Matt and I met with a neighborhood nanny who came highly recommended by friends. She's from Mexico (legally), and has the name of a hugely popular Mexican drink. I thought it was a sign at first, because I'm partial to alcohol.
We went to her house, where, there dwelling with her family, were at least 19 Guadeloupean Virgin Mary and Jesus icons, either hanging on walls or collecting dust on carved, folksy, wooden tables. The kind lady never stopped talking during our entire visit, and when we left, Matt said, "I'd rather go to the dentist once a week than have to pick up my child and talk with that lady everyday. I would just honk from my car and let her carry him/her out."
We also decided that one Virgin Mary or Jesus -- your choice -- is ok, if you're in to that type of thing, but that 19 was way too scary for our little non-denominational cherub.
I cried when we left, and told Matt that I know the answer: the best nanny is ME. He wholeheartedly agreed. Details to sort out later.
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