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My Nanny Found My Blog

Photograph by Getty Images

While at work during the day, I love to get texts from my nanny with updates about my kids’ activities or a cute picture of them smiling during lunch. But the middle of the night text from my nanny gave me pause, because I knew it was unlikely to include a picture of my kids or a funny thing they said. As I read her text I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She wrote, “I just found your blog.”

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I couldn’t tell whether she was mad or amused or afraid. I only knew that I was sweating profusely at the thought that she had read some of the things I had written about her, even though we have a good relationship and I didn’t think there was anything “bad.” For the rest of the night, I berated myself for not seeing this coming. I mean, I’m not the Pioneer Woman, but anyone with a wireless connection and a computer can find me. In my head I scrolled through all the posts that featured my anonymous nanny and wondered how offensive or wrong she thought it was.

I knew I never meant to hurt her, but nevertheless, she was understandably skittish about the way in which I process relationships.

It wasn't that she was upset exactly. But she was concerned. She had seen this post and was worried that I might one day write a post about something that bothered me instead of talking directly to her. And I could see her point. In the past, I had avoided confrontation about matters that made their way to my blog. She was understandably worried that I might air our dirty laundry on the world wide web.

Funny, I often worried that prospective employers might find my blog and wonder about my sanity, civility, judgment—or all three. Every so often, I would clean up my language and tone down my snark just in case one day I decide to run for public office or work for a high-security organization. I never, however, considered how it might feel for someone I had hired to find my words.

My nanny and I had a long talk about the things I’ve written on my blog—some of which are about her and some of them are about other caretakers we have worked with. I heard her out and commenced a deep soul searching. I knew I never meant to hurt her, but nevertheless, she was understandably skittish about the way in which I process relationships: very publicly and very much through my own one-sided vantage point.

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While the details and full outcome of our discussion are private (because I’ve learned my lesson!), I have made changes to how I think about what I write about the people I entrust to care for my children. They deserve my respect and their own privacy as much as they deserve that paycheck at the end of the week.

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