The fifth wheel that smooths over the rough spots: a nanny

WHEN my husband and I began traveling with our firstborn, we were inevitably asked if we were “bringing the nanny with us.”

At first we thought this was a joke. Which part of a two-journalist household (read: financially challenged) did folks not understand? I soon realized that many families who are not Rothschilds have nannies and that most of them do not bear any resemblance to “Mary Poppins” or “Mrs. Doubtfire.”

Having chosen group day care over in-home help, I have little contact with the world of nannies, and the idea of taking one on a family trip seemed odd to me. First there was the expense and then there was the ethos: Wasn’t a nanny there to ensure the smooth running of the workweek? Wasn’t the point of a family vacation to spend time with the, um, family?

Then my children aged a year, going from 4 and 6 to 5 and 7. Forget about all the milestones the books tell you about; the biggest change between these two age groups is that where 4 and 6 live and let live, 5 and 7 divide and conquer. (My theory is they meet sometime after midnight to come up with new and absurd things to fight over. Also to work on their lung capacity and hammerlocks.) Oddly enough, this is just about the time that Mommy and Daddy decide that they are not getting out enough together. Call it the seven-year itch of parenting.

So when we started planning a three-week trip to Ireland, I began to experience qualms. As much as I was looking forward to spending more than 500 hours of unbroken time with my children, a little voice in the back of my head kept murmuring, “Wouldn’t it be nice if you could bring the nanny?”

Except that we still don’t have a nanny.

What we do have, however, is a niece. A lovely 20-year-old named Katie whom we don’t see nearly enough (she lives all the way in Orange County) and who had never been to Europe. And so a deal was struck: She would pay for her airline ticket, and we’d pay for everything else in exchange for “child care and light housekeeping duties.”

The kids were thrilled; Danny, perhaps the most social member of the family, loves to travel with friends and relations, and Fiona adores Katie with the ferocity only a 5-year-old girl can feel for a 20-year-old female cousin.

Before joining us in County Mayo, Katie and her Aunt Kay spent five days in Dublin. On the day we picked them up in Galway, Fiona leapt from my arms into Katie’s and stayed there the rest of the trip. For the first week and a half, she and Katie shared a room, and bedtime has never been easier. Only Katie could comb her hair, only Katie could choose her clothes, and if you think I experienced any maternal pangs of regret, you haven’t experienced the sheer relief that a full night’s sleep and a nag-free morning can bring.

Richard and I did get to spend some time alone -- we went out to dinner, heard some music -- but we also got to just sit down and read while Katie and the kids were outside playing blindman’s bluff or looking at the horses.

Those three little words, “I’ll take them” -- for half an hour, even for a few minutes here and there -- those little breaks infused my vacation with, well, vacation.

And it was great getting to know my niece better, spending time talking to her as we drove, showing her parts of Ireland we had visited before and discovering new ones as well. Several times, Katie and I went off to shop or hike or take a walk when no one else wanted to, and it was nice to have a little girl talk. With a big girl.

It helped that Katie was a good traveler -- low key, flexible, with good packing sense -- although it took some getting used to a 20-year-old’s sleeping habits. “How can she sleep so much?” Richard said, echoing no doubt his father’s comments, and my father’s comments, all those many years ago. She also did the dishes, every night, without being asked, providing, I think, a truly excellent role model for her young cousins.

But most important, she was a distraction. And I mean that in the best sense. We consider three weeks the optimum length of a European vacation; it gives everyone a chance to get over jet lag, become immersed in the customs of the country and generally unwind. But three weeks is a long time for a small family to spend on top of each other, even with loads of horses and castles. It was nice to have Katie and Kay there to add zest and balance to things.

To be savored, family time requires breaks, and not just for the parents; even the most affectionate siblings usually want to play with other children after a while. I understand now why other families I know take along their children’s friends, even on fairly expensive trips. The price of having another child to care for is more than balanced by the pressure it lifts from family bonds.

Of course, with Katie we had the best of both worlds -- an exciting, energetic novelty who also could make dinner without burning down the house.