Girl Toy

Today, I did probably one of the most generous things a young (OK, give it to me) working mother can do: I shared my nanny.

No, really. It's big. When you live in a nanny town, and you have a very good nanny like ours, you guard her like a vintage car. If she's stolen, she's irreplaceable. I think if we could figure out how to put a LoJack on her, and it didn't border on being a possible felony, we would do it in a heartbeat.

But because I know what it's like to be a mom in a childcare jam, and because I'm also a non-confrontational sucker, I said "Sure, bring your daughter over for the day!"

This may just be for today, but I fear the chance that it will go on and on like when Hitler took the Sudetenland and the next thing we knew the Yankees were handing out American chewing gum to French kids in Normandy. But for now, it's just one day.

And Ian and Julian, well, they love her. When she showed up this morning, little pony-tailed Emma, toddling all 19 months of herself around our apartment, you would have thought we just brought home a cocker spaniel with a bow on her neck.

"Mama! I think she wants something to drink?!" Ian yelped. Emma was standing in front of the fridge. I fetched some milk.

Ian and Julian took her by the elbow like a little old lady and squired her to the table so she could sit down to drink the milk. But Emma apparently doesn't sit in regular chairs yet. As soon as Julian hoisted her diapered bottom up to the seat she took a flying leap off the other side. Ian was on the scene immediately.

"Mama! [Ed. note: Ian switches from Mom to Mama when he's feeling especially docile and obedient. I don't hear it very often.] Emma fell off the chair!"

As a mom of two boys, it's hard to impress me with an injury, even if it happens to somebody else's kid. "Is she OK?" I call from the kitchen. I look over the breakfast bar into the living room and watch Ian inspecting every inch of her, lifting up everything from her left heel to her right ponytail for a look.

"Yeah. I think so, yeah, Mama, she's OK." I saw the fall and knew she was, but I figured I would let the boys play Ponch and Jon at the side of the Glendale Freeway for a few moments to exercise their damsel in distress muscles. They did a fine job.

The nanny rolled in at just that moment with a double stroller to take Julian and Emma to the Hoboken waterfront, to sit by the Hudson River and watch the sun come up over Manhattan, the cruise ships churn out to the Atlantic and daysailers playing hooky from work flit by. I took a swig of joe and thought about how fortunate that child was to be visiting the side of a deep and swiftly moving body of water with the nanny and not me.

Once Emma was strapped in next to Julian, I started to feel really sorry for her. Julian isn't one to shut up, especially when he's excited.

"Emma do you like the water do you like the boats do you want to go see manhattan emma do you do you what do you like Emma?" No, he didn't take a breath.

Emma looked up at me with her round blue eyes and her light brown ponytails sprouting from her head.

"I know, Emma, I'm really sorry about him. Try to make the best of it."

And they were off.