My nanny made me cry

Why hearing criticism sucks + a reminder that learning to listen can be a gift to your growth

invaders of personal space

January will mark the third year with our nanny. She has seen it all in my family, for better or worse. She has enough content to write a book about the weird stuff she’s seen in her career in the throes of babysitting children, going on vacations with us, folding everyone’s undies, and being asked to run weird personal errands. Only in this role do you see the nitty gritty of how a house and its people operate. Much of it ain’t pretty.

Recently, near the end of her work day, my two dogs greeted me like they usually do when I enter the house. If you could measure the blood pressure of everyone involved, it would be through the roof, with wet noses pushing my sides, tails wagging furiously, and my dogs shoving their extra large bodies against me while I try to get a word in to my kids and nanny.

In this organic and authentic moment, she suggested setting boundaries with them.

It was a simple statement. One meant to help. My immediate reaction was meant to hinder.

She showed me what she does with her dogs when they get too riled up, a maneuver of a firm voice, a command, and follow through.

Instead of hearing her out, I went into defensive mode.

I replied back with a series of claims. “But I’ve tried all that” and “haven’t you seen me do this? They just won’t listen” and “I’ve been trying to train them for months and I’ve had it with them.”

Frustrated and embarrassed that, clearly, my dogs walk all over me, I began to cry.

We adopted our two dogs in their adult lives, both coming from different broken homes. We’ve had our white German Shepherd for 1.5 years and our Labrador Retriever for nearly a year. Because I’m Alpha, when my two dogs are together and see me around, they act neurotic. Like I have toddlers again, they follow me everywhere, not even going to the toilet is safe. I have an invasion of my personal space. And my life’s soundtrack is heavy panting and paw nails tip tapping behind me on our hardwood floors.

Before she left for the day, I told our nanny I’m sorry about my reaction. I just felt defeated. Poor thing, I sent my nanny off feeling awkward for making her boss cry.

When my husband came home, I told him I felt stupid for sobbing over her suggestion, and for not having a handle on our large dogs. I felt exposed and I failed as Alpha — for these dogs, for the peace in my home, for myself.

In my kitchen, I was sad, lacked confidence and sought reassurance from my husband. Of course I have been trying to train these dogs but it wasn’t working.

My husband said the supportive things I asked for him to tell me but in his agreement, I decided to stop listening to my excuses for why it’s not working. I decided to actually listen to what my nanny said earlier and stop feeling sorry for myself.

Maybe I haven’t been firm or haven’t followed through. Maybe I can be a better leader for these dogs. Maybe I am inconsistent. Maybe I don’t set firm boundaries. Sure, I have been working with them more closely with leash training on walks but maybe I’ve slacked off with them in the home. Maybe I can set my ego to the side. And maybe I need to just start over and try again.

My nanny sits in one of the most unique positions in our lives. Like a fly on the wall, she sees everything.

It’s hard to hear criticism, especially when it’s something you’ve been working to improve.

I sent her this text that night:

“I am choosing to take what you told me as an opportunity to try with the dogs again. It’s hard to take feedback and I value your feedback! I had my pity party. What was happening wasn’t working and I’ll try again!”

In the weeks since this Stephanie-crybaby incident, I’ve taken my nanny’s advice to heart. I took action and tried her suggestions. Everyone in the house has helped setting firmer boundaries with the dogs. Our giant furries are thriving with better leadership and direction from me. For the first time since we’ve had them, they are listening more and everyone is feeling better about it.

My nanny unintentionally made me cry a few weeks ago but it was one of the best outcomes because, although it was hard to hear the feedback, I decided to listen.

Here was her response to my text. It looks like she listens to me, too:

“All you can do is try! I don’t think you’re doing anything “wrong” I just think Maeve is a complicated case and there’s no right way to go about it just have to throw things at the wall and see what sticks!

Also I’m sorry for making you upset it wasn’t my intention. If I came across harsh in any way I’m sorry just wanted to share my thoughts in hopes it would help. I know you’ve tried a lot and it’s frustrating, but I do want to say that when you guys say on the podcast that the decision you make is the best decision for you because you made it, goes for you too!! I know you don’t want to feel judged for your decisions but at the end of the day it’s your family and your mental health that matter most and there are always solutions to problems, even if they aren’t the ones we originally wanted. Fuck anyone who judges you over that. Okay my rant is over I hope you have a good night and I’ll see you guys tomorrow 💕”

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Substack Reads: Rising Writers

This is a play on Substack Reads — a curated list of Substack articles I enjoy. My version includes authors with smaller subscriber numbers (in the hundreds).

I found

Sue

when we were in the same Substack group doing The Artist’s Way together. She wrote a beautiful piece this week about being caught in the middle of two worlds, exploring being bi-lingual, with this strong metaphor: “Living in a second language often feels like walking with a small pebble in my shoe. The more fluent I become, the smaller the pebble, but it never disappears, as a reminder of the occasional discomfort.” Read on to see the books that have helped her rediscover her joy of reading (I’ve read two of them!).

Bridging two worlds

I love

Deenie Hartzog-Mislock

’s work, which always easy to read and shows honesty and vulnerability. This week she wrote about an amazing opportunity at a writer’s residency, where she was able to jet off to Vermont and write for two weeks, uninterrupted and be surrounded by fellow writers. It’s been a year since she went to this retreat and she gets real about how much progress she made on her book. Find out where she’s landed so far with her writing practice and go ahead and root her on in the comments.

The Point is Progress, Not Perfection