/S7001128.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-2591661897950434301</id><published>2007-05-06T14:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:26:22.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It is coming to the end of the school semester. I have 3 weeks left and then I am on Summer vacation. I cant wait, I already have the sunglasses out, the summer sandals are making a few rare appearances and I am ready for the warm wind to blow out my hair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have just signed up for summer classes, I am sure we will still make a few trips out to the beach. I know I will have to work my butt off in school, but the warm weather will make it all worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-2591661897950434301?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2591661897950434301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=2591661897950434301&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2591661897950434301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2591661897950434301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/05/summer-fun.html' title='Summer Fun'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-3344341357860032934</id><published>2007-05-02T21:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T17:08:56.257-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ham Steak?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RkjPe6sA4pI/AAAAAAAAAAk/pRju5vh6XeA/s1600-h/S7001244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064525911035011730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RkjPe6sA4pI/AAAAAAAAAAk/pRju5vh6XeA/s400/S7001244.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; HAM STEAK........&lt;br /&gt;Ever heard of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband is baffled by me having a name for a large thick slice of ham. I call it and believe it to be, a &lt;em&gt;Ham Steak&lt;/em&gt;. He refuses to call it a ham steak. He just wants to call it Ham.&lt;br /&gt;He even called his mother, so that she could verify his claim.&lt;br /&gt;So, yes, I do admit, it is ham, but what about differentiating it from its lunch cousin the &lt;em&gt;sandwich ham, &lt;/em&gt;or its holiday sibling the R&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;oast&lt;/span&gt;/Hot Ham?&lt;/em&gt; How are we to know which ham we are buying, if we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; have different names for different cuts and styles of meat.&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong here people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, call it what you like my dear, either way, its what you're going to be eating for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Ham Steak, Tater Tots and Buttered Corn......a dinner fit for a 5 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;HAM STEAK &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;my love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-3344341357860032934?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3344341357860032934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=3344341357860032934&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/3344341357860032934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/3344341357860032934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/05/ham-steak.html' title='Ham Steak?'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RkjPe6sA4pI/AAAAAAAAAAk/pRju5vh6XeA/s72-c/S7001244.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-4094477992480918665</id><published>2007-03-27T17:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:28:18.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another day of Spring</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us in Cape Town 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046723960775198834" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RgmQtCF1SHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/xgLtORE1f4I/s320/S7000349.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is almost spring vacation and I cant wait.&lt;br /&gt;I started packing for our trip weeks ago..I do that.&lt;br /&gt;I get ahead of myself and now I realize that I can't remember what I packed and I have to repack the entire suitcase as well as consulting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;weatherbug&lt;/span&gt;.com for the Spring the forecast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good right now.&lt;br /&gt;Exams are over, vacation is on its way and my husband is, as always: delicious.&lt;br /&gt;He is such a good man that sometimes I have to pinch myself, just to make sure that I am not dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;A few things are going on right now.&lt;br /&gt;Because Spring is here and I am feeling bright, I made a colorful list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We are getting ready for our trip to Minnesota.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I bought two fabulous floor lamps at Target...and I have my eye on a brand new sofa..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sshhh&lt;/span&gt; don't tell my husband, because he really wants a lazy boy. Can you believe that?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Our accountant is done with our taxes, so we get to sign the papers tomorrow. Money back is always good.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shawn, my hubby accepted a full-time job at a magazine, not his dream job, but he appears to be taking one for the team. I guess I should really get him some sort of lazy-boy-style chair after all.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;My father-in-laws birthday is coming up and Shawn and I have gotten him the best present ever. He is going to love it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am trying to make healthy food choices, but often fail....hence my anticipation for our trip to Minnesota and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;carb&lt;/span&gt;-loading zone of &lt;em&gt;Macaroni Grill.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;It has been 94 days since we left for south Africa and I miss my family. But the good part is that we will go back, just not right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I am tired of blogging now. GOODNIGHT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-4094477992480918665?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4094477992480918665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=4094477992480918665&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/4094477992480918665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/4094477992480918665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/03/it-is-almost-spring-vacation-and-i-cant.html' title='Another day of Spring'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_LyNqdXrfPws/RgmQtCF1SHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/xgLtORE1f4I/s72-c/S7000349.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-7160761886666229848</id><published>2007-03-21T10:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:29:03.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SPRING</title><content type='html'>Today is the first day of Spring.......Yippeeeeeeeeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we were in Africa for most of the dreaded Winter, but since we have been back I felt like Winter would never end.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the cold will start to subside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another good part about Spring for me, is all the cleaning. spring cleaning is my favorite activity. Like an early Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont have school today, so I am spending this afternoon with my friends 4 year old. I am picking her up from school and we are going out to lunch and then to &lt;em&gt;Diller Quaille&lt;/em&gt; school of music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant wait to see her little face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-7160761886666229848?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7160761886666229848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=7160761886666229848&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7160761886666229848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7160761886666229848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/03/spring.html' title='SPRING'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-2437207590736792178</id><published>2007-03-10T18:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T18:38:13.255-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nursing Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/5kVv2aqnEjs' name='movie'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/5kVv2aqnEjs'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am a terrible blogger because I am working hard at school. Maybe this will help you forgive me for my tardy posts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-2437207590736792178?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2437207590736792178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=2437207590736792178&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2437207590736792178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2437207590736792178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/03/nursing-back.html' title='Nursing Back'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-1607791233587767415</id><published>2007-02-17T19:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T19:48:50.495-05:00</updated><title type='text'>YESTERDAY</title><content type='html'>I met my husband 5 years and 1 day ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that specific and amazing day, that a hunky, tall, kind, Midwestern boy walked off &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Amsterdam&lt;/span&gt; Avenue in Manhattan and into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Alligator&lt;/span&gt; Alley Bar and changed my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the best and most important day of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-1607791233587767415?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1607791233587767415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=1607791233587767415&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1607791233587767415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1607791233587767415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/02/yesterday.html' title='YESTERDAY'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-1822720918441181833</id><published>2006-12-21T21:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T21:41:07.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiatus</title><content type='html'>Thats right.&lt;br /&gt;I hope to be able to post something here and there, but if not, I will only be back to blogging in February.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will have lots to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy holidays and Happy New Year everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-1822720918441181833?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1822720918441181833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=1822720918441181833&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1822720918441181833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/1822720918441181833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/12/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-2442568634670040335</id><published>2006-12-02T18:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:30:57.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking in SLOW....</title><content type='html'>I got a crock Pot.&lt;br /&gt;A slow cooker.&lt;br /&gt;It's Red, and sassy, just like my microwave.&lt;br /&gt;It seriously makes me all warm and fuzzy inside!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so domesticated now, that I made a Pot Roast on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It literally took me 15 minutes before school to put it all in the pot.&lt;br /&gt;I went to school and  by the time I got home, all I had to do was slice it up and eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband loved it and took the leftovers to work the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe how easy it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight Shawn is taking me out for dinner. Then tomorrow I am going to roast a chicken, but Monday, I am going to try to make Pulled Pork sandwiches.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so Midwestern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years ago - when I loved the night life, when I was staying out all night with my friends, arriving home at 4 am and writing in my spare time, who would have thought that down the line I would be celebrating my crock Pot?&lt;br /&gt;Not me, thats for sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I just heard that my father-in-law is wondering why I would use a crock pot when I'm such a great cook (which is true, so true! lol). It's so fast and easy, but most of all I like the idea it's like magic! You don't do a thing. You put a slab of meat in a pot, go away for the day, come home and it's all done and delicious. Magical!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-2442568634670040335?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2442568634670040335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=2442568634670040335&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2442568634670040335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/2442568634670040335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/12/taking-in-slow.html' title='Taking in SLOW....'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-7041222653423654398</id><published>2006-11-25T17:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T21:14:47.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MOLD FREE AT LAST</title><content type='html'>Our closet is finally mold free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness, because I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; know how much longer I could have slept in the living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago, sleeping on the sofa bed was like participating in the discovery of a new Japanese &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;torture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; device.