The young man professionally dressed, good-looking, and pulling a cart with several briefcases reached the intersection at the same time as Max and me. I motioned to him to go ahead and he replied, “No, babies always take precedence over briefcases.” I’m sure he had no idea of how importantly his words had impacted me. Immediately I felt a flood of emotions stirred up inside me, and a gratifying sense of acknowledgment, which I hadn’t expected. It was, as I later described in my nanny notebook, “a memorable moment.”
For decades I had struggled with the question of how I would find an enjoyable, fulfilling career. I had given up on connecting with my passionate side and agonized endlessly over it. Some people jokingly suggested that it might take several lifetimes before that fulfillment would come. Even that felt depressing, and yet in a strange way, it was a relief.
Many years before, my father advised me that I did have a choice. His words were simple, but to the point. “When you graduate from high school, you either need to go to college or find a job.” College seemed the logical choice considering I had no idea of what I wanted to do and plenty of fear of "the real world.” My list of jobs over the years was endless. Some of them included: hospital admittance clerk, market research interviewer and supervisor, junior high school German teacher, substitute teacher, special education assistant, student essay scorer, political phone bank supervisor, and advertising account representative. It took me countless years and thousands of dollars before I finally discovered that in my life babies do take precedence over briefcases. I’ve finally come to experience passion, joy, and laughter as essential components in my everyday work-life as well as at home. I’ve felt an overwhelming desire to nurture young children as well as myself, to be spontaneous, to giggle and laugh at the simplest of things, and to explore and appreciate nature. Being outdoors surrounded by nature nourishes my soul and allows me to share my love of plants and animals with Max. On our walks we stop and listen to the sounds of birds, the wind rustling through the trees, and the little chipmunks and squirrels scampering about. We observe what we so often read about in children’s stories. It makes me feel alive.
About a year ago another of my many projects at my previous job concluded and I struggled with the reality that I needed to move on and explore new avenues of work. Initially I felt a real sadness about leaving a “safe job,” which was education-oriented, even though the work became sporadic. I wasn’t sure where to turn and wondered how I could use my education and yet work in a nurturing, caring environment. It was important to me that my many life experiences would be appreciated. I knew that it was no longer possible to go the corporate route. Ironically, it felt as though I had finally “made it” in that world, at least moderately. My reality, however, said that sitting at a desk all day felt suffocating and depressing. Someone else’s important deadline no longer mattered to me. Somehow I needed to make a dramatic change and not worry about how the rest of the world viewed me. I no longer needed to prove anything to anyone. My intuitive nature told me that it was important to be connected with kids again, on a one-to-one level. I searched through the want ads and discovered an ad for a nanny agency. At first I had real doubts about what I was doing. Wasn’t that just for young people, I wondered? For once I shoved that thought back down and trusted what my heart felt. I knew that I had a lot of love and knowledge to share, a youthful spirit, and a quirky, sometimes mischievous nature, which I felt kids could relate to.
Amazingly, almost from the start, Max and I did relate. I began to care for him when he was two months old, and now 10 months later, he’s been my nearly constant companion. Whether it’s reading and laughing together, strolling through the downtown Minneapolis skyway, or walking along the Mississippi River, we have wonderful adventures. Part of the fun is the interesting array of people we meet every day. Those connections seem as important as the link with nature. It’s fun and it’s funny, from the discount store employee who remarked, “I can think of a lot of people who’d like to be in that stroller right now” to the grocery store sales clerk announcing that “the king is here.” Max spreads joy and I love being a part of it. His smile is clearly infectious. As we were walking down the Nicollet Mall, the busiest street in downtown Minneapolis, a policeman spotted Max and said, “Looks like the boss is going on a walk today.” One day we were heading toward the river and a lady walking her little poodle said, “I don’t think he’s ever seen a stroller before.” I chuckled as I remembered being in New York City the year before and seeing a DOG in a stroller for the first time, a POODLE.
We’ve seen so much on our walks through downtown, including a young boy playing the bongo drums. His mother said that he had to earn a living somehow. Another time we spotted a construction worker with a teddy bear atop his truck, and a saxophonist who smiled at Max and kept right on playing. Recently we met a woman over 90 years old at the downtown post office. She was fascinated with Max. She said that he was sure to be a mathematician someday because he was very smart.
