I am yaya-less. Yet again. The latest—the fourth in a span of three years—left as most youngish ones do this time of year: to “exercise” those twinkle toes on some dusty basketball court. I can picture her now: all spiffed up for the hunt. Feet tapping to the beat of—God forbid!—Brother Louie, eyes surveying the scene for the “perfect” catch. Ah, our delusions when we are eighteen!
And so I find myself in a refrain that is now becoming all-too familiar. It’s as if I’m living a page from The Nanny Diaries. Minus the Manhattan skyline, the designer cardigans, and everything chi-chi, of course. I am scouting. Which is actually something short of "pirating," as I am keenly eyeing the yaya next door.
When I was young and single (and right, restless, too), I thought mothers who obsessed about yayas were too much. OA, in fact. But now I know better. My sanity now rests on the eight hours that the nanny puts in when I'm away at work. I have joined the ranks of the helpless and the hapless. I have turned into someone's "ate."
I guess I'm lucky, because home is a place where I can afford to have maids. Where I don't have to work myself to the bone so I can pay for the sitter. Sisters and friends who have moved elsewhere all tell me that this is what they miss most about home: the comfort of knowing that help is just around the corner. Or in the next town. Or from those who have made a career out of "scouting."
But not on days like this, when there are fiestas left and right. Not when progesterones and testosterones are on level highs. Not when there are "dances" lasting until the wee hours.
And so, while Yaya #4 is getting her dancing feet all dusty, I am doing my own dance. Interviewing, searching, hoping that Yaya #5 won't be as twinkle-toed as the rest of them. Wishful thinking, really.
5 comments:
My younger sister used to have the same problem with her nannies. After the last one left for that much-awaited town fiesta, she decided then never to hire anyone under 21 and hire only only those who are older and have families of their own.
Good luck in your search, Anna... :-)
hehehe, i've been through that "helpless and hapless" stage too. if it is any consolation, that will come to pass because as your kid grows up, there would be less need for a yaya.
goodluck in that Yaya search. hope you find a fitting one. ;)
i know what that feels like. it can get really frustrating..especially when the most recent yaya was somewhat ok. anyway, i hope you find one soon..for your own sanity :)
So, its that time of year again? But isn't Ms. Twinkle Toes coming back after the stardust comes off?
Ay naku ... that's the classic story of working moms. Back in those days, keeping yayas is topmost of my troubles. Pero you're right swerte pa din tayo dito sa Pinas.
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