The nanny's pursuing her PhD in late Victorian lit, and no one saw this melodrama coming?
Helaine Olen writes in Sunday's NYT about the increasing discomfort she felt as she read her nanny's blog. Mostly, it was of the self-pitying, "Oh, I used to be a trendy party girl, too, but now I have kids," variety, but then it got worse: "My husband thought her writing precociously talented but wanted to fire her nonetheless. 'This is inappropriate,' he said. 'We don't need to know that Jennifer Ehle makes her hot.'"
Well, they kept reading anyway, got all worked up, never talked to her about it--even when they're upset at their own cameo appearances--and then they dooced her, claiming other reasons. Oh, and then wrote a big Style Section piece about her a few months later. Talk about passive aggressive.
If your nanny has a blog, what's on it is fair game for discussion. And it's entirely appropriate to say, "Don't blog on the clock," and "Don't blog about work or my family." I mean, this whole thing reads like an overheated Victorian novel. I hope someone's getting class credit out of this.