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn and I thought we would eventually be able to train ourselves to sleep standing up, because nothing could have been worse than sleeping on that futon.&lt;br /&gt;So, after 2 torturous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, we moved our bed into the living room and have been sleeping &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, but it feels like we are living in a studio again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;apartment&lt;/span&gt; looks like a bomb hit it, there is no order at all, we have piles of laundry that need to be sent out, tons of clothes we have to throw away because of the mold and an entire room full of junk that has accumulated from the chaos.&lt;br /&gt;This has been one hectic week, but thankfully tonight...it comes to an end!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to move our bed back into the bedroom tonight. I am supposed to be mopping the bedroom floor right now so we can move the bed back into the room and Shawn has run out to pick up some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Caesar&lt;/span&gt; Salad and Buffalo Chicken tenders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to celebrate having our bedroom back, by having an indoor pic-nic on our wonderful bed, in our fabulous bedroom and by watching a sweaty, hunky, somewhat creepy Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible 3. - Thank you N&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;etflix&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-7041222653423654398?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7041222653423654398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=7041222653423654398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7041222653423654398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/7041222653423654398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/11/mold-free-at-last.html' title='MOLD FREE AT LAST'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-8560355795365091083</id><published>2006-11-20T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T13:15:01.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Smelly Mold!</title><content type='html'>For two months our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;neighbors&lt;/span&gt;/friends who live in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;apartment&lt;/span&gt; below us have been having breathing problems, chest pains and wheezing. A few weeks ago, their puppy developed asthma.&lt;br /&gt;Now last week, I have gotten a cold and headaches etc.&lt;br /&gt;Today after our downstairs neighbor told us to look in our closet, I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;appalled&lt;/span&gt; to find that the back of our closet was wet and yucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a huge built in closet, and behind all the clothes and shoe racks, it is filled with mold. Apparently there is a leak in the wall and it has dripped down to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;apartment&lt;/span&gt; below us.&lt;br /&gt;Their closet is an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Amazon&lt;/span&gt; jungle of mold. We are all sick and panicked, so we called 311 to see if we need the health department to check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Thankfully&lt;/span&gt;, our super is sending &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt;, but who knows how long this has been going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Of course&lt;/span&gt; it has to happen around Thanksgiving, when we are already in chaos trying to organise a fabulous dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I sprayed the mold with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;bleach&lt;/span&gt;, yes, the bleech spray from the post below - I still love it&lt;br /&gt;I think it kills everything, so why not mold too. And now all I can d&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt; is wait, and wheeze and cough and hope the mold spores aren't toxic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any advice from anyone who has dealt with this before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to go empty our closets and throw out all the damaged goods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Uuggghhh&lt;/span&gt;, the life of a New Yorker, if these old buildings could talk, who knows what they would tell us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-8560355795365091083?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8560355795365091083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=8560355795365091083&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/8560355795365091083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/8560355795365091083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/11/smelly-mold.html' title='Smelly Mold!'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-5005756035198320722</id><published>2006-11-17T18:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:33:17.735-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, so many excuses</title><content type='html'>From the sporatic blogging I have done over the past few months, one might assume my blogging quest has fallen by the wayside. But I gaurantee you that it has not. In fact I "&lt;em&gt;think"&lt;/em&gt; at many times throughout the day. Juat today as I was walking home from school, I was thinking about so many reasons I have not kept my blog up to date.&lt;br /&gt;here are just a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;College is hectic, tests, classes and chaos&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thanksgiving is coming and I am prepping the apartment for our fabulous soiree&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our trip to South Arica is just around the corner and I spend every waking moment planning it and deciding what to wear in make-believe situations that just might occur when we get there lol&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;volunteering after college, with the kids for two afternoons, steals a whole two days of my week&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; I am trying to get into a fitness regimen. I am still in the sitting on the sofa and thinking about it, rather than doing it phase, but I working on it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am lazy. right now anyway. there, I finally said it. I just cant seem to sit in front of this computer and blog a thing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I read too many blogs, that by the time I finish reading them I am suffering from eye strain and in need of my icy mask.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Too many people I know personally read it..yes I am talking about you guys..the parents... so I limit the juicy sex gossip....which leads to posts about cleaning and lists about why I dont blog.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I am online I am playing scrabble. I have become a word junkie. Actually, I am trying to prep myself for what I am sure is going to be a scrabble war between us and my parents in south Africa. they are scrabble nuts and know something like 100 2 letter words that dont make sense.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-5005756035198320722?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5005756035198320722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=5005756035198320722&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/5005756035198320722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/5005756035198320722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/11/oh-so-many-excuses.html' title='Oh, so many excuses'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-4157274940346109540</id><published>2006-10-16T19:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T19:23:51.468-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cape town'/><title type='text'>Cape Town Here we come!</title><content type='html'>Shawn and I are planning our t&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rip&lt;/span&gt; to the mother city of Cape Town, South Africa.&lt;br /&gt;We are about to buy our tickets and I am so excited, I could puke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are planning to leave Saturday the 23rd of December and stay &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;until&lt;/span&gt; the last week of January. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; 5 or more weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully I get the entire January off from College, which means we get to spend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt;, New Years Eve and a whole lot of weeks on the beach, sunning ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;But best of all, we get to see my family and relax a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to put up a time zone counter for Cape &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Town&lt;/span&gt; and a Countdown clock in my link section. Its all I know how to do, but if anyone knows how to add a graphic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;counter&lt;/span&gt;, please email me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant wait.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to start packing tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; tell anyone, but I have already started packing...&lt;br /&gt;I know we have 2 months to wait, but you can never be too prepared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-4157274940346109540?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4157274940346109540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=4157274940346109540&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/4157274940346109540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/4157274940346109540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/10/cape-town-here-we-come.html' title='Cape Town Here we come!'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-115741858851948053</id><published>2006-09-04T20:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:28.121-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm not running anymore"</title><content type='html'>I spent the day walking and wondering around the streets of Upper Manhattan, enjoying the greenery and fresh air.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I ended up at a huge Jennifer Convertible's showroom. The smell of leather couches romanced me into entering.&lt;br /&gt;I spent ages gazing at the prices and eventually found myself lounging around on the gorgeous furniture in the clearance section. I ended up becoming friendly with the manager, who hates her job and is at the end of her rope.&lt;br /&gt;We spoke abut life, money and crappy jobs.&lt;br /&gt;Her name is Joanne, and she is fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As part of her exit, she is clearing out the showroom and literally offered me 50% off the clearance price. You have to love bitter sales people with 2 weeks left at their awful job.&lt;br /&gt;I am going back tomorrow to finalize my sale......Now I just have to talk to my hubby about forking over the cash first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaving the showroom I walked to Broadway where I bought a juicy yellow mango on a stick from a lovely Dominican woman. She cut and peeled the mango into a flower shape with edible petals and attatched it to a long skewer stick.&lt;br /&gt;I munched my mango while waiting for the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arriving at home I was in a crafty and bloggy, happy, dipsy and musical mood.&lt;br /&gt;I blame the fresh mango.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I blog this, while listening to John Mellancamp's greatest hits....... And ofcourse, I am waiting for my glue gun to heat up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am crafting fancy, ribbon hairclips for a crafty swap. They are going to be beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, gotta go!&lt;br /&gt;The glue gun is ready and John is singing for me to &lt;em&gt;dance naked!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-115741858851948053?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/115741858851948053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=115741858851948053&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115741858851948053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115741858851948053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/09/im-not-running-anymore.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m not running anymore&quot;'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-115584158285419602</id><published>2006-08-17T14:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:37:10.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>East vs. West</title><content type='html'>From what I have heard and what I have seen, the mothers and the nannies on the East Side are VERY different than those on the West Side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me know if I am wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The mothers "job" is to look stunning and make herself available for charity functions&lt;br /&gt;- The cook, the cleaner and the laundress are 3 differant people, all from other countries.&lt;br /&gt;- The other nanny also sounds Brittish( yes there are 2 of you)&lt;br /&gt;- The mother calls you her &lt;em&gt;nanny&lt;/em&gt; and isnt ashamed to say that you work 24 hrs/6 days a week.&lt;br /&gt;- There is a computer in the kitchen, for recipes and cleaning tips for the staff.&lt;br /&gt;- They have an elevator in their appartment&lt;br /&gt;- Their staff shops at Citerella&lt;br /&gt;- They have two, side by side dishwashers.&lt;br /&gt;- They never mention money&lt;br /&gt;- They talk about you as if you weren't there&lt;br /&gt;- They eat raw food, fresh veg and sometimes yoghurt&lt;br /&gt;- They are always on a diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WEST SIDE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The mother works, and if not, her "job" is checking her email.