So Arden's been obsessed with cars as of late. She's memorized all the makes and models of every car we pass and is constantly asking me mechanical questions I don't have the answers to and by the time I Wiki them she's already moved onto a new topic. But a trip to the Petersen Automotive Museum is definitely in our near future.
Well today, on the way to school, Arden says to me that she no longer wants a car when she grows up, despite the fact that she had just spelled out, "Arden's BMW" with her fridge magnets. Which in itself is pretty impressive since she can't read yet. Anyway, I asked her how she plans to get anywhere and Arden replied, "I'll walk." I said, "You'll walk to school?" "Sure, it's not far." I said, "What if you wanted to go some place like the Grove (a local L.A. outdoor mall we frequent)." Arden said matter of factly, "I'll just have you drop me off."
A couple of weeks ago when Arden was on her mini summer break and my parents were out here “helping” me with the girls for a few days, my father took Arden to the new Miyazaki film Ponyo. As they were walking out of the theatre Arden ran into two of her friends from school, Abigail and Eleanor and their fathers. The girls squealed with delight upon seeing each other and ran to a corner to discuss the movie or just squeal some more. My dad told me he had a very nice conversation with the fathers and said it’s a shame I couldn’t find a guy friend like that to take Arden to the movies with some time. It was then that I had to explain to my father that Abigail and Eleanor were twins and that the two guys were married and that Jen probably wouldn’t be too happy if I had a friend like that. ("that" being a husband.)
What was simple to explain to my father wasn’t quite as simple to convey to Arden when she asked me this morning why Abigail and Eleanor have two dads and no mommy. Personally I have no problem with people being gay. I voted “No” on Prop 8 and one of my favorite events in Los Angeles is the West Hollywood Halloween parade. But trying to explain homosexuality and gay marriage to a four year old seemed a lot more difficult than our conversation about God just the week before which ended in Arden saying, “I think I need to grow up a little more for this one.” Anyway, I started to explain that sometimes two daddies love each other instead of a mommy and daddy. She seemed to get this and then said, “So how do they have babies?” I stammered for a bit until she provided a answer for me. “I think one of them must be a seahorse because boy seahorses can have babies.” I thought about correcting her but she had already moved on to asking me why some cars have hood ornaments and some cars don’t.
So I was officially nanny-free for over a year, but Tuesday I fell off the wagon. I hired a new part-time nanny so I could get some freakin’ work done. And I gotta tell you, man does it feel good to write during the day again instead of after literally 15 hours of baby talk and repeated viewings of Beauty and the Beast.
I’ve been writing almost non-stop since Alex was born, all at night, but as of late Alex has been getting up at the ass crack of dawn and by the time the girls go to bed at night, I’m pretty useless when it comes to doing anything other than falling asleep on the couch while watching So You Think You Can Dance. So I had to do something about it.
For my current project I’ve got someone coming four or five hours a day, Monday thru Friday. But when that finishes up our new nanny will switch to just two days a week so I can avoid do some much needed work around the house like sand and paint the decks.
But finding a nanny can be a daunting process. You’re essentially inviting a perfect stranger into your home to look after your most prized possession – your kid. So where did we find such a trustworthy individual? In Arden’s case: Craig’s List. That’s right, we found all of Arden’s nannies on Craig’s List, the same place where you can order up a transsexual “casual encounter” any time of the day. We obviously did extensive background checks on the girls we hired.
Now you’re probably wondering how many nannies did Arden need over the course of her first three years of life and the answer is: 4. Well technically it was three. One girl worked for us twice. Both times she moved out of town (and obviously back). As for the other two girls; one was more neurotic than me so I had to let her go and the other ended her adventure with us when Arden started school three days a week and because we ran out of nanny money.
But finding these three diamonds-in-the-rough wasn’t easy. Our ad said we needed someone from “10:00 AM – 2:00 PM, five days a week. Must have own transportation and speak English.” Seemed pretty specific, but we got people applying who didn’t speak a lick of English, didn’t have any transportation and could only work every other Sunday between 2:00 PM and 6:00 PM. We eventually found some potential candidates and had a handful come out to the house for interviews. Now one would think people would try and look half-decent for an interview, but you would be wrong. We had people show up in clothes with holes in them (not the intentional kind), others in half-shirts, and still others with tattoos on their faces. One girl was asked about her family and she broke down crying because her father died in Hurricane Katrina the week before.
