Where is fucking Mary Poppins when you need her?

Look, I’m old, I’m tired. I need a nanny. Cuz as you know, the parenting thing is way harder than I thought. Meaning, without help, I would be dead. Period.

I thought a nanny was going to fix everything. I was expecting sing-alongs and tea.

But what the hell? Who knew the goddamed nanny thing was going to be as much work as the kids? Where is the justice in that, I ask you?

Ever since Blondie was born, we’ve had a revolving door of Nannies, Baby.

How can it be that bad? Okay the first one was the most invasive person I have ever met. If Blondie (who at that time was really “Baldy”) ever started to drift off to sleep, she would wake her up. Like seriously. She needed the baby’s attention 24/7.

She would even call at night to see if we had fed the dog. Okay, we hadn’t yet, but not the point People, not the point.

We hired a lot of sweet (I’m talking honey- touched virgins) girls from the local Baptist College. That worked well until we swilled some booze or accidentally let a “fuck” or a “pussy” slip out. (You’d be amazed at how frequently those words do just tumble from our vodka coated lips.)

They came and they went in their ankle-length denim skirts and long straight hair. (I felt so at home when Big Love finally aired. Cuz I’d been living there Baby.)

Next through the revolving door, came the girl who stole my shoes. (Fucker!) Then there was the girl that was so involved planning her wedding that she forgot to take care of the kid. (Hey Babysitter Chick – you are supposed to be here, so I can ignore the kid.) There was the girl that we loved who never showed up again.

There was the English lady who used to call out in a shrill panic: “Girls, Girls please don’t bicker.” Ya, cuz THAT worked.

There was the older lady that had the most frightening smoker’s cough ever.

Now don’t get me wrong, we had some Sweet spots. There was Sara, who was 17 and a liar. No really, she lied. She told us she was going to go to the local Community College when she really had a full ride scholarship to Mount Holyoke. She was a beautiful young feminist who always believed I was the coolest person ever. I’m shallow in that a 17- year old can totally define my sense of self and well-being. (Hey, she’s 25 now, and still feeding my needy side!)

There was Tee, who hung in there with us for 4 years. She started out in black hoodies tied up over her face, making her a rather frightening presence at the elementary school. But hey, she poured love and salty/olive oil chicken into our gullets and spoiled the shit out of us. We love her sweet, unhoodie-covered face to this day.

But, the one that REALLY blew our minds, was Emily, who showed me the incredible wisdom of hiring someone 21 years of age who could run out and BUY US VODKA!

And now we have @PS_Nanny. I’d love to say something smartie pants about her, but I know she’s going to read this. And maybe even leave a comment if I work this just right.

Why did we hire her? One of the first things she ever said to me was: “You don’t scare me”. And given the fact that she declared this from her 6 ft tall height sorta scared ME. (In a hot, kinda way.)

I keep waiting for her to run through that revolving door onto the street. I try so hard not to throw myself to the ground and hold onto her leg when she walks out the door at night.

I tell my daughters that the Nanny isn’t here for them. The Nanny is here for me. Mama has needs. (Well, there is the whole “working” thing, but I try and keep that to a bare minimum.) Needs to eat, needs to never actually set foot on a soccer field for soccer practice, needs for special ballet tights which requires schlepping out to another zip code.

She’s the chick that doesn’t yell at them (cuz they get enough of that with me), makes sure everyone is eating healthy snacks (this may actually be a downside for me) and stands in my office with her arms folded if I don’t get in the shower in time to get to an appointment.

We are in our glory days right now. No one in our family needs a diaper. Not the kids, not me. (Though my Twitter Addiction may be driving a need to buy Depends. Nanny! Make a note.)

And the best part about @PS_Nanny is, that though she may not have an umbrella, she doesn’t mind running to the store for Vodka and Cheetos. #score #keeper