&lt;br /&gt;- The cook, the cleaner and the laundress is the same person from an impoverished country.&lt;br /&gt;- You are the only nanny&lt;br /&gt;- The mother refers to you as the &lt;em&gt;babysitter&lt;/em&gt;, implying that you only work part-time.&lt;br /&gt;- There is a file of epicurious recipes and every cookbook imaginable on the kitchen shelves .&lt;br /&gt;- They live in a 5th floor walk-up or a 4 story brownstone with no elevator.&lt;br /&gt;- They order from Fresh direct or shop at Fairway.&lt;br /&gt;- You are the dishwasher&lt;br /&gt;- They always talk about how expensive things (including you) are&lt;br /&gt;- They talk about you behind your back&lt;br /&gt;- They eat whole grains, tofu, fondue and pasta&lt;br /&gt;- They are always on a diet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-115584158285419602?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/115584158285419602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=115584158285419602&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115584158285419602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115584158285419602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/08/east-vs-west.html' title='East vs. West'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-115583569401666637</id><published>2006-08-17T13:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:38:15.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger Slacker</title><content type='html'>That's me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am never able to keep up with this blogging. How do some of you do it?&lt;br /&gt;I am going to try to be more up-to-date&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I have been up to in the past month!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Getting my husband on the passport bandwagon&lt;/strong&gt;...My 31-year-old husband, like most Americans I know, doesn't have a passport!&lt;br /&gt;So I have been collecting forms, filling them out and now we are almost complete. I just have to cut his hair and walk him over to the photo booth by the end of next week. I kid you not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Taking exams for Chemistry, Math and English&lt;/strong&gt; so I can eliminate them from my schedule for the Fall. I am enrolled at City University of NY for their Nursing program at BCC as a transfer student. It is a very exciting and anxiety ridden time. That College Chemistry exam was like reading Japanese. I had no idea what it was about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I have been &lt;strong&gt;Spring cleaning my apartment and helping a friend (Ana) move&lt;/strong&gt; into the building next door. Her fiance is in the Netherlands, he is Dutch and he will only be arriving permanently mid-September. Instead of paying for movers, she has decided to hall all her shit on the subway system. It has taken her around 12 trips, but we have finally done it.&lt;br /&gt;This Saturday she is going to hire a U-haul to help her move her bed and dresser and then we are off to IKEA! I can't wait, I have my eye on a cool looking sleeper sofa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Setting up my new sewing machine&lt;/strong&gt;. I still haven't used it. But I will...I have plans, big plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Planning a bridal shower&lt;/strong&gt; for my friend Ana. She is getting married in September. I have made the invites, they are super cute and now all I have to do is plan the menu, call everyone and come up with a plan for gifts, games and entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Gathering all my documents&lt;/strong&gt; for our Immigrations interview...whew, that in itself is one huge fiasco!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, I am &lt;strong&gt;trying hard to get my digital camera up and running&lt;/strong&gt; so I can post some photographs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living right now is my full time job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, I am going to try to blog more, but first, I have to move our bookshelf into the living room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-115583569401666637?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/115583569401666637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=115583569401666637&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115583569401666637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115583569401666637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/08/blogger-slacker.html' title='Blogger Slacker'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-115379924497894986</id><published>2006-07-24T23:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:27.936-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My husband spoils me.....</title><content type='html'>Yes he does!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With gifts and flowers and kisses galore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday was my birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only did my hubby pick up a giant bouquet of flowers from the florist, but he was in co-hoots with my family in South Africa and actually printed out a beautiful note from them and stuck the note onto the flowers. It melted my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also personally delivered an ice-cream cake, took me out to Lunch and then later out to a glorious Dinner at a fabulous bistro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, the cherry on the cake was that he bought me a brand new sewing machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My first one ever!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited to figure out how to use it. I have been wanting one for ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know, you all want him don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you can't have him, because &lt;strong&gt;HE IS MINE!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-115379924497894986?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/115379924497894986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=115379924497894986&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115379924497894986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115379924497894986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-husband-spoils-me.html' title='My husband spoils me.....'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-115219435303681259</id><published>2006-07-06T09:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:44:36.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost back to NYC...But not just yet!</title><content type='html'>Oh NYC, place of humidity and heat.&lt;br /&gt;You are hot, steamy and don't allow me to come up for air......You are my mistress!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I love you and hate you at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait for you drive me crazy with all the noise, the late nights and the waiting.&lt;br /&gt;But I could do without the heat and the condensed hot air that threatens to smother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will spend many days in my bedroom, writing in my notebook while snuggling down under my duvet, with the door closed, the t.v on and the air conditioner running.&lt;br /&gt;It might as well be Winter, because I will fight with all my strength not to leave the apartment for hours and maybe days at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I do, I pray the trips are short and the destinations are cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a partner in crime and Carrie, I think you are it.&lt;br /&gt;We have to head to a movie theatre in Times Square on the hottest, most humid day and just stay there. We will pay for one move and sneak into as many as it takes for the day to pass.&lt;br /&gt;How long can you sit in one place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess we will find out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-115219435303681259?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/115219435303681259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=115219435303681259&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115219435303681259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115219435303681259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/07/almost-back-to-nycbut-not-just-yet.html' title='Almost back to NYC...But not just yet!'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-115176380977962179</id><published>2006-07-01T09:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:50:40.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Project Girl</title><content type='html'>Me relax?&lt;br /&gt;How?&lt;br /&gt;I have been having a very relaxing summer, even though I feel like I am going a little stir crazy.&lt;br /&gt;Those who know me, are aware that I am ridiculous and like having something to do.&lt;br /&gt;I am a project girl.&lt;br /&gt;I attack life as one big calendar of events and while this might be tiring to those around me, it invigorates me. I love the hunt and chase of a new project. The thrill of finding something to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, maybe I am more like crazy Tom Cruise than you all think!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on vacation and I am not suppose to be doing anything.&lt;br /&gt;I should be nothing.&lt;br /&gt;My husband insists I&lt;em&gt; "kick back and relax".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are away from NYC, in a place with wonderful people, doing nice things for one another. I am having a great time and I have loved going into pause.&lt;br /&gt;The hardest thing to do so far has been trying to get out of nanny mode!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I am out shopping, I automatically gear toward things for kids, I miss being an aupair, but nannying in NYC is just out of the question. Where can I find a job where my job would be to hunt high and low and spoil and educate children without footing the bill. mmnnhhh?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also getting involved with strange parents and their kids on the street. I have to learn to keep my opinions to myself and get a darn job lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a few couples we met up with have interrogated me about nannying and childrearing. I know they are seeking advice, and  I love dishing out, but how do I stop thinking and acting and responding like a nanny? I mean seriously, my aupair days were years ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you go back to before you were once a childminder? And if I have to think about it, I babysat for years in South Africa. So I would have to go back to 1990.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I think I am off to a good start.&lt;br /&gt;I have, taken a 3 week vacation with my husband, where our main goal is to do nothing but relax and have fun.&lt;br /&gt;I am in week #2 and planning the rest of my Summer, but first, on my husbands orders, I have to relax some more. How much more relaxed can I get? I am basically a housewife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just dont know if I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have some cool stuff planned, like a rummage sale and garage sale today, followed by coffee at a quaint coffee shop.... I love old things and then we are going to travel to his sister in Fulda Minnesota for July 3rd and 4th.&lt;br /&gt;Then we off to his parents for the rest of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not been back to NYC for over 2 weeks now. It is a great feeling to be away, but I can't help thinking about what to do when I get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am going to start nursing school in the fall, but will that be enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after thinking long and hard about things. I have come up with a plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to spend the remainder of the Summer and well into the fall I am going to...................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;DO ALL THE THINGS I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO, BUT NEVER HAD TIME TO LEARN OR EXPERIENCE&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old fashioned way.&lt;br /&gt;Apprentice style.&lt;br /&gt;Learning from books, t.v and the people around me.&lt;br /&gt;I am still busy making the list, I am so excited, I can hardly wait.&lt;br /&gt;What kinds of things? (you might be wondering)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here are a few I am thought about...They are just thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Learn how to create a soft serve ice-cream cone&lt;/strong&gt;. (It looks so easy, but in high school I tried and failed miserably, so I didn't get the job at &lt;em&gt;Milky Lane&lt;/em&gt;, the malt and ice-cream shop.....And now 13 years later...It still haunts me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Learn how to quilt. &lt;/strong&gt;I have always wanted to learn, but never had the time. Hey, I think one of Shawns 80 year old aunts knows how to quilt. I might have to take a lesson from her, only problem is that she lives in Minnesota. But that's right near Shawns sister, and we will be in the area next week...hhmmmmm maybe I will be able to learn from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Learn how to change the oil on a car&lt;/strong&gt;. I know how to check it, but change it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Make an edible pizza from scratch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Make balloon animals.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Throw a dinner party for 6 on under $30 &lt;/strong&gt;(almost impossible you might say. But is it?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Develop photographs in a dark room.&lt;/strong&gt; (where do I find a dark room and what am I thinking?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and there is so much more.&lt;br /&gt;I think I will aim for about 50 or so.&lt;br /&gt;I will post my list when I am done and see how to get this baby off to a good start.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea where to start. I think I am either going to change this blog a little, or start another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will let you know when I figure it out and I will let you know how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-115176380977962179?