We picked up our new nanny at 3pm. She got into the car and she was just as sweet as I remember her from the initial interview. The kids were all aflutter with stories and questions for her. I could barely get a word in edgewise. We pulled up the driveway and brought her suitcases inside. I gave her a quick tour and showed her the important things – how to use the dishwasher, the vacuum, the washer and dryer.

And then….

I offered her a coffee and we sat down at the table to drink.

How had I forgotten how to be an employer? How is it that I was more comfortable having a coffee date with my new nanny than putting her to work on my kitchen that so desperately needed some TLC and some scrubbing? How is it that I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what to do? I mean, this is the person I am paying to watch my children and clean my house. It’s her JOB. I went upstairs to HIDE regroup.

And then I came downstairs with The Orientation Booklet that I put together for her. I mean, I remember getting one of those for my last job, why shouldn’t NannyCora get one too?! Inside I included information about my children; their names, birthdays, likes, dislikes. I included names and numbers of friends and family. I included a sample of a daily schedule; weekly schedule; monthly schedule. I included healthy after-school snack ideas. I included maps of the neighborhood and places to visit. I included my expectations of her as an employee.

I put a magnetized notepad up on the fridge; it’s a place for her to put notes, a place for her to tell me what foods she likes to eat and what supplies need replenishing.

I left her alone with the three kids to get acquainted. I listened from the top of the stairs to hear them chatting about Passover and the movie Rio and Emily’s guitar lessons and her role in Hairspray. There was lots of gabbing and lots of giggling.

I had her assist while making dinner so she could learn to cook one of our once-a-week family staples.

After dinner I went upstairs to bathe the two younger kidlets. When I came downstairs, I walked into a completely spotless kitchen.

After that I went upstairs to talk to my children. “Mama. We REALLY like NannyCora.”

Perhaps I *am* doing something right after all.

But I am still offering her a coffee tomorrow morning.