We frequently ventured through the skyway this past winter; it was nearby and it was our link to the city and its vibrant downtown life, at the same time sheltering us from the cold. One day as we were walking through the skyway, a carpet layer seemed eager to talk with us. He told Max how cute he was and then reminisced as he told us that he used to have a stroller where he could move the handles either way, but he felt selfish because he wanted to have it so he could always look at his kids. That was a genuine, connecting moment. The fact that it was unexpected made it even more endearing. How could I forget the coffee shop clerk who pulled out a little finger puppet for Max, who had been squealing? The clerk seemed unaffected by it and obviously wanted to make our stroll a little easier.
The endearing people we’ve met are only part of the reason why I’ve chosen babies over briefcases. Apart from so many other things, I’ve truly come to value “slowing down” and experiencing life moment by moment. I have time to appreciate the way Max makes direct eye contact with people, unlike so many of us adults. He has no fear or hesitation. Wouldn’t we as adults be wise to learn from that? Babies have an innate wisdom that I’ve come to appreciate.
I’ve also come to marvel at how excited I feel watching Max discover his first snowfall and seeing little sparrows pecking for food on a downtown street. We laughed at spotting my dog Martha peering through the front door of Max’s apartment building.
I also love the chance to just be myself. Where else can I be my absolute silliest and be appreciated for it? While putting on my shoes to go outside one day, I made a game of it with Max.” This is my SHOOO, Max ,” I said, bouncing my foot in an exaggerated motion on the floor. This went on for several moments; it was followed by uncontrollable laughter and giggling, first by him, and then by both of us. So many similar moments come naturally and spontaneously. One day we formed a special rock band—the BLOCK BANGERS. Max started by banging some of his blocks together and I followed his lead. He stopped and looked at me curiously; I stopped then too, and he realized what he was capable of—being the DIRECTOR in charge. Sometimes I get to be the CONDUCTOR in charge when I play different kinds of music and play my imaginary baton. Whether we listen to Frank Sinatra, Beethoven, Louis Armstrong, or Linda Ronstadt, Max seems interested and excited. Now and then I goof and my silly ways create a problem, unintentionally of course. Recently Max and I played a simple game I taught him, shaking soft little objects off our heads. It was great fun and we got very silly and giggly, but now Max doesn’t want to keep a hat on; he just wants to shake it off. He learns fast. I’m not always the teacher I want to be.
I do LEARN well however. Max has taught me that simple joys in life are irreplaceable. No amount of money or corporate offer will fill my needs again. I could read stories for hours on end, laugh at silly new words and songs every day, and sit by a lake or river and soak up the goodness of life and babies. I delight in a small child’s everyday joys and achievements. We clap and cheer each new one, whether it’s learning how to turn the pages of a book by himself, spinning around in his Jump-up, rolling over for the first time, imitating new sounds, or delighting in the fun and power of his voice. Together we can be spontaneous and creative and happy. We can lie on a blanket and look up in the ceiling in wonder. We can stop and listen to the curious and enchanting sounds of nature and tune in to the stories of everyday people.
Some time ago an elderly gentleman asked me if I was the mother or grandmother. I said, “Neither, he’s my buddy. “ He replied, “All babies are.” Max was my sensitive little buddy recently when my mother died. I was feeling very sad and tender. I wrote about her and what she had meant to me. Max seemed to understand my sadness. Maybe intuitively he knew that I needed extra hugs that day, the day after she died. Because of my mother’s death I have also come to value so many things more and to understand the fragile nature of life.
I am grateful to the stranger on the streets of Minneapolis for reminding me of what I already knew in my heart—BABIES DO TAKE PRECEDENCE OVER BRIEFCASES.
my own special baby thirty-five years ago
A LAZY THOUGHT
There go the grownups
To the office
To the store
Subway rush,
Traffic crush;
Hurry, scurry,
Worry, flurry
No wonder
Grownups
Don’t grow up
Any more.
It takes a lot
Of slow
To grow.
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