This is the third of these. What it is and the rules are here.
I’m sitting in a house that is finally, fully put back together. Six months of emptied closets, cabinets laying about, construction dust and piles I had apparently stopped seeing: done. And somewhere between hanging things on walls and folding laundry I have not personally folded in two years, I decided it was time to say goodbye to our incredible nanny/house manager.
I got jealous of my own nanny.
We’ll get to it.
Same deal as always. What I did, made, paid for, and broke. What I’m into, what I’m not. No affiliate links, nothing in here pays me. If you love it, tell me. If you never open it, tell me that too.
Quick housekeeping. In July I made a rule that this ships the last Sunday of the month. Then we started Sabbath-ish, a no-plans, no-screens family day two Sundays a month, and this week I caught myself sitting there stressed about not sending the newsletter on the day I had specifically designated for not doing things. So I changed the rule. Play by Play now lands the last week of the month. (More on Sabbath-ish here.)
Here’s September.
1. Damn picture frames. I have wanted a collage photo wall down our basement stairway for, well, four years. My mom had frames marching down the stairs of the house I grew up in, so this is not an original idea. Three years ago I hung six pictures and stalled, the way you stall when you want to do something properly (and then don’t do it at all). cute thrifted frames. Different sizes. The perfect collected-over-time wall that I was, of course, actively trying to manufacture.
So this month I gave up on the perfect vision and phase two involved painter’s tape, old photos, drawings, postcards and things laying around in junk drawers. I’ll admit it looks a bit like something Lizzie McGuire would have had over her bed. BUT, the kids love it. Guests stop halfway down the stairs and giggle. I keep stopping too. And it is giving me much more joy than the polished version that has existed exclusively in my head for four years.
Same disease, different symptom. Two years ago I thrifted a gorgeous one-of-a-kind Sally King Benedict silk scarf for $200 and put it in storage while I waited to find the “right” frame, presumably through osmosis. This month I gave myself 15 minutes to buy the best one I could find. Etsy, $104.61. It arrived. Plexiglass. Not glass. Plexiglass. It said so in the fine print I did not read. Whatever. It’s on the wall.
2. I’m winding down our full-time nanny after two and a half years. That’s roughly $50,000 a year back. She came to us when I was still in my corporate job, with a four-month-old Dottie. She was here when I left that job, through Dottie’s heart surgery and after, and when both kids started school I did something I thought was clever: I optimized. Her job grew from nanny to nanny + house manager + business assistant. Laundry, vacuuming, dishwasher, dinner, school lunches, the event calendar, the directory, whatever I was working on. All the small stuff disappeared into the background so my hours could go toward the things only I could do.
The math was simple. I valued my time at $250 an hour. Loading the dishwasher did not clear the bar. Neither did packing a lunch. Every little thing got measured against that number, and every little thing lost.
Then lately I’d start resetting the kitchen before she arrived and make myself stop. I’d fold laundry with the kids and think, no, she’ll do it tomorrow. I wanted to reorganize the pantry myself instead of explaining how I wanted it done. More than anything, I wanted school pickup back. I got jealous of my own nanny, which is an absurd sentence to type about someone I adore and who has been wonderful to our family.
I had built a life where the person I paid got a lot of the ordinary parts of it, and it turns out I like some of the ordinary parts. Pickup. Making dinner. Folding laundry with a podcast on. Being the person who makes the rituals and the tiny bits of magic. My kids are five and two-and-a-half. I want this stretch.
She’s still here until her new job starts. So check in with me in two months, when all of it is mine. God, I will probably tell you I hate the laundry.
3. So this season I’m measuring growth, not money. I’ve spent a year and a half doing what I call “playing around”: this newsletter, social media, a women’s business cohort, the local directory and event calendar, sponsorships, online workshops, an in person event, 1:1 coaching. Somewhere around April I got very hung up on the idea that I needed a Core Product. Capital C, capital P. The Thing I’m known for that also, ideally, makes money.
I ran a bunch of experiments trying to find it and eventually realized something annoyingly simple: right now, I don’t think I can focus equally on audience growth and making money. Or at least I haven’t figured out how to do both well yet. So for this next season, I’m picking one.
Growth.
I can't wait to hear how the nanny thing goes. I cannot wait to hear what shows up for you when you end that relationship! I can relate.
"My brain is quiet in here" is a priceless experience. 🤌