So many friends have children at this point that things are starting to get awkward. I find I’m not as able to relate to them as I once was, or them to me, as it were, and it’s upsetting how out-of-the-loop I am. To narrow the gap, I’ve started a pro-active plan to help me better empathize with what my friends are experiencing: the only way to understand is to go through it yourself.
To start, I’ve brought in a Malaysian nanny three days a week. She helps around the condo with various errands, and some hands on things too. I’ve asked let her to burp me after eating, for example. I want to know not only what the parents are going through, but also the kids. I weigh a bit more, so we have to contend with that when I’m over her shoulder, and once, the burping led to intercourse, which is something I’ve heard happens with new dads and nannies. I already understand better how this happens when you have kids.
Last weekend, I went to a child rental facility where they let you lease by the hour– sort of like Zip Car for infants– and I got to take a tike out as if it was mine. All the gadgets like the stroller and milk bottle are not included, so it’s a bit of a racket, but you obviously need it, and when you chalk it all up, it’s worth it for the true experience. With kids, it’s never just one thing you have to pay for. if they want to go to the park, it’s going to entail a number of maneuvers that require you to pull out your wallet.
I pushed the little guy around Central Park for a bit and ended up at the Carousel. It’s fascinating how easily people will talk to you when you have a munchkin in tow. It opens the door immediately. I haven’t done the research quite yet, by my guess is that serial killers don’t procreate that much.
Unfortunately, I didn’t meet any other parents there, which was disappointing because that was reason I was doing this. But odds are if you’re living in Manhattan with a kid or two, you’re both working full -time because it’s so stupid-ass expensive. Did my friend tell me pre-school was $28,000 a year?
In the park, I was lucky to meet several young nannies and eventually have sex with them. One was from Jamaica and I have never had sex with a Jamaican before, so that was a real bonus. One of my goals before I marry is to have sleep with someone from all seven continents. Islands kind of open it up to an infinite number, but I’ve started a small side project there…
The two nannies from Sweden were the best, though. Apparently, if you’re any kind of Scandinavian, you’re not a nanny but an “au pair”, which is actually a French term. They kiss in the French style as well, which I noted at the time, and found it interesting how little hang-ups they have about group sex. America could really take a page from them in general.
Either way, it was a great day out. I forgot the kid at the Park at one point, which was hilarious. I had met this very young woman from Ecuador who was actually soliciting nanny work from me. I asked to interview her, I can’t just hire anyone to care for my kid, and we strolled a bit, and then I just kissed her.
Latin women like that type of aggressive move, I’ve found. We were about to walk into one of those newly cleaned public bathrooms, thanks to Bloomberg, when she was like, “Hey, what about your son?” And I was like, shit! You are really good. I was mad at myself for losing the little guy. I mean, try getting a security deposit back when all you show up with is the stroller.
She was sharp, this one, and it was a window into how serious child-care is for parents, and where their minds must be most of the time. For the rest of the day I was checking every ten minutes: cell phone, wallet, keys, kid. I told the Latin nanny I would hire her, and I meant it… when I have kids, that is. A woman like this would be thoughtful and protective and nurturing. She certainly was with me, when we met later that week. And her body was about as definition perfect as you can find on a 21-year-old.
After relating these anecdotes to a few college-pals-turned-dads, I realized I was not having as much luck relating to my friends with kids as I had hoped. I was told that I should get out of the city and head up to the suburbs where things are much, much different.
I attended an Easter egg hunt with my friend and his 4-year-old daughter. I was really looking forward to seeing her run around and find the colored treats. I have such great memories of doing it myself. But what I discovered was far bleaker.
In Westchester, child rearing is a competitive sport. Your child’s success is a reflection of your own, so something as mundane as an Easter egg hunt becomes a life or death struggle to maintain social dominance or even climb a wrung or two above the competition.
I was disappointed to learn that Kyla, my friends precocious four-year old, was using GPS. It’s just not the same as the free styling fun we had in our youth, when you had to actually search, get lost, spin around, run to wherever someone else found an egg and hope there were others. But now, with modern technology, most of that old fun is long gone.
Aware of this advantage, other parents had purchased military scramblers to send Kyla off in the wrong direction. But my friend had invested in the very best GPS, Israeli designed, and it could operate on a frequency they were not able to scramble, so the kid cleaned fucking house. There were almost no eggs left for any of the other kids. My friend was beaming in his Lexus Hybrid on the way home, a trunk full of milk-chocolate weighting down the car, as Kyla napped peacefully in back.
I started to get the picture of how it really is raising a kid in today’s world. I’m pretty sure I’m ready to do it. I did, however, run into my buddy’s kid sister at the Easter egg hunt. She was babysitting for him and his wife while they were away for the weekend at their modest 8000 foot pied-à-terre in South Hampton. And she had bloomed into quite the young woman.
I told her I was thinking about having kids but hadn’t yet because I was still practicing a lot. She didn’t quite understand, so I offered to drop by after the little ones were asleep and give her a better idea of what I meant.
It’s always easier to understand something when you get some hands on experience.
