We have had the same babysitter since Luna was born. Rosanna would step in front of a train for Luna. She is not easily replaced. But when Luna was a baby, we figured we had options. There is a reason God gave us mothers, tias (aunties), abuelitas (grandmothers) and the occasional BFF you call "co-madre" regardless of whether they are actually your kid's godmother and hence your "co-mother." The problem is every Latina in New York works until death. There is no cotton-topped Grandma on standby sitting in her house-dress feeding chickens.  I don't think all Latinas are so overprotective of their kids. But this one is. Luna was just a baby the first time Rosanna went on vacation. I called my mother who lives in DC and laid on the guilt. I recited the CDC statistic that 1 in 4 girls is sexually abused before age 18 (it's all about sexual abuse with the Mamas). She hopped on a train and I left for work.  She called me an hour later with Telemundo blaring in the background. Luna had early pouty face. She must be malnourished by my lousy parenting and in need of chicken soup. I told my mother she drinks only breast milk and to look in the fridge. Luna began throwing up at 3 a.m. I called the pediatrician, who yelled through the speakerphone to call 911. "You ate soup when you were a week old," my mother admitted sheepishly.  Rosanna demanded to vet her next replacement. She hangs out with a legion of sitters representing all the nations of Central and South America, and they have their special ways. Children should be stuffed with comfort food; pock marked by lipstick kisses, wrinkled from hugging and rocking, and wear fuzzy socks because their feet can never be too warm. I'm not saying other ethnic groups don't coddle their kids, but Latinas just seem to excel at it.
We began breakfast one recent morning delivering this news to Luna: Rosanna, her caregiver, was going on a two-week vacation. "Who is going to take care of me?" she asked. And then she gave me "the...