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/115176380977962179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=115176380977962179&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115176380977962179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115176380977962179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/07/project-girl.html' title='Project Girl'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-115091044728400899</id><published>2006-06-21T13:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:27.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Naughty Nights</title><content type='html'>My husband and I are 3 hours away from checking into a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;theme hotel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. oohh I am so excited.&lt;br /&gt;We are going to be staying over in the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Castle&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; themed room for 2 nights. I plan on spending as many hours in the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;dungeon hot tub&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; as I possible can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nest 3 days are going to be jam packed and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;deliciously naughty!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are due to check in at 3:30, jump in the hot tub, then get ready for a very special 7pm b-bq we have been invited to. When we get home tonight, we will jump back into the hot tub and stay there until I am so wrinkled I will have to crawl out and climb right into the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;giant, king sized, red-velvet bed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning I will jump right back into the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;hot tub&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; until my husband drags me out so we can go exploring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow night, we have tickets to a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;fabulous show&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and I am sure we will grab dinner somewhere, then I plan on jumping back in the hot tub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I tell you, there is going to be almost as much &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;hot-tubbing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; going on in our suite,as there was in season 3 of the &lt;em&gt;"Bachelor"&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares if it is beautiful and warm outside.&lt;br /&gt;I will be indoors, enjoying the hot tub, the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;velvet sofa's&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and room service. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will blog all about it later.&lt;br /&gt;I have to go find that &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;bubble bath&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I packed for this trip!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-115091044728400899?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/115091044728400899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=115091044728400899&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115091044728400899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/115091044728400899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/06/naughty-nights.html' title='Naughty Nights'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114895629062474944</id><published>2006-05-29T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:27.379-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Fever</title><content type='html'>I have spent the past 4 days Spring cleaning our apartment.&lt;br /&gt;I've been meaning to do this for weeks, because a few hundred dust bunnies that were taking up residence under our bed had to be evicted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I packed away the Winter and Fall clothes to make way for all our Summer ensembles. I mopped, swept, moved furniture, threw out magazines and filled a huge cardboard box with books to be donated to our local library.&lt;br /&gt;It feels good. I might be becoming a little neat freak, but even my husband notices a breezy difference in our humble Manhattan abode..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something to be said for knowing where all your stuff is.&lt;br /&gt;Now if I could just sort through all of our important documents and get our filing cabinets in order, I'd be having the perfect week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of weeks.............................&lt;br /&gt;I have 2 weeks left at work. I feel like the end can't come soon enough. I am going to miss the kids, but let me tell you, I miss having and taking care of my own life. Finally, I am going to move onto something new. It is definitely a time for change. I look forward to rediscovering the art of only being emotionally responsible for my own family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now lets just see how long it lasts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114895629062474944?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114895629062474944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114895629062474944&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114895629062474944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114895629062474944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/05/spring-fever.html' title='Spring Fever'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114824922432867908</id><published>2006-05-21T17:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:27.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BABY NEWS!</title><content type='html'>My husband and I  became parents at 3 a.m. this morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parents to 2 gorgeous, but very horny squirrels. They have turned the old, leaf-filled bucket on the balcony (fire escape) outside our bedroom window into a brothel (nest).&lt;br /&gt;We are woken up by their moans (quacks) and put to sleep by their scratching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love them.&lt;br /&gt;We have named them Duck(because of her quacking) and Kanga(because of his stance).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We think we might be sleep-deprived grandparents before we are ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114824922432867908?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114824922432867908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114824922432867908&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114824922432867908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114824922432867908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/05/baby-news.html' title='BABY NEWS!'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114773888156544856</id><published>2006-05-15T20:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:27.260-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday night at my house</title><content type='html'>My husband is working the late shift tonight which means he will only be home after midnight. I hate the evenings when he isn't here to share my drama with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pacing the hardwood floors in our apartment, trying to broil a steak and some vegetables, while I wait for the 2 hour conclusion of Greys Anatomy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My apartment is in desperate need of a spring cleaning, but I am too preoccupied with the time to care. In 45 minutes we will finally know how the characters on Greys Anatomy will end their season. Is Izzy going to kill the love of her life. Is Derek going to leave his wife for Meredith? If he does, will Meredith give him the finger? How did Chris O'Donnell age so well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to check on my dinner and wait.&lt;br /&gt;and wait....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and wait..............&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and wait!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114773888156544856?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114773888156544856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114773888156544856&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114773888156544856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114773888156544856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/05/monday-night-at-my-house.html' title='Monday night at my house'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114589325611119046</id><published>2006-04-24T11:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T16:00:34.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaky pre-school parents</title><content type='html'>Today at around noon, I visited a friend who works at the JCC in Manhattan. The JCC pre-school had just let out and my ears were in overdrive. This is what I overheard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While  kids and their grown-ups mingled in the hallways, a freaky parent exposed her freaky colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation I overheard went like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh cool, I see your little C---- got a fashionably punky haircut. It's cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 2:&lt;/strong&gt; You think so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Absolutely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 2:&lt;/strong&gt;Thank god you think so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 1 :&lt;/strong&gt;Where did you have it cut?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 2:&lt;/strong&gt; I cut it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 1:&lt;/strong&gt; No way, you did that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, I was hammered! Too much vodka ha, ha (nervous laugh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 1:&lt;/strong&gt; (wide eyes, fake smile, no sound coming out)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 2:&lt;/strong&gt;She was complaining about her hair, so I cut it, I was drunk and annoyed. But I woke up in the middle of the night afterward and when I realized what I did, I felt so bad. I mean look at it, god it is awful, all zig zaggy and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 1:&lt;/strong&gt; (obviously happy parent 2 is remorseful and apparently that's the go -ahead for condolence) no, dont think that way, it looks kind of cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parent 2:&lt;/strong&gt; meet me downstairs in 5 minutes and I will tell you the whole story. I feel terrible about it, I dont know why I feel so bad. What should I do, wait dont tell me now, we can talk about it later! Do you think the other mothers overheard, I would hate them to think bad about me, but why would they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(ME):&lt;/strong&gt; Well maybe most people think badly about people who get drunk and cut their 3 year old daughters hair !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirty looks were shot my way, so I ducked for cover and raced down the stairs to Starbucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114589325611119046?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114589325611119046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114589325611119046&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114589325611119046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114589325611119046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/04/freaky-pre-school-parents.html' title='Freaky pre-school parents'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114480965506029832</id><published>2006-04-11T21:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:26.891-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Alias Celeb sighting</title><content type='html'>Saw Melissa Suzanne George aka Lauren Reed of &lt;em&gt;Alias&lt;/em&gt; fame tonight. She also plays a character named Deanna Schine in the Jennifer Aniston/Clive Owen movie &lt;em&gt;Derailed&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/32/Melissa_George_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/32/Melissa_George_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was buying a ton of sofa pillows that were marked 50% off. At least she shops for a deal, but let me tell you, her taste is atrocious.&lt;br /&gt;The pillows were all old-fashioned cottage style, with tassels. HUGE TASSELS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and had the most fabulous bag, I must admit it was the bag that drew my attention, I saw the bag and was dreaming about it being mine, when she turned around and I saw her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;These are the things I noticed about her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- She is always sporting a serious Jolie pout on television, but in reality, she has really thin lips.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-She has a SERIOUS overbite. I mean serious! Now I know why her  lips look pouty on t.v.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Because I was standing behind her I could see her hair extentions quite clearly, they did not look good, were growing out and looked so fake ----eeuugh&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Once again, another celebrity who is seriously skinny. It took all my willpower not to offer to take her out for a sandwich. I might have to start carrying a candy bar around with me, just incase I bump another celeb. My god, with all that money, you would think they would buy themselves some pasta or something!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- The good thing about her was that the clerks kept making mistakes, they forgot a few pillows, rang up more than she bought ect. They were annoying me, but she was lovely to them the through the entire ordeal, telling them to take their time, smiling, she was so sweet, I felt like feeding her, then hugging her!