Gemma--a frightful 4?As a working mother I am often asked how I juggle an important role like Supervising Producer for the Martha Stewart Show and the role of mom to five children under the age of 11. The answer is quite simple. You need to rely on 3 important things. First, make sure you have a very reliable nanny; secondly, you need an extremely understanding and supportive husband. And lastly you need to have a secret stash of Twix bars at your disposal for any last minute crisis. Last night was a night when my stash became depleted. I will try and make a long story short. Here goes…
Just before our summer break at the Martha Stewart Show our nanny decided to switch careers and work in retail and management. It actually kind of worked out because I was going to be home with the children for the summer so we could put off finding a nanny until I would return to work in August. Recently a family friend told us she could watch the children for the month of August. This gave us a bit more time to find the right nanny for the children. Great…except after working for us for only 7 days she announced last night that she was leaving. No advance notice…no “let me stay until you find someone”, not even an “I’m sorry to have to do this to you”…just an “I’m done”. How could this family friend leave us in a pinch? Bob asked her why (since he was the one who got the news first and I was still on the train). She said the reason was because Gemma had a meltdown. When my husband told me this…all I could say was, “Gemma? Sweet Gemma? Our daughter with the sweetest eyes that warms your heart all over? Gemma—our daughter who’s smile wraps you around her little finger?” It was at this point that the gold wrapper furiously became undone---ahh, the first bite of my Twix bar…my worries started easing…but then back to reality. What kind of meltdown could Gemma have had? According to an eyewitness (it’s great having children old enough to interpret play by play moments like these); Gemma threw clothes all over the room. That was it. Upon hearing that I begin to figure out what was happening. To continue making a long story short---let me tell you that none of my daughters have ever gone through the “Terrible Two” stage. Never—ever! Now before you say I’m just plain lucky—or just a horrible liar—I will tell you the follow-up to that sentence. While my kids didn’t hit the terrible twos that doesn’t mean I didn’t live through the “Tumultuous Threes”, or the “Frightful Fours” or the “Fearful Fives”. Gemma who recently turned 4 is just getting into her groove—and by Deyo family standards she is actually a late bloomer with the meltdowns. Nonetheless, this is what kids do…don’t they? Occasionally have a meltdown or two? I guess our family friend hasn’t been friend enough to notice. Bring on more Twix!
As my husband and I figured out our plan B—which needed to take place in less than 24 hours—the phone rang. It was our family friend. She thought things over and wanted to give it another chance. Desperate measures for us mean…yes there will be another chance (it buys us more time for plan B…and those Twix taste really good).
Crisis averted…now time to call my mom and vent. Only when I called my mom my brother was on the phone. My dad wasn’t feeling well and so he was taking him to the emergency room. (Will there be any Twix left before the night is over?)
Thankfully this day has a happy ending…my dad was sent home from the hospital…he’s feeling better. Tomorrow is a new day—a day to replenish my Twix supply.
Just before our summer break at the Martha Stewart Show our nanny decided to switch careers and work in retail and management. It actually kind of worked out because I was going to be home with the children for the summer so we could put off finding a nanny until I would return to work in August. Recently a family friend told us she could watch the children for the month of August. This gave us a bit more time to find the right nanny for the children. Great…except after working for us for only 7 days she announced last night that she was leaving. No advance notice…no “let me stay until you find someone”, not even an “I’m sorry to have to do this to you”…just an “I’m done”. How could this family friend leave us in a pinch? Bob asked her why (since he was the one who got the news first and I was still on the train). She said the reason was because Gemma had a meltdown. When my husband told me this…all I could say was, “Gemma? Sweet Gemma? Our daughter with the sweetest eyes that warms your heart all over? Gemma—our daughter who’s smile wraps you around her little finger?” It was at this point that the gold wrapper furiously became undone---ahh, the first bite of my Twix bar…my worries started easing…but then back to reality. What kind of meltdown could Gemma have had? According to an eyewitness (it’s great having children old enough to interpret play by play moments like these); Gemma threw clothes all over the room. That was it. Upon hearing that I begin to figure out what was happening. To continue making a long story short---let me tell you that none of my daughters have ever gone through the “Terrible Two” stage. Never—ever! Now before you say I’m just plain lucky—or just a horrible liar—I will tell you the follow-up to that sentence. While my kids didn’t hit the terrible twos that doesn’t mean I didn’t live through the “Tumultuous Threes”, or the “Frightful Fours” or the “Fearful Fives”. Gemma who recently turned 4 is just getting into her groove—and by Deyo family standards she is actually a late bloomer with the meltdowns. Nonetheless, this is what kids do…don’t they? Occasionally have a meltdown or two? I guess our family friend hasn’t been friend enough to notice. Bring on more Twix!
As my husband and I figured out our plan B—which needed to take place in less than 24 hours—the phone rang. It was our family friend. She thought things over and wanted to give it another chance. Desperate measures for us mean…yes there will be another chance (it buys us more time for plan B…and those Twix taste really good).
Crisis averted…now time to call my mom and vent. Only when I called my mom my brother was on the phone. My dad wasn’t feeling well and so he was taking him to the emergency room. (Will there be any Twix left before the night is over?)
Thankfully this day has a happy ending…my dad was sent home from the hospital…he’s feeling better. Tomorrow is a new day—a day to replenish my Twix supply.
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