July 10, 2015

After the whirlwind of family visits were over my wife and hired a nanny to help with the Boys.  Her name is Rina and she’s simply fantastic.  She’s attentive to Charles and Arthur at all times and they love her to pieces.  She’s with us for 6 hours a day Monday through Friday and at no point during that time do the Boys have their trademark crying jags or massive meltdowns.  My wife has noticed this and it has led to something I never expected.  My wife is becoming our Nanny.

Now, I’m not saying that any relationship can’t benefit from a little shakeup from time to time, but it’s starting to become a little unsettling.  It’s a real life Single White Female scenario taking place right in Echo Park.  Of course instead of turning into a young Bridget Fonda, my wife is surely and steadily changing into a women in her mid fifties from El Salvador.  It’s a clear indication that she’ll do whatever it takes to keep these Boys in a pleasant and calm mood.

She’s begun to dress like Rina.  She’s mimics all of Rina’s habits with the babies.  She’s begun to speak to the children in a distinct accent just like Rina’s as it seems to have a soothing affect.  She even called me “Mr. Stephen” last night.  She only has a few steps more to complete the transformation.

Here’s a picture of my wife shortly before she had the Boys.

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And here’s what I project she’ll look like in less than a month.

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I don’t have an actual photo which puts her at a disadvantage and in all honesty, Rina could do much better than me in the singles game.  Still what’s happening to my wife is jarring.  I’ll say this.  If I knew my wife was going to turn into our nanny I would have become a lot more involved in the hiring process.

I certainly wouldn’t complained if my wife morphed into a Nanny who looked like this.

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Or this.

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There must have been plenty of younger girls looking to begin a career in child care.  There might have even been a little extra in the weekly check for someone who was helping change my wife into a 22 year old recent college grad.

It’s just another example of the sacrifices I make every day for these kids. It’s time to immerse myself in the Central American culture of El Salvador so I can relate to my wife.  The Fiestas Agostinas is coming up in August and I have no idea what gift to get her.

Least Favorite Child Results

July 8 – Least Favorite was Arthur.  These babies could be at their worst all day long.  They could spit up on me, take a huge dump on my pants and scream endlessly and still get a passing grade if they let me sleep until a decent hour in the morning.  That’s what did Arthur in.  He was fine all day and all night but at 5:30 am he woke up screaming.  After feeding and burping him for 30 minutes I put him back down at 6am, and salivated at the thought of sleeping from 6 to 6:30.  Arthur clearly saw the drool on my face and decided he didn’t want to go back to sleep. He wanted to fuss and cry for another 20 minutes or so.  He snatched that half hour away from me, making him a thief.  A horrible thief.

July 9 – Kind of a tossup.  I’ll give Charles the nod, as Arthur let out a half smile which is the first sign of personality that isn’t either catatonic or insufferable.  Time to turn on some charm, Charles.

Total Days as Least Favorite Child

Arthur – 18 Days

Charles – 12 Days

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