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114480965506029832?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melissa_George' title='Alias Celeb sighting'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114480965506029832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114480965506029832&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114480965506029832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114480965506029832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/04/alias-celeb-sighting.html' title='Alias Celeb sighting'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114446089168665120</id><published>2006-04-07T21:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T16:02:24.375-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I acknowledged about myself today</title><content type='html'>1. My mom is my best friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I Love chocolate WAY too much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I think my marriage is perfect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I need to eat healthier food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I should find a way to move more (walk or yoga)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I am a neat freak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I love to cook&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I should get a job instead of always volunteering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I love the movie C&lt;em&gt;lueless&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I am in total denial that &lt;em&gt;Charmed&lt;/em&gt; is almost over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I love my in-laws&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt; I was born to be a nurse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I have a Midwestern-housewife fantasy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I have truly great friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I have a freak flag and don't wave it nearly as my much as I should&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I wish Katie Holmes wasn't having Tom Cruises baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. I want to live by the water (I dont mean like now! We live a block from the Hudson River)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I should try more "new" things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I miss Africa and should try to get home more often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. My husband loves me for the best and the worst that I am....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All in all, I am one lucky woman!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114446089168665120?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114446089168665120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114446089168665120&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114446089168665120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114446089168665120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/04/things-i-acknowledged-about-myself.html' title='Things I acknowledged about myself today'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114421064554831204</id><published>2006-04-05T00:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:26.758-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SWANSON VS HOMEMADE</title><content type='html'>My husband came home the other day and informed me that when his co-workers asked him what he would choose to be the last meal before he dies, he answered that he would choose Swanson’s prepared corn.&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea what he was talking about.&lt;br /&gt;Swanson’s?&lt;br /&gt;Shawn went on to tell me the corn was part of a Swanson’s prepared meal. Swanson’s fried chicken dinner to be precise.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it is 2 pieces of fried chicken, a side of mash potatoes, a bit of corn and a brownie.&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea what he was talking about.&lt;br /&gt;To me any tv dinner is gross.&lt;br /&gt;I associate all t.v dinners with Lean Cuisine and Jenny Craig etc.&lt;br /&gt;When I think of t.v dinners the following comes to mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Convenience&lt;br /&gt;-Fried, Greasy,mystery meats.&lt;br /&gt;-One meal where all the food tastes the same&lt;br /&gt;-5 mins in the microwave for soggy food,7 minutes for overcooked, dry food&lt;br /&gt;-I imagine all t.v dinners to be fatty, flavorless sodium nightmares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, upon hearing about the content of his last meal wish, I was floored! Speechless. And that doesn't happen often to me (note to self: Maybe that's why he said it).&lt;br /&gt;His mother’s pork chops? Delicious, but no, he will take the Swanson’s meal. My fabulous steak and homemade fries or Parisian chicken and lemon tweaked salad?&lt;br /&gt;Apparently they didn’t make the cut.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say the knowledge of my husband's final meal haunted me, so I spent a week looking for it in the grocery stores of our neighborhood, Target's frozen foods and I finally found it at the deli around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;After buying the meal, I came up with the most amazing and fun experiment.&lt;br /&gt;He would make a Swanson’s dinner and I would make the exact same food from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we did just that.&lt;br /&gt;At first I was not impressed with the frozen dinner. It looked flat, colorless and yucky, like something you'd give someone if they wanted to die, not something they'd want for a final meal. Then my husband popped it into the oven and half an hour later, the chicken looked edible and the mash potatoes were no longer white, they had risen and melted butter was oozing out of the top of it. The corn looked plump, bright and smelled really, really good. The brownie had risen and was bubbling and emitting the most amazing aromas.&lt;br /&gt;I felt defeated.&lt;br /&gt;Then I took out my own crispy fried chicken, buttery sweet corn kernels, white fluffy mash potatoes laden with salt and butter and we set them on the table.&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice sample dinner, but a dinner that had a purpose.&lt;br /&gt;I would discover once and for all if this meal he wanted on his deathbed was worthy and after going years without it, if he still loved it as much.&lt;br /&gt;I made my husband close his eyes and I fed him a spoonful of each dish.&lt;br /&gt;The object was that upon tasting a spoonful of my corn and a spoonful of Swanson’s corn, in no particular order, he would have to:&lt;br /&gt;1: Try to guess which was mine and which was Swanson’s.&lt;br /&gt;2. Tell me which one he liked better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now granted this was a lot of pressure, but we were both having fun, I tried the Swanson’s, he tried my dinner and we picked at each other’s meal the entire time.&lt;br /&gt;Here are our responses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;APPEARANCE:&lt;br /&gt;Louise-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked the way the Swanson’s meal looked after being cooked. I was quite impressed, but I liked the way my chicken looked crispier and more evenly browned. Their corn looked ok, but was sitting in a little bit of water. My corn was buttery and bright, with no excess liquid. I am ashamed to say that Swanson’s mashed potatoes looked much more appealing than mine. My potatoes were not attractive at all, uuurrggghhh they were white and slimy looking.&lt;br /&gt;My brownie looked awful and small by comparison!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shawn-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an interrogation he admitted my meal looked better, chicken crispier, corn fresher etc, but he said his brownie won out big time! Alas my friends, he is right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TASTE:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Louise-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I found my chicken tasted much, much better, oh my god, Swanson’s chicken was nasty. My corn won hands down! My mash was awful, theirs wins there. My brownie tasted better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shawn&lt;/strong&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;He said he likes the taste of Swanson’s chicken, although it referred only to the skin, he said that once you took a bit the meat looked gross. Shawn said mine tasted better. Their potatoes were better, their brownie was better and our corn…oh my god was tied!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after I gave him a look of defeat, he said all my food was better, and that I won!&lt;br /&gt;He also went on to say he loved my food.&lt;br /&gt;Aha! He can be bought with a pout and a smile!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am typing this with a headache, I think it was the food. Or maybe just the sight of that chicken.&lt;br /&gt;Oh god, if I had to eat another Swanson’s meal, I think I could become a vegetarian.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114421064554831204?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.swansonmeals.com/webportals/' title='SWANSON VS HOMEMADE'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114421064554831204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114421064554831204&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114421064554831204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114421064554831204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/04/swanson-vs-homemade.html' title='SWANSON VS HOMEMADE'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114330513606669178</id><published>2006-03-25T11:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:26.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Catherine Zeta Jones Sighting</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;WHO: &lt;/strong&gt;Miss Catherine Zeta Jones, in the flesh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHERE:&lt;/strong&gt; A knitting store located on Manhattans Upper West Side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHEN:&lt;/strong&gt; A Sunday 2 weeks ago around 1pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHAT&lt;/strong&gt;: She was wearing jeans, a black pumpkin hat and a fabulous coat. I think it was lamb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHY&lt;/strong&gt;: She was looking for wool and patterns, yes this girl knits, another reason to love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SUMMARY:&lt;/strong&gt; I was doing my usual Sunday stuff. I had met my friend for breakfast at 9am at French Roast, we gabbed and drank coffee till 11am and then wondered over to our favorite knitting store where we shop, knit and hang out in the back room with a few other regulars and the owner. I spend my time chatting with the girls, knitting, sharing techniques, ironing my projects and flipping from the back to the front of the store. While on one of my excursions to the front of the store to get some help winding up my ball of yarn I hear the most fabulous accent. Usually I am the only one with an accent, so my ears perk up. My friend Kiera comes running over to tell me Catherine is in the store looking at a crochet blanket. I tried to contain my excitement and held back on taking a photo and sending it to my husbands work ( a gossip mag) and I swaggered coyly over to the other side of the store to get a good look at her. I had to sum her up, I mean she is usually like a goddess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see Celebs allot, but never her!&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I saw and learned about Catherine Zeta-Jones my friends:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; She is short, shorter than she appears on film. I think somewhere in the 5 ft3, 5 ft4 range, because she did not appear taller than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; She is sooo skinny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; Her hair is thin and not as full looking as on film&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; She looks nothing like she does in the movies, in fact the other girls were outraged at the condition of her skin.&lt;br /&gt;Yes I saw a few browning spots, but I didn't think she looked too bad. Some of the others thought she was quite average looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.&lt;/strong&gt; Her teeth look fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.&lt;/strong&gt; She has the most beautiful lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7.&lt;/strong&gt; Her voice is exactly as you think it will be. PERFECT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.&lt;/strong&gt; She is nice and friendly. She gabbed away and was super sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9&lt;/strong&gt;. She bought grey wool with a shine in it to knit a wide, loose stitched scarf for herself. She asked if casting on 50 stiches would be enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10&lt;/strong&gt; Some of thegirls gossipped about the fact that she looked so old and that she was sooo lying about her age. They swear she is in her 40's and that if you look back on her early films you can tell she has been around a while. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11. &lt;/strong&gt;She knits people, she knits and I love her! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;P.S.&lt;/strong&gt; My friends and the strangers in the store were so excited at how normal she was, I felt sorry for her, they actually loved that she was not pretty, was short and had bad skin. As a public, woman can be so mean, just to bring the stars down to their level, I am sorry to say it did give me some gratification too, knowing she was plain looking.&lt;br /&gt;But she was fantastically nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114330513606669178?