Grandma energy

After checking out the $15 a day nanny this morning, I think it’s safe to say June won’t be spending her afternoons tucked in a drawer.

When I pulled into Grandma Nanny’s driveway I was instantly put at ease. The house was a classic Virginia farmhouse — slightly worn but homey with no broken down trucks littering the yard.  I couldn’t see any turkey fryers anywhere.  There were no adult sons out on bail loitering on the front porch. A nearby greenhouse was full of tomato plants. A permanent fruit stand stood just off their driveway, which I found out later was manned by the nanny’s husband a couple of times per week. I could just make out an airy, well-made chicken coop in the backyard where a bunch of chickens clucked.

Grandma Nanny opened the door to greet us before June and I even got out of the car. She had distinct “grandma energy” about her: warm, loving but firm.  And she had stylish white hair and glasses.  She invited me in. Her house was decorated as I’d hoped: homey, tidy and featured stuff like flouncy country curtains and lots of interesting knick knacks. A bowl of brown eggs sat on the counter.  Her husband, a wiry farmer wearing a worn baseball cap, sat in the dining alcove reading the paper. He was all smiles too.

We sat down in the living room and talked.  Whenever one of the five children she was minding that day would come in and interrupt, she’d politely shoo them away and tell them to hang out in the playroom, a converted bedroom covered in toys. One of the little girls responded, “Okay, Me-maw” and went away. The subtext was clear: Grandma Nanny was in charge. And the kids get to call her “Me-maw.”

When she asked to hold June, June immediately conked out on her shoulder. See, even infants can sense grandma energy.

I asked her a few questions about playtime, nap schedules and feedings, and also her thoughts on discipline (time outs).  And whether, when the time comes, June will be expected to call her “Me-maw.”  When I asked her favorite age of child to mind, she glanced down at sleeping June and replied, “These littler fellers.”

What can I say? She had me at “these little fellers.”

I feel good about Grandma Nanny. Or am I projecting?  I want June to be in good hands — the best hands, so maybe I’m making Grandma Nanny out to be someone she’s not. Maybe as soon as I leave, she’ll lock the kids in the bedroom, toss June in a drawer and turn on Supermarket Sweep. But she comes with good references so…..how bad can she be? And is that the worst question a parent can ask about a potential caregiver?

I’m placing my bets.  I’m going to give her a try.  Starting next week.

Gulp.