You Know You Are a Granny Nanny If . . .

Granny nannies come in all shapes and sizes: young and old, male and female, paid and unpaid. Some granny nannies babysit in their own homes, others travel to their grandchildren’s homes. Some watch their charges every other weekend, others are on duty every workday Monday to Friday from 9 to 5. Still others watch their grandchildren on a regular basis for parents who are not employed outside the home.

Fundamentally, there are only two defining factors for a granny nanny. First, a granny nanny must be a relative from a generation older than the child’s parent—grandparent or great-grandparent, great aunt or uncle or first cousin, once removed. Second, the granny nanny must watch this child on a regular basis.

Being a granny nanny is more a state of mind than a state of being. Ultimately, anyone can choose to self-identify as a granny nanny. Should you choose to self-identify as a granny nanny? The following list, far from comprehensive, might help you decide. 

You know you are a granny nanny if

  

—You instinctively point to a passing train and exclaim, “Look a Choo-Choo,” when there are only adult passengers in your car.

—Offering to drive more than one of your friends requires uninstalling all the car seats in the back.

—A school of goldfish swims amongst the graveyard of juice boxes on the floor in the backseat of your car.

—No trip, whether it is to the bathroom or to the grocery store, is complete without significant logistical planning. Inevitably, you find yourself always forgetting the same crucial step.

—You constantly find yourself monologuing, often when no one is around: “Now Grandma is putting on her socks. Now she is putting on her shoes. Now we can go outside . . . ”

—Whenever you stuff your hands in your pockets, you usually pull out at least one pacifier, two dry wipes, and several used tissues.

—Your trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night require you to navigate a minefield of Duplo blocks and vintage Fisher Price Little People.

—Your alarm clock is a relic—you are now awakened to the sounds of the garage door opening and the patter of little feet across the floor to your bedroom.

—You keep forgetting that you have banished the scissors to the top of the refrigerator.

—The crunchy sounds and sticky, resistant pull on your sneakers as you walk across your kitchen floor on Thursday night, even though you washed it on Wednesday afternoon, remind you of exiting a movie theatre aisle after a late Saturday evening show.

—Sippy cups have invaded your cupboards.

—You look longingly at the “Dry Clean Only” clothes in your closet.

—Multiple wardrobe changes each day are a necessity, not a choice.

—You have reacquainted yourself with the fine art of removing peanut butter, grape juice, spit up and poop stains.

—Crusty, sticky bits hamper your usual quick swipe across your iPad screen, reminding you that someone forgot to wash your grandchildren’s hands after their snack.

—The videocassette library you collected each time the Disney Vault opened and saved all these years for when you had grandchildren sits on dusty, forgotten shelves, unused and irrelevant.

—You find random hieroglyphics throughout your house—on the countertop, bathroom walls, closet doors, and windows.

—The three-foot-mark on your sliding glass door often boasts the stylings of an avant-garde, yogurt-fingerpaint artist.

—Most importantly, you considered yourself blessed because you are never lonely or bereft of kisses.