upstairs/downstairs

When we were younger and went to India, I always felt a little guilty. There were drivers to drive us around, women who made their livings cleaning our clothes, mopping the ever-present dust off the floors, and chopping our vegetables for dinner, and children who ran to the store to get whatever fruit was in season. In my head, I understood that my family was not taking advantage of anyone; everyone needs work and we pay them for their services. (My grandmother and aunts shared a cook, and over the years, she made enough to send all her kids to private school and build a house for her family in a good neighborhood.) Regardless, I still felt bad. It didn't seem right that we were being waiting on. What were we doing that was so important?

Cut to today, the day our nanny started (cue the singing angels). Rohan was in the best mood ever, fed, rested and thrilled to have a full-time playmate. In addition to a happy baby, the laundry was folded, the garbage was taken out, the dishes were all done, and the kitchen was wiped down. As soon as I became a full time working mom, I don't feel so guilty anymore. Go figure.

Although all this help comes with a hefty price tag, after working all day, coming home to a clean, chore-free house and happy baby really is priceless.