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114330513606669178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114330513606669178&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114330513606669178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114330513606669178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/03/catherine-zeta-jones-sighting.html' title='Catherine Zeta Jones Sighting'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114326901496782063</id><published>2006-03-25T01:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:26.391-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom Ache</title><content type='html'>I had a wisdom tooth removed yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;OUCH!&lt;br /&gt;But I get to eat ice-cream..as much as I want.&lt;br /&gt;And I do!&lt;br /&gt;Loving my time off from work. Getting some much needed rest, doing some much needed cleaning and enjoying the painkillers while they last!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114326901496782063?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114326901496782063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114326901496782063&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114326901496782063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114326901496782063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/03/wisdom-ache.html' title='Wisdom Ache'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114304751891140582</id><published>2006-03-22T11:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:26.001-04:00</updated><title type='text'>White Plains # 1 - Off to a bad start</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning my husband Shawn and I had to go to White Plains NY. Shawn had been asked to do a television interview about his book there and we decided that if we were going to go all the way to another part of NY state, we would make a day of it and do some exploring.&lt;br /&gt;I spent a day searching the net to find some spots of interest, a coffee shop, a saloon pub for lunch and an ice-cream parlor for some yummy &lt;em&gt;Coldstone&lt;/em&gt; ice-cream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so White Plains is only about half an hour away from Manhattan, but you have to take two long distance trains to get there, so in our book, two trains that are not the subway equals a day trip. I was actually quite excited - I am ridiculously similar to a dog in heat that way - I get excited over almost anything. I plan the entire day, with pit stops, points of interest, restaurants, coffee shops, maps of the town and notes on everything imaginable. I plan ahead for everything. I make sure to have a coin purse with quarters, enough cash and my charged cell phone. That way I can be excited instead of worried about the possibility of getting lost with no hope of rescue. It might be the nanny in me.&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited I couldn't wait for our day in White Plains.&lt;br /&gt;But what started out as an exciting adventure, ended with us lost in the Bronx at nightfall.&lt;br /&gt;Let me start at the beginning, the night before our trek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn arrived home from work at a little before midnight on Monday night. His hair was hanging way over his eyes and I was going to give him a midnight haircut so he would look fabulous for the television interview the next day. I did some cutting and a little shaving and Shawn did some sitting and a lot of whining, ouching and moaning. My shears were blunt and the poor tired boy had to sit through a haircut that pulled and tugged at his hair. When all was said and done, he looked quite dashing if I must say so myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was about 1:30 a.m. after we had finished cleaning up the stray hairs from our dining room floor when he jumped into the shower. He was exhausted after a long day's work and I on the other hand was buzzed and ready to play. Being on vacation does that to me. I start sleeping 3 hours a night and celebrating every waking hour by doing things around the house that I never manage to do because I am never home. I take pleasure in mopping our hardwood floor and scrubbing our tub. I order take out food at 11pm and eat ice-cream way into the morning hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After his shower Shawn tried to whoo me into bed at about 2am, because we would have to be up at 7 in the morning, but I was having none of it. I was awake, on vacation and in little want or need of sleep. I eventually talked him into going to bed first with the promise that I would be in bed soon.&lt;br /&gt;What does "soon" mean exactly? I was ready to pull off an all-nighter and not get any sleep at all....I thought that if I could just last 4 more hours I would be up for the day and we could go straight to White Plains and start having the fun I had planned for us out there. Me need sleep? No way, not on vacation!&lt;br /&gt;So at 2:30 a.m. I started to sweep our apartment, polish some wood, dust the computer, etc. All was going well, until at 3:45 am when I accidentally dropped the broom and with a loud thud I knew it was over. Shawn came whirling into the living room, eyes a-blazing and a look of horror on his face.&lt;br /&gt;"What is going on here?" he demanded through groggy eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing" I stammered, "I am coming to bed now, I just dozed off on the sofa."&lt;br /&gt;Great, now I am lying to my husband about getting some sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn dragged me into bed and demanded that I get some sleep and stop my antics. He informed me that I had gotten 3 hours sleep in the past 24 hours while celebrating my time off from work and that I needed to get some sleep before our trip because my lack of sleep was making me, in his words, loopy. 3 hours sleep in the past 24?, what? No way, it was more like 4 hours because I took a little nap in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I lay there in bed, trying to sleep, but the guilt of my lie about dozing off on the sofa was eating away at me. This is probably a good time to inform you that my husband and I have a strict no lying policy. No matter how small the fib or lie, you have to come clean in 2 minutes. If you are unable to come clean in the 2 minutes you have to come up with a jolly good reason.&lt;br /&gt;Our rule works well and has resulted in not only an honest relationship, but an extremely ridiculous love affair laden with fibs and confessions. The best part is that when telling the truth the other has to accept it and either move on or help deal with its ludicrousness.&lt;br /&gt;We came up with it together because we really wanted an honest partnership and wanted to be sure that we would always communicate our woes. When I ask how he is feeling he has to tell me. When he asks where I have been I have to tell him, even though, as he says, most of the times the answer to that question is the bathroom, bedroom or kitchen. Alas, no more bar hopping and clubbing for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the gist of it right? No lies.&lt;br /&gt;Now we do have some ways of getting out of immediate confrontation. We have a 2-minute-rule policy, where you can fib, but within two minutes you have to tell the other person the truth and the best part is, is that the other person can't get mad at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have a "duped" clause where because we can't lie in our marriage we can dupe each other and create crazy lies that are proven wrong straight away. Now this might seem silly to most couples, but to us, it creates chaos, joy and tons of laughter. Like when I let out a yelp and a scream in the kitchen and ran into the bedroom and threw my scared self into his arms and informed him that we had caught a big rat with a long tail in our mouse trap instead of a mouse. I held out for a few minutes. He was mortified - he fears nothing like he fears rats - and I won! The best dupes are laden with theatrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trick is to be able to convince the other that your lie is the truth, you have to choose a sorta real situation and then be able to pull the wool over the other's yes. If you do, you become the champ for hours. If you don't and the other can't be duped then they win and, well, lets just say, its no fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so I am laying in bed thinking, there is like 30 seconds to go before my 2-minute-rule clause runs out. So I spew out the truth:&lt;br /&gt;"Honey? you awake? I lied, I didn't fall asleep on the sofa, I was sweeping the floor and didn't want you to think I was crazy for doing it at 3:30am."&lt;br /&gt;SILENCE........&lt;br /&gt;"Honey?" I say.&lt;br /&gt;My god he was already sleeping, so I bump him awake.&lt;br /&gt;"I lied" I whined.&lt;br /&gt;"I know honey, you are not fooling anyone with these night antics," he says. "Now get some sleep."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I lay there, waiting for the sand man, I look at the clock it is 4 a.m., oh my god, I am awake, I have to pretend to get some sleep, if I can just close my eyes and do some daydreaming about tomorrow's activities, maybe time will pass.&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes and almost immediately the alarm goes off. I look up at the clock and see that it is 7am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7am!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;So I crawled out of bed like the living dead, but then reminded myself that I was on vacation to lift my spirits and I pranced into the bathroom to run myself a nice warm shower.&lt;br /&gt;The water was freezing cold.&lt;br /&gt;I checked the other taps and discovered that all the water was freezing cold.&lt;br /&gt;We had no hot water! This has happened three or four other times to us in this apartment, one of them being on the day of our wedding! Fortunately it happened after I had showered and Shawn was able to shower at his parents' hotel. On this day, though, nothing could bail us out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran into the bedroom to tell my husband and he jumps out of bed, his hair was standing up all over the place and as I watched him stumbling over to the bathroom, I realized that we were going to have to go to the television studio without taking a shower and on 3 hours sleep. I convinced him to just stick his hair under the cold shower and he did so while emitting a scream that resembles a dying animal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I added a little gel to his hair, we slathered on as much underarm deodorant as we could, we got dressed and began to venture over to the metro train station which is across the Broadway Bridge in the Bronx. (about a 5 minute walk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pop into our diner downstairs for a coffee before crossing the bridge and we realize we have left the directions to the studio at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This day did not start out well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn runs back for the directions and I start making my way over the bridge, we meet up just as I get to the station. What can I say, he is 6ft 4 and has super long legs, me, I am slower than most turtles, at 5ft 3, well, lets just say I am a few inches away from being a "little person".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the ticket machine we encountered another problem, there were no tickets to White Plains, only to Harlem, where we would have to transfer and hop onto another train heading to White Plains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 round-trip tickets to Harlem cost $25 bucks, weird when it usually only costs us $2 on a subway. It seemed we would have to buy twice as many tickets for the same distance instead of one set of tickets to one place. So instead of paying the usual $25 we would have had to pay $50. Shawn refuses to buy more than 2 roundtrip tickets to Harlem. He was convinced we would only have to buy the round-trip tickets to Harlem and it would include a transfer to White Plains. I objected and insisted that if it doesn't say White Plains on the ticket we wont be able to use it. The train arrives and interrupts our debate, so we hop aboard with 2 return tickets to Harlem and hope it will get us to White Plains. We arrived in Harlem less than 10 minutes later. There after climbing down and up 3 or 4 flights of stairs, we transferred to a White Plains train and Shawn slowly began to realize that we might need another ticket, unless....................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my husband sits silently next to me, staring out the window as if he doesn't know what's going on, I use my accent and South African charms to talk to the conductor and convince him I am foreign, lost and confused. This is not a lie at all, but truer than I want to believe. This works more often than you think it would, and more often than it probably should.&lt;br /&gt;I spew my story and he lets us ride to White Plains for free but tells us that we do have to buy another ticket even though it is the system that has basically duped us into needing two tickets at twice the price for a ride to one place. Being duped by the MTA is not as much fun as being duped by my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in White Plains in one piece and walked to a nearby coffee shop, which was on our itinerary. We took a short break and I guzzled down a caffeine laden coffee, Shawn did some reading and I paged through my notes on where we were going and what we were going to be doing the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wandered around trying to use the map to find the studio and eventually after Shawn asked for directions we ended up in the right place at 5 minutes to our scheduled 10am time slot.&lt;br /&gt;Whew, just made it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interview went well, I was able to sit inside the studio and watch, it was fun, 27 minutes of my husband talking about his book, his life etc. Then he mentions me....Of course, I was beaming with pride!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the interview we wandered around the town - pretty, nice, low traffic and you never have to wait in line for anything. I saw 99c stores and tried not to go in, because there are 99c stores all over Manhattan, but then I saw some art projects for the kids I could not leave behind.