This time around the process was ten times easier. I stumbled upon this site called care.com. It’s essentially Nanny Facebook where you have access to thousands of nanny profiles which lists their rates, their availability in the form of a nice little chart, free background checks, references information and even a picture. There’s also the all-important bio section where you get to learn useful facts about your potential caregiver like that they enjoy skydiving. Hopefully not with my child. I was actually overwhelmed with my choices so I posted an ad on their site to see who would come to me and within the first day I had 71 applicants that were interested in my quirky schedule. Obviously there were a bunch of duds. One girl posted a picture of herself holding a one year old with at least seven choking hazards in the background. We didn’t have that girl come in. And of the several we invited to be interviewed only two weren’t able to make it. One was stuck in court (I didn’t ask for what) and the other was too hung over from the night before. When she wanted to reschedule I told her we were taking things in a “new direction.” But we did end up finding quite a few solid matches, one of which stood out from the pack so I hired her within 24 hours of the interview. It’s only been three days, but so far she’s been great. Alex loves her. She hasn’t cried once. She actually got Alex down for a nap without me showing her my secret methods. I’ve got my fingers crossed that things will work out. But if they do go south, you’re bound to hear about it. But for now I gotta go write.
Watch the above video first and then read my reasons below...
5. “Daddy, Will You Play With Me?”
I know what you’re saying, “That's one of the worst things your daughter can say to you?” Yes, for two reasons: First, if I say “no” then I feel like a jerk. Second, if I say “yes” I won’t be playing with Arden. I’ll be playing for her. When she asks me to color with her she means she wants me to draw a picture for her and I have zero artistic ability in that area. If she wants to get out the Play Doh, I have to roll out the dough, use the contraptions and press down the cookie cutters under her cruel dictatorship. And don’t get me started on her made-up rules for board games.
4. “Daddy, Would You Get Off The Computer?”
Obviously working out of the house I have to take some calls during the day and shoot off the occasional email, but the computer can also be a great escape for me, especially now that Arden’s older and enjoys playing by herself. However, when I find myself on Facebook and Arden comes into my office and says, “Daddy, would you get off the computer?” my heart just sinks because it’s then that I realize that maybe her enjoyment is really just in my head and that I may not be paying enough attention to her. The good news is, once I hear this, I’m usually computer-free when watching the kids for a long while. Now my iPod Touch, that’s another story.
3. “Daddy, Can I Use Your Computer?”
Letting a child play with your computer when your computer itself is your place of business, is not a good idea. In the beginning it was fine, we used to watch a lot of YouTube videos together, of shows I used to watch as a kid like Barbapapa. But then she started wanting to watch the same five-minute clips over and over again which got extremely annoying. Probably as annoying as it was for Arden when I was on the computer. But as she got older and learned to play games on the computer things got ugly. She would a) hog my computer and b) lose files. I’d leave her alone for literally a minute and things would be missing from my desktop and the printer would be shooting out full color pictures of Dora the Explorer and Swiper the Fox. This is part of the reason I bought a second computer. So she could mess around with it and not destroy my hard work. Though I have to admit; Arden’s got some mad mouse skills.
2. “I Got To Go Pee.”
Without fail Arden makes this statement every time we visit a restaurant and you know how frequently we visit restaurants. It usually happens two or three minutes after our food arrives. And I hate taking Arden to the men’s room because they’re just plain disgusting. I myself try to avoid public restrooms as much as possible. But hovering a child over a men’s toilet and trying to prevent them from touching the bowl is probably my least favorite part of parenting. And to think I used to wish she would be done with diapers.
1. “I’m Done Pooping.”
Like most people, Arden has to take a dump around the same time every day, however in Arden’s case it’s always, always during dinner. And Arden has this thing about being completely naked when she takes a crap. She says she doesn’t want to get her clothes dirty. But the truly annoying part is that I’ll be enjoying a nice dinner, something I usually slaved over for a couple of hours, only to be interrupted by, “I’m done pooping.” Now, I have stop eating, get up and walk into the bathroom where I’m greeted by Arden’s smiling anus. Every night I find her bent over, with her dirty ass pointing in my direction. I’ve tried everything to get the kid to wipe herself, but to avail. Anyway, after I clean her up I have to go back to the table and finish my dinner. And for some strange reason, it never quite tastes the same.
As previously mentioned, to keep from going insane with two kids at home for two straight weeks I’ve been forced to reach into my inner depths and invent new and wonderful things for the girls to do. Okay, fine we just did regular stuff, but to my credit we did a bunch of things I hate to do like going to the park...and the beach.
I’ve already told you how much I loathe going to the park; well going to the beach for me is like the park on steroids. I actually don’t mind going to the beach, but once you add kids to the equation it’s like one of the Circles of Hell Dante forgot to write about. You’ve got to pack more gear than a cross-country plane trip, including snacks and lunches and suntan oil and changes of clothes and swim diapers. And besides the potential for sunburn, there’s the overall danger quotient. You blink your eyes for an instant and your kid is gone and your heart sinks, wondering if they’ve been swept out to sea. Of course a moment later you're hit in the head by a beach ball thrown by your kid. But the worst part of the beach is the sand. Wet, dry, it gets into every crevice on your kids' bodies and the only way to get it out is a bath, back at home, so in the meantime your car and the journey through your house to the tub is covered in grains of sand.
