Let’s drop the act and hug.

We live in a world where exhaustion is a trophy and play is something left behind in grade school. We are expected to crush our careers, cheer the loudest at every soccer game, kick ass at chores and house management, kill it at the gym, find time to chill, child-free with people our own age, all on our own without breaking a sweat. I’m exhausted just writing it all down, and yet there is so much judgment and shame in the parenting and caregiving community. With endless supposed to, should, I can’t believe they did or didn’t, we quietly judge others’ food and clothing choices, discipline styles, hygiene practices, school programs, and support systems.

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As an educator, professional nanny, enrichment program director, and early childhood education advocate, I have worked with families and children in countless environments, ages, and stages. Though each brings their own unique challenges and celebrations, one thing that seems to remain constant is the conflict between the adults in the room. Dr. Brené Brown describes this phenomenon of comparative and judgmental behavior in her book, The Gifts of Imperfection, as byproducts of our own shame. Our society promotes “the hustle to belong” by being one step ahead of everyone around you in every little thing, while veiling our own bumps along the road. While we let shame drive our lives and interactions with others in hopes to appear more put together and therefore accepted, we ironically close the door on vulnerability, the root of connection.

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When we look in the mirror, what’s reflected back is often a collage of others’ expectations of us patched together with clothes we are supposed to wear and masked by emotions we are supposed to feel. Even well into adulthood, we are striving to fit in and be “cool”. We skip over the part of the story where we forgot to close the door all the way and the dog got out, and while we were chasing the dog, the toddler climbed up to the art cabinet and found the beads and was experimenting with how many they could fit in their nose. We don’t share the mental breakdown we had and the poetically cruel string of curse words we said to ourselves when we walked in carrying the 35-pound dog and saw the scene. We compare ourselves to others and wonder how the classroom parent seems to do it all while we silently fire off attacks their way or shame ourselves for not keeping up.

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We are not compassionate to ourselves, therefore we cannot be truly compassionate to others.  When we make a mistake, we’re quick to call ourselves stupid or careless. When we see a small misstep in a co-worker, we make sweeping assumptions about their work ethic and capabilities. When our kids make a mistake, we can be quick to respond, “what were you thinking?” This drive for perfection, lack of compassion, and shame roots out any and all vulnerabilities and affects our relationship with ourselves and each and every person around us, including our nannies and childcare providers.

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We’re working, we’re tired, we are only one person and we can’t be everywhere at once. We allow ourselves that truth and in turn start to expand our support systems. That relationship between childcare provider and family is as unique as it is rewarding as it is prickly. From the nanny’s perspective, your boss’s home is your office, you occasionally fold their underwear, and maybe you found a surprise when organizing your boss’s closet. From the family’s perspective, your home is someone’s office, a person you met on the internet is a part of raising your child, and you’re straddling the fine line between opening up as a family and being professional. When you invite a nanny into your village (and we all know it takes one…maybe two), you are expected to weave each of these raw materials, all made of something completely different, into something magical, mutually beneficial, and intimate.

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As parents, we want our children to be safe, loved, and engaged. As employers we want our employees to perform, thrive, stay professional, and there is an element of 'getting our money’s worth' tickling at the back of our minds. As people, we want to feel connected to those around us, especially those in our home. As nannies, we want your children to be safe, loved, engaged and to be part of making your lives easier. As employees, we want to be compensated for our expertise and time, to be appreciated and told thank you, to be respected by you and everyone that comes through your home. As people, we want to feel connected, especially with those with whom we spend the most time. The goals of each party are similar and yet, much like the parenting community, there are times when instead of opening up, we shut down. We let the need to be perceived as a super nanny or a rockstar parent get in the way of vulnerability and truth.

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It can be easy to compare, judge, criticize, and micromanage when the stakes are so high (they are your kids after all) and the relationship is somewhere in the middle of extended family and a line item in your taxes. In the same sentiment, it is easy for your nanny to hold your family to the expectations of a previous employer, make silent judgements on your parenting style, or feel superior because they have a better handle on the kids’ routine. The balance and transfer of power and decisions when it comes to the daily lives of your kids offers a whole lot of opportunities for the “shame gremlins” as Dr. Brown calls them, to rear their ugly heads.

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We can feel shame when our nanny remembers to order the birthday cake before we do and we can feel shame when a parent reminds us that we don’t use timeouts in their home. Instead of embracing vulnerability, “don’t worry about it! I forgot my own mother’s birthday a few years back. I was scrambling like you’d never believe,” or “I am so tempted to lock them in a box sometimes, too. Thanks for working with us to maintain this approach,” we ride our shame on our mighty horses and shy away from sharing our own missteps and failures. When we miss that opportunity to connect and instead use it as a shield for our own shame, we deflect and blame and push each other away. Language like, “I always remember birthdays because I am sure to put it on my calendar” or “from my research, timeout just isn’t effective and is out of date. That’s why we don’t use it” promotes shame and builds resentment. Dr. Brown suggests the only antidote to shame is vulnerability, which in turn leads to connection.

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Vulnerability is a big ask and not always easy to initiate. However, those closest to us, like the ones helping to raise our children, are prime contenders for this sweet spot of connection. Instead of micromanaging the way your caregiver folds towels or the language they made up with your kid, allow them to truly be a part of your world. Share and open up about behavior you observe. As you both begin to share and connect through moments like, “I noticed the kids love the carrots you make. I can’t get them to touch the ones I make! What’s your secret?” to something a little more sensitive like when your nanny says, “I’ve been having a really hard time getting the kids to settle down for rest when you pop in during their nap routine. Can we think of a plan together where you can have some time with them that doesn’t interrupt that flow?,” you’ll find that setting and maintaining boundaries becomes easier and eases tension on all sides. After all, we can’t feel connected to someone we feel is wreaking havoc on the life we are trying to build (even if deep down we know we haven’t communicated the expectations clearly). Resentment from us begets resentment from them and we all find ourselves on our own lonely islands.

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The truth is yes, sometimes as humans we crush it, and the other truth is sometimes as humans we don’t. Allowing space for silliness and moments of truthful connection, along with compassion for yourself, are great places to start in washing away ideas of perfectionism and shame. One of the best parts of all of this is that by practicing these behaviors and exercising self-love, we role-model these traits for the children in our lives. When we speak compassionately to ourselves and others, our children learn that a person's character, including their own, is not defined by a mistake. We can teach our children how to genuinely connect with themselves and the people around them simply by giving ourselves the grace of being imperfect.

Written by: Kristin Sarmiento Geary (2022)

Edited by: Austin Macfarlane