&lt;br /&gt;We spotted an Applebees and had to fight the urge to go in. After all, we did not go all the way to White Plains to have lunch at an Applebees when we eat there all the time. It's ridiculous enough that we were as excited about visiting White Plains as millions of tourists are about visiting New York City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eventually stumbled into a little pub-like saloon for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;It was completely empty and we loved not having to wait for a table. The food was ok, not the best, but the quiet atmosphere and clean bathrooms made up for it.&lt;br /&gt;During lunch we discussed the latest movies we want to see sometime in the city, &lt;em&gt;thank you for smoking, V for Vendetta&lt;/em&gt; and a few others came up. Going to the movies in Manhattan is such a chore, not only is everything so expensive, but it is so crowded that you always have someone behind you, in front of you and next to you. Someone is usually eating Chinese food they snuck in or farting egg-smelling gas in your direction knowing that you have no escape from the smell. If you don't make it to the theatre half an hour early you also end up sitting front and centre and usually sit like you are laying down in order to watch the movie. Then on your way home you see things in double vision because you were so close to the screen. For that reason we either wait for most things to come onto Netflix, or we see the movie well into its run and pray that we miss the crowds.&lt;br /&gt;That was when Shawn had a brilliant idea. Why not go see&lt;em&gt; V-for Vendetta&lt;/em&gt; at the movie theatre in White Plains. We know it was one of the best selling movie seats in town this past weekend and that means every seat in Manhattan theatres will be filled. ahah! It was an ingenious idea.&lt;br /&gt;We ran over to the movie theatre, paid $7 for a ticket as opposed to NYC's $11 and found our way into a gigantic theatre, with huge leather seats and 3 other people in it.&lt;br /&gt;I was so happy I almost peed myself with joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took our seats, they even reclined and we sat and watched the movie in peace and quite with nobody around.&lt;br /&gt;It was the best movie date I have ever been on. I would go all the way to White Plains again, just to see a movie in that theatre.&lt;br /&gt;That movie experience made our trip to White Plains worth while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left smiling and joyful, and after a stop for some ice cream, we were ready for our quick train ride home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smiles did not last long.........................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;coming soon: White Plain #2 - Lost in the Bronx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114304751891140582?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114304751891140582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114304751891140582&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114304751891140582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114304751891140582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/03/white-plains-1-off-to-bad-start.html' title='White Plains # 1 - Off to a bad start'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114148594486297894</id><published>2006-03-04T10:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:25.568-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of an era</title><content type='html'>I am about to inform you of my guilty pleasures.&lt;br /&gt;I am almost a little embarrassed to say....&lt;br /&gt;I love Sunday night T.V.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hardly watch the telly, but Sunday night, from 8pm-11pm, I am glued to the t.v while folding laundry and eating chicken wings with blue cheese dressing that my husband Shawn orders from Dominos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sunday nights go something like this.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8pm&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Charmed&lt;/em&gt; on the WB - I know, I know - I cant explain it, but I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9pm&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Desperate Housewives&lt;/em&gt; on ABC - I like it, but I wouldn't complain if it got cancelled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10pm&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Greys Anatomy&lt;/em&gt; on ABC - My new addiction! I look forward to it all weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now just know this, I plan my entire weekend around keeping this time slot ( 8pm-11pm) free. I make no plans and when I do, it is accidental and I end up whining to my husband the entire time. In event of this, he makes sure we are home before 8pm and the wings are ordered for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband usually has to scamper to the other side of the apartment, but once in a while, after checking to see that the coast is clear (during commercials), he will make an appearance to say hi. We have learned that we cannot speak to each other too near the end of any of those three mentioned hours...Heaven forbid I miss the conclusion of any of my shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sunday routine has been this way for almost 2 years and now, my friends, I fear it is coming to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just received the bad news that one of my television addictions is being cancelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Charmed&lt;/em&gt;, the witchy television series is coming to an end. No more Paige, no more Piper, no more Phoebe, no more...Leo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why oh why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, apparently the WB and UPN are joining forces to become one channel and &lt;em&gt;Charmed&lt;/em&gt; was a casualty of their marriage. Does this new network have so much great new programming planned that they can yank this out from under me?&lt;br /&gt;Like most marriages, something had to be sacrificed. In my marriage it was my husband's sanity. How he puts up with me, I don't know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sunday night rituals are in for a big change. And now, all I can do is prepare myself for the end of the season. the change of an era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will remain an avid fan until the end! The only good news, I guess, is that, sort of like Law and Order, Charmed reruns can usually be found three hours every day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end comes too soon for us all!&lt;br /&gt;Brace yourself people, brace yourself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114148594486297894?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://tv.yahoo.com/news/ap/20060303/114143184000.html' title='The end of an era'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114148594486297894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114148594486297894&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114148594486297894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114148594486297894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/03/end-of-era.html' title='The end of an era'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114107415223308502</id><published>2006-02-27T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T18:28:25.505-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Other children's mothers.... Pushing my buttons!</title><content type='html'>When is it ok to reprimand other people's children? &lt;br /&gt;Not your charges, not your kids, but other people's children?&lt;br /&gt;Is it ever ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself doing it today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up my charge from pre-school this afternoon.....She was a bundle of joy as usual. Monday afternoons are always exciting for the two of us, because we haven't seen each other all weekend. I look through the crowd of mothers and nannies all waiting to gather up their children and charges and I see her little head seeking me out in the crowd. The moment our eyes meet we always end up emitting squeals and chuckles.&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing, the heart's capacity to love. The actuality that you are capable of loving children who are not your own.... To love another little human being is one of the greatest loves I have ever known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we gathered up her belongings and headed to the stairs that lead down to the exit.&lt;br /&gt;While carefully navigating down the stairs I see my charge bounce forward.&lt;br /&gt;This was unusual, because she is always so careful on the stairs, she holds the rail, takes one step at a time and makes sure to watch where she is going. I hold her hand for extra security or I walk one step ahead of her, so that I will be there to catch her in the event of a fall. The crowd of grown-ups and children was growing and people were getting very close to us and again I saw her almost fall down a step. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I step in front of her for the added safety and I look back and see this little&lt;br /&gt;3-year-old-boy hopping down the stairs behind her and pushing her forward. His mother was out of my eye range, probably chatting away with her friends, while her&lt;br /&gt;3-year-old tried desperatly to find his way down two flights of stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can always tell the mothers from the nannies, some of the mothers are always huddled together or walking in groups of 3 while their kids roam around trying to make their way. The good nannies, not all, but most, are holding onto the children, asking them about their day, talking to them about lunch options and the possibility of their mom being home when they get there. Okay okay, I know that mothers are attentive too, but not the one I am about to expose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This 3-year-old boy was wandering down the stairs alone. Maybe 3 people in front of his mother.&lt;br /&gt;pushing&lt;br /&gt;hopping&lt;br /&gt;pushing&lt;br /&gt;I look up and see who seems to be, and later proves to be, his mother talking to another person. I tried to make eye-contact with her and to get her attention by raising my voice and saying "excuse me!" But she doesn't hear me and keeps talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hold firmly to my charge's little hand and when she is pushed forward and loses her balance on a stair, I catch her and while steadying her I felt forced to look him in the eyes, trying to be firm but at the same moment kind and I say, "Don't push her! It is not ok to push her on the stairs!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother finally stops dawdling and chatting and all of a sudden takes notice. She swoops her son up, asking him in a sweet voice, while caressing his hair and looking at me sideways..."Did you push her?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"I didn't see..." she mumbles as if the fact that she didn't see makes it ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was that for him to hear, for me to hear or was that her conscience talking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are you talking to? Me or him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course you didn't see him, you were chatting to your friends. At this point I am looking at her.&lt;br /&gt;She looks at me, did he push her she asks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No" says the sarcastic voice in my head. "I just reprimanded him because I felt like it." But instead I say "Yes, he pushed her twice and you were not dealing with it, so I had to." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am sorry, I didn't see" she mumbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's ok," I find myself saying, "I had to deal with it, I don't want her falling down the stairs because your child didn't know he wasn't supposed to push other children in front of him."&lt;br /&gt;At this point the other nannies are giving me the eye. One nanny winks at me and mouths, "You tell her!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She scoops him up and asks him, "Did you push her?" The child says nothing. "Mommy didn't see, did you push her?" she repeats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mothers and and caregivers who take no notice of their children and then when something negative happens, they pretend nothing has happened, really get to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children have been at school all morning. The parents usually show up in gym wear or an outfit so fancy the fur practically growls at you when you walk by. A fur that almost shouts out, "No dirty hands!" They spend their mornings doing their own thing and then when it is time to see their kids, they use that time to chat to all the other mothers. Heaven forbid a nanny takes her eyes of her charge for a minute - It sure gets all the mothers talking!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All adults taking care of children need to pay attention. Especially on the stairs where they can get hurt and if not told, they could cause an accident for someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My charge and I move on...One step at a time until we exit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My charge looks up at me and tells me she was just walking, looking where she was going, he was pushing her. She almost fell, she states with worry in her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;I know I say, but its ok, I am here, I am your grown up and I wont let anything happen to you.&lt;br /&gt;"I almost fell Louise," she repeats, "and you told him not to push me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiled at me and I could see she felt safe and taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;At that moment all the doubt I was feeling about reprimanding someone else's child while taking care of her vanished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is after all my job to make sure she is safe.&lt;br /&gt;It is my job to let her know that I have her back! I have her. She is safe and  nobody can push her for any reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We make it to the outside and walk past a crying girl.