Well, Somebody’s Got To Do It


But tonight, I do not.

The thoughts that go through my head while on BART.

There was a woman who went through the train car with a baby on her hip and a cardboard sign asking for alms.

I had so many babies on my hips today that I had not a modicum of sympathy for what she was doing.  I was just grateful that today, who knows what tomorrow will bring, but that today, I don’t have a job that entails begging for spare change on the BART with my offspring.

Or scrounging through the recycling bins as they were being put out at dusk for the trash collectors that roll through the Mission on Wednesday mornings.

Although the dude sailing, and I do mean sailing, his cart down Folsom Street across from Rainbow Groceries, made me smile.

I mean, if you choose to push a cart around to collect cans for crack, at least have some fucking fun while you are doing it.

I also get grateful when I am walking through a beautiful neighborhood, Cole Valley, mid-morning pushing an elevated stroller with a bundle of cute just dropping off, the top of the pram proudly bore a Burning Man sticker on its crown and I smile to think, that yes, once again I am going a nannying at the Man.

There are plenty of folks that think what I do is complete bat shit, three?  Three babies?

Are you nuts?

Perhaps, but I pulled in half my weekly take today.

It won’t always be like this either, thank God, one of the families is going to be on vacation for the next two weeks.  Having two will feel like a vacation.

Heck, I cannot even fathom the ease of what just one is like.

I got my system down a little better today.

So I am wreck, but I am not a total wreck.

Last week I could barely move and I swear I felt the ramifications of the use of my body for the next five days.

I feel like I just physically recovered the day before yesterday and now I am sore and achy all over again.  However, the sore and achy is not quite as bad.

“How was it today?” Asked the dad as he picked up my charge this evening.

We have been practicing blowing kisses and catching them and she is getting so good.

“Maintained and then some,” I replied, “I got into my routine a bit better and I set up my stations well.”

“Nap time,” I continued, “is prep time for when they are not napping.”

“I set up a diaper station here, hydration station–there, feeding station over yon, and play station, here, here, and here,” I replied, directing his attention about the rooms of the house.

He laughed.

I was like a flight attendant directing the passengers on where the exits were and how to get to them.

And I was not lying, nap time is indeed prep time for what comes next.

I had lunch ready to go by 10:30 a.m.

Not that I was able to consume it until nearly 1 pm.

But I had all my things set up so that when I had the opportunity to do so I was able to prep and heat and get to my lunch.

Granted, I ate it all standing up, but that is what happens when you nanny, or you’re a mom, for that matter, or any parent or care taker.  I actually managed a few bites in a row instead of an isolate nibble here and an isolate nibble there.

Last week I was so overwhelmed with the crazy and juggling the babies I did not eat dinner until nearly 8pm.

Way past my dinner time.

Today I knew I was staying late, so I made sure to buy lunch and dinner fixings from the market.

That was another thing I did, I prepped my messenger bag and I got my clothes laid out and had my notebook and phone and pre-paid BART ticket ready to go.

I stream lined the operation.

Arriving, again, on the nose, five minutes early.

Enough time to wipe the sweat from my face, guzzle some water, secure my bicycle in the garage and hop up the stairs exactly at 8:45 a.m.

Two hours and fifteen minutes after I had rolled out of bed.

“I need to stop being concerned about my weight,” I thought as I huffed up the steps from the Civic Center BART station to Market Street.

I thought the same thing when I was prancing down them with my messenger bag again loaded up, but this time with a pre-emptive grocery hit at Rainbow.

My God is a merry prankster.  Want to lose weight?  Some one steals my lunch from the fridge at work.  Think you need to ride a little more bicycle, how about a longer commute?

I look like I am going to have an apple orgy in the kitchen, but I realized that between tomorrow and the next few days I won’t have a chance to do any kind of grocery shopping runs, so I pre-stocked my essential must haves.

I am working late for my North Oakland family tomorrow, I won’t get done until 9pm.

That being said, the mom told me today when she dropped off her little pie, to come in an hour later than we had previously discussed.

Sleeping in!

Well, not really.

Working from home!


I will finish up a project I started for my friend in the city on Monday and respond to some e-mails and allow myself to get in there and learn, and who knows maybe even make a mistake so that I can learn more, and try to do something new.

Nannying is a tough job and somebody has to do it, but it does not have to be me for the rest of my life.  As I looked into the three and a half month olds glorious hazel flecked eyes, and the blue raccoon ringed eye lashes of the one year old, and the precocious sky lit orbs of the 20 month old, I thought, it’s a rough job and somebody has to do it.

I get to do it.

I remind myself.

And I think that by the time the families don’t need me any more, I will have established myself in another kind of work.

How lucky am I that I get to provide a valuable service, get paid for it, and have a career to engage in while I learn the work of another.

Pretty fucking lucky.

Especially when I reflect on the smiles, kisses, hugs, and giggles I got to be a part of.

Oh, and the cat shit I cleaned up off the couch.


I know I wasn’t giving you enough attention but really?

That was my diaper changing station, I just realized in hindsight, of course the cat thought to poo there.

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