Child-rearing Predicament

"I found another nanny for $15 an hour", said Pavana.

I began doing the customary day-week-month math in my mind. I don't know about you, but when I do mental math, my facial expression acquires a glassy-eyed aspect, sort of like how one of those tongue-tied fellows at the back of the classroom look when interrogated by the math teacher as to how many chaps are needed to complete a task in x days if y chaps can complete the task in z days. You get the posish.

"Oy?", Pavana's voice violently hit me between the eyebrows.

"What about COVID?", I blurted out insincerely.

"What about COVID?", echoed Pavana, albeit with a more austere intonation.  She had clearly sensed my insincerity.

"Actually, I think I can watch Mira while working...", I altered my response.

This proposal was plainly the unbaked solution to the day-week-month math problem talking.

"She is available from 10 to 2, which is what we need", said Pavana, seemingly ignoring my proposal but making a mental note to use it against me later. To be fair, I had blurted out the same unconvincing proposal about a dozen times during the week leading up to this conversation. I recognized I needed a more solid justification. I shepherded my brain back to solving the day-week-month math problem.

"I prefer this", Pavana continued, "If Mira can sleep from 2 to 4 and then....". Her voice first turned into a faint echo, then trailed off into the distance.

Truth be told, during that entire week, I had plugged in all possible values for the variables in the above day-week-month math problem. No result had convinced me. Meanwhile, Pavana seemed to have devised a strategy and all to bring me to her side of the aisle. No opportunity was missed in the next few days.  For example, this conversation:

Me: I need to pee, can you see Mira for a couple minutes?
P: Wait, I thought you said you would watch her all day?

Me: (mind voice) When did I say 'all day'?

Or this conversation:

Me: I have class today at 5, can I leave Mira with you?

P: Wait, I thought you said you would watch her all day?

Me: (mind voice) ...........'all day'? 

Or this conversation:

Me: I need to take the trash out. I'll leave her on the high chair.  Just keep a watch, okay?

P: Wait, I thought you said you would watch her all day?

Me: (mind voice) ............. <heartbeat flatline sound>

Does marriage come with a Miranda warning?  Something along the lines of “You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say can and will be embellished and used against you while in the state of matrimony”?  Especially for husbands?  No?  If not, it should.

Don't get me wrong. Pavana's share of watching Mira in general far exceeds mine, what with her being the mom, and Mira saying "Amma" all the time.  As Pavana says, watching her doesn't mean just letting her play in one corner and sitting in another scrolling down Facebook and Insta feeds.  The watcher, she says, must engage with her, play blocks with her, change her diapers, teach her words, expose her to the wonders of colors and shapes, converse with her regarding matters of the world, what have you.  I do not disagree.  In fact, if anything did eventually convince me to employ a nanny, it was this socio-educational aspect of child-rearing.

We did ultimately employ a nanny.  We did so while acknowledging to ourselves that a nanny is definitely luxury, not a necessity.  We did so while reminding ourselves that we had scoffed at the very idea of a nanny not that long ago.  As is with any luxury product, our nanny offers us additional peace of mind, an emotional cushion, if you will, especially helping us go about our work day guilt-free and allowing us to be more productive at work.  We also have the added assurance that there is someone qualified who is spending time with Mira, taking to her, playing with her, teaching her things, reading to her, and essentially being an extension of us raising her and loving her.