&lt;br /&gt;I see the same mother reprimanding her son. Yelling at him, scolding him.&lt;br /&gt;It appears that once he got outside, he pushed another girl.&lt;br /&gt;She fell and hurt herself and was in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mother waited till that moment. A moment when he hurt someone to take action. And it was action that left him crying too.&lt;br /&gt;I find this unnecessary. Why did she not explain to him about pushing when he did it the first time? Instead of asking in a soft voice about his actions and not dealing with them earlier on the stairs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to have a hard time with this. I didn't want to interfere with other children and their behavior issues. Often it is not the child's fault, but the grown-ups. How are children supposed to know how to behave if we do not teach them? It is up to us, their adult, to make sure they understand the consequences of their actions.&lt;br /&gt;Before it becomes an accident or a disaster, we should be there to help them navigate their world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we could all save ourselves a lot of trouble if we deal with things as they happen in a clear manner instead of waiting for a larger-scale incident to take action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt bad for that little boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is confused. I am sure he was wondering why all of a sudden he was getting into trouble?&lt;br /&gt;Does it take causing someone pain and tears to get his mother to take note?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The situation went from being about safety on the stairs and the common decency of not pushing someone else, to being about making someone cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My charge spoke of the way I handled the little boy for most of the day and I kept reassuring her that I would do it again. That I would always keep her safe.&lt;br /&gt;I also took the time to explain to her why we don't push people and that if she had been the one pushing, that I would have had to have a stern talking to her as well as have insisted on her apologizing to her victim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder too if I should have just picked her up and carried her down the stairs instead of firmly talking to that little boy, but at the same time I am glad that she knows I will stand up for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, time to stand up for myself and make sure I get a good night sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114107415223308502?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114107415223308502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114107415223308502&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114107415223308502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114107415223308502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/02/other-childrens-mothers-pushing-my.html' title='Other children&apos;s mothers.... Pushing my buttons!'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19079263.post-114015119775029833</id><published>2006-02-16T22:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T16:24:43.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My friend Jen got me thinking...</title><content type='html'>...and moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got off the phone with my friend Jen.&lt;br /&gt;Jen is a lovely American girl, who nannies part-time and is in the final process of becoming a certified social worker. Jen is not only nice, she is also hilariously funny. She is such a riot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you an example.&lt;br /&gt;I answer my phone with the usual "hello?" and without even saying hi or identifying herself, she starts the conversation like this............&lt;br /&gt;"Girlfriend, its called sugar free, fat free hot fudge! I mixed it with some diet ice pops and I have been pooping all night. I am lying here in bed and my stomach is talking back to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the thing you love instantly about Jen, not only does she get right to the point, but she does it in such a way that you are laughing uncontrollably before her third sentence.&lt;br /&gt;Jen has been on a successful diet for ages now and she is looking HOT.&lt;br /&gt;We spent half an hour laughing and gasping at the chaos that is Manhattan. My conversation with Jen, got me thinking ...about exercise, dieting and the gym dilemma in Manhattan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found Manhattan to be a place where you can't walk two blocks without seeing someone in gym sweats either heading to one of the many gyms or heading home after a strenuous workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take Valentines Day for example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was due to meet my husband at 7 p.m. for a romantic dinner where we were going to exchange gifts, except, I hadn't got him one yet.&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know, I feel terrible about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how Valentines Day goes. It comes so soon after the holidays that after the exhausting season that is December and January, you are all out of gift ideas. Well I was anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I left work at 6 p.m. and raced down the block to Broadway. I ran into Circuit City and found a few DVD's and stuff my husband would love and headed out to the curb to hail a cab. After 15 minutes of standing out in the cold, my hand outstretched and a look of plea on my face, I gave up trying to wave down a taxi and just stood there. I found myself looking into oblivion, trying not to stress out about the fact that because of my lack of Valentines Day preparation, my poor husband was going to be waiting for me in a crowded restaurant. His arms probably loaded with gifts and flowers, all alone on Valentines Day and I was still stuck on Broadway trying to get a ride to the restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so I am in complete denial about the time, trying to block out the fact that I just pushed over some poor man to get to the other side of the street when I look up and see about 20 people running on treadmills.&lt;br /&gt;It's a sight I see all the time, I walk past this exact gym everyday and there is always a line of sexy-looking people working up a sweat.... All facing the street, panting like they can't see you and so involved in burning calories that they dont seem to care that you can see them.&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the many gyms found on the corners of busy Manhattan streets, with glass walls so chubby passersby can see in.&lt;br /&gt;Voyeurism at its best. Or worst!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's a blatant advertising gimmick that says ..."look, these people are working out, you could look like this if you joined this gym NOW!"&lt;br /&gt;This was visual propaganda if ever I have seen it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tucked my coat over my large breasts and sucked in my ever-expanding tummy and all of a sudden began to laugh hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;I could not get the image of the hamsters I had as a child out of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;These people were literally hamster-like.&lt;br /&gt;They might as well have been running inside a hamster-wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY WHY WHY??????&lt;br /&gt;Forget about the health part.......&lt;br /&gt;Why were they there? Why do they look so angry and why is my first reaction to take the necessary steps, spend a few thouand dollars I don't have and head on my way to doing my damndest to become one of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes feel like Manhattan's pressure is not just about being thin and healthy. We all want to be healthy in some way, whether we admit it or not. I for one could definitly stand to lose a few pounds, but the people I know and see here in NYC, all seem to want to look like they are on their way to a gym (even if they are not), just come from a gym or are all card carrying members with such busy lives that they never have time to go to their fabulous gyms.&lt;br /&gt;People seem to carry their $3000 membership cards like we did hall passes in junior high.&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that I have been sucked into this, time and time again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a definite status attached to which gym you can afford to go to, what expensive apparel you can afford to wear to these exclusive gyms and how much you paid for the outfit you are going to sweat into at the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget, you have to actually look good enough to go to the gym, because you might have to be running on a treadmill, front and center, in a window-walled gym on Broadway.&lt;br /&gt;The pressure is so much, that after you pay for your membership you might actually never go for fear of having to be in the front-lines of a popular gym in a city that never sleeps.&lt;br /&gt;There are actually gyms in Manhattan that are open 24 hours a day. Can you imagine that? Who exercises at 3 a.m.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are we not spending the extra 40 minutes it might take to workout and spending it outside by walking to work? (yes, I am talking to me!)&lt;br /&gt;Has the outside world become so bad, or are we just so lazy, that we don't make use of our surroundings anymore? Understandably, when it's cold our options are more limited, I like to think that the gym is an OK place then, but I have walked past these gyms in the summer and they are even more crowded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen, the friend I mentioned earlier, doesn't do yoga or belong to a gym. She has started walking across Central Park to get to work....even when it's cold. It can sometimes take her an hour, but she walks to work and walks home. This cool chick has lost almost 18 pounds over the past few months and she is looking fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong, I have seen people walking in Central Park, jogging and such, but why are gyms now multi-million dollar franchises?&lt;br /&gt;It seems to have become like some weird science experiment.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am going to start an experiment of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to let go of my new years resolution to join a gym.&lt;br /&gt;I make the same 2 resolutions every year.&lt;br /&gt;1. Join a gym (1 year membership)&lt;br /&gt;2. go to the Gym(for one year)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually join a gym and never go, but I end up paying for it the entire year.&lt;br /&gt;Not this year.&lt;br /&gt;No way!&lt;br /&gt;No more wanna-be hamster running for me. No more sweating it up with a hundred other people and praying I don't get athletes foot while showering in a communal bathroom and trying to avoid making eye-contact with the anorexic looking woman parading herself around the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so I have only gone to the gym like 4 times, but I am not going to go at all now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On most occasions, I would feel excited and motivated by looking in the gym windows at all the beautiful skinny manhattanites running and sweating in unison. But I didn't this time.&lt;br /&gt;I felt sorry for them. There they were, running on a treadmill at 7 p.m. on Valentines Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened to us as a people?&lt;br /&gt;Man invented the treadmill!&lt;br /&gt;When did the gym become the most popular place people go to work out?&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me, or are we all so used to having things done for us, so much so, that we can't go out into the world and take advantage of our natural surroundings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To cut a long story short, I made a few new New Years resolution on Valentines Day.&lt;br /&gt;1. To be prepared for V-Day next year ( maybe I should buy a gift now, wrap it and store it for this time next year. Not a bad idea)&lt;br /&gt;2.To take public transport instead of cabbing my lazy ass all over Manhattan. This means I will walk to and from the subway, and walk the extra few blocks to get to my destination, because public transport routes aren't always the most convenient.&lt;br /&gt;3. NOT TO JOIN A GYM.&lt;br /&gt;4. To excercise in my natural surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;5. To take the stairs to and from my appartment....oh this will be hard, the 12 flights it takes to get to my apartment on the 6th floor are exhausting...but I will do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In light of all that, I went sledding a few days ago in Central Park (when the 30 inches of snow was still actually on the ground!).&lt;br /&gt;Boy oh boy, what a workout. It is amazing what a good workout you can get traipsing up and down a hill covered in snow, carrying a sled and a 3 year old and simultaneously dragging yourself upward and onward. We spent 2 fabulous hours freezing and sweating and panting and laughing outdoors, in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a blast. It was the best workout ever. It was all outdoors and we didn't have to pay a cent to take advantage of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I walked down 12 flights of stairs (maybe in a few days I'll start walking up them too!)and walked a few blocks to work from the subway, but tomorrow, who knows, I might do something crazy, ...like walk a few more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19079263-114015119775029833?l=nannychronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/114015119775029833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19079263&amp;postID=114015119775029833&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114015119775029833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19079263/posts/default/114015119775029833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nannychronicles.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-friend-jen-got-me-thinking.html' title='My friend Jen got me thinking...'/><author><name>Nanny</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