Fortunately for the girls, the dad in me won over my beach neurosis when I realized it was the last week of August and I live in Los Angeles and my girls haven’t seen the ocean all summer. But there was no way I would’ve gone unless my friend Sam and her kids were going too. Arden’s old enough to do her own thing at the park while I hang with Alex, but the beach is another story. I needed another set of eyes and luckily we had four sets because Sam had organized the outing with two other mothers from Arden’s preschool.
I only live 12 miles from the ocean, however Sam picked a beach about an hour and fifteen minutes up the coast. Initially I thought this was my excuse not to go, but then I realized the genius in the choice - a two-and-a-half hour round trip was two-and-a-half hours I didn’t have to entertain the kids. And the beach itself was perfect for kids – tide pools, small waves, rocks to climb on - and it being off the beaten path, it wasn’t crowded at all. I had planned to only stay an hour, but ended up staying for three.
I mostly stayed in the shade with Alex while Arden and the other kids and the moms splashed around and climbed on the rocks. But I was perfectly happy being out of the action and under an umbrella on this 100 degree day. And even though I actually had a decent time there was still my fair share of personal hells.
Trudging with all our gear and two kids through the sand was painful. But it was the trudge back that was really painful. I decided to pack up in two trips. I’d leave Arden with the other moms and carry Alex and most of my gear back to the car (I didn't want to burden the other moms with watching two extra kids.) So I took my 25 pound 10 month old to the parking lot and then back to the beach to get Arden who of course didn’t want to leave. I thought I was gonna pass out from the heat and the weight of the baby so I made some quick bribes and we were on our way to the showers near the parking lot. Arden loves outdoor showers so that was pretty easy. Alex didn’t mind them either, but when I told Arden to put on her Crocs one was missing. We looked around and realized she dropped it on the beach somewhere. So I stood Arden at the edge of the beach and had her watch me comb the sand for her shoe with “hefty” still under my arm. Fortunately I got lucky, the shoe was only a hundred yards away, but when I turned around Arden, still wet from the shower, was lying in the sand, waiting for me. So we trekked back to the showers and did the whole cleaning ritual all over again. We eventually made it back to the car, changed into some dry clothes in the middle of the parking lot and then hit the road.
In order to get Arden to leave the beach I promised her we'd hit the Malibu Starbucks which has a playground out front. But I didn't mind the stop. I had been dreaming of an iced cold soy latte ever since I passed the store on the drive up. Besides getting into a little shouting match with a New Yorker over the Boston Celtics (who I haven't followed since 1986), the stop was uneventful and the ride home was a breeze with both girls falling asleep literally seconds after I put the car into gear. When we got home we made the expected trail of sand to the bathroom. Besides our little hiccups leaving the beach, I thought the day was pretty successful...until I plopped Alex into the tub and I realized I had forgot to put suntan lotion on her back. :(
So we’re driving in the car the other day and Arden says to me, “Someone at school said when you have a baby your privates bleed.” I was momentarily stunned. Had no idea how to respond. And then a myriad of responses popped in my head, but I opted for the truth and just sighed, “It’s true.” And then Arden said, “Then I’m not having a baby.”
Ever since Jen got a new car a couple of weeks ago Arden’s been fascinated by cars. She wants to know the make and model of every car she sees. She’s memorized the symbols and will call out the car names as we drive. "Hey Daddy, there's a Mazda!" So the other day she saw a vehicle she had never noticed before - a motor home. I told her that there’s a bed inside and people sleep inside them. Now every time she sees an RV she says, “Look, Daddy. A bed car.” Well yesterday she wanted to know more about “bed cars.” She wanted to know if there were seats inside bed cars like regular cars. I explained that there were seats, a steering wheel, but there’s also a couch and a kitchen and even a bathroom. Arden gasped and said, “Oh my gosh. I’m getting a bed car when I grow up and Rahmi and I are going to live inside there forever.”
This morning Arden asked me if I could have a baby. I explained to her that only girls can have babies. And then she said, “Unless you’re a seahorse.” I was about to correct her, but stopped myself when I remembered from somewhere (certainly not biology class since I managed to never take it) that some male species do in fact give birth to their young so before I vetoed Arden's response I decided to look it up online and lo and behold male seahorses do in fact give birth to their young. I turned to Arden and said, “You’re right. How did you know that?” (I couldn’t imagine she learned that in school or even on Sesame Street.) She just said with a straight face, “I dreamed about it last night.” I dunno if I was more freaked out by the fact that Arden had dreamt this or that she tried to bait me into giving her the wrong answer so she could correct me.
