Undercover mother: Moms court intrigue over nanny time
By Beth Teitell
Thursday, July 8, 2004
If you ask me, Newsweek missed the real story, although admittedly it's not as sexy as the one whose headline screams from this week's cover: ``The New Infidelity: From Office Affairs to Internet Hookups, More Wives are Cheating Too.''
Please. Amateur stuff. What's the real new infidelity? Wives lying to their husbands (and their friends, nosy onlookers and even sometimes themselves) about how much babysitting or nanny time they use each week.
These cheaters aren't sneaking off to meet a lover, no, their rendezvous is with blissful solitude - reading in a coffee shop, maybe, or working the sale racks at Neiman's.
Or, perhaps they are heading for an assignation - with a girlfriend, a hairdresser, or the StairMaster.
I was out with the mother of a toddler last week (I didn't ask whether her husband or a sitter was on duty at home, and she didn't tell), and after a few beers, she leaned forward, lowered her voice, and revealed her methods:
``I rearrange my schedule so I'm the one who comes home to pay her,'' she began. ``And if I absolutely can't get home, I put her money in an envelope - sealed, and marked `for Leslie's eyes only.'
``I pay in cash,'' she added, ``so there's no paper trail.''
She might have been joking about the unmarked bills, but she was deadly serious.
For many mothers who don't work, or work only part time, or even those who do work, using a babysitter during off hours is the stuff of shame - and necessity.
I mentioned my friend's subterfuge to another friend, this one the mother of two preschoolers, and a smile of recognition lit her face.
She, too, had tasted the guilty pleasure of illicit day care.
``I always tell my husband I'm cutting back (on babysitting time),'' she began.
``It makes it seem like I'm doing my `work' (namely, spending time with the children she gave up her career to care for).
``I try to avoid telling I've had a pedicure, or that I'm going out for lunch or shopping. I hope he doesn't notice my nails or new clothes (although in a sense they're for him).
``But what's more important is that he should never know that I'm having a good time. He should always be feeling sorry for me. I try to make my life seem like it's all grocery shopping and cooking - very drudgy - so when he has a free moment he should be doing something for me.''
She paused, fetched a bucket of sidewalk chalk for her kids (see, she was with them, really) and told me a story she considers shocking:
``My sister lets her husband write the (nanny) checks. That's like letting your husband look at your phone bill or your credit card statement. Those are your bills. I don't care if you have to write 10 checks at midnight and sign them - you take care of it.''
``So how, exactly, do you lie to your husband?'' I asked.
She pondered my question, and I could see that I'd inadvertently put her on the defensive. ``Lie is kind of a strong word,'' she said. ``Let's just say I'm vague.''
