Help My Kid by Watching My Grandson Once a Week; Benefits Everyone

I spent years doing complicated reporting on natural disasters and violent crime as a journalist — but, these days, my biggest challenge is trying to make Ollie, my first grandchild, stop crying.

My son-in-law works full-time, so when my daughter returned to work after her maternity leave, they needed help looking after their 6-month-old son.

They arranged for part-time childcare in their neighborhood, and I offered to commute from New Jersey to their home in Brooklyn once a week to watch him.

Since my jobs are flexible and I don’t live too far away, I’m able to manage my own career while helping my daughter return to hers and save money on childcare.

Even better, the arrangement has become an incredible way for me to bond with my grandson and connect with our family’s roots.

I’m still able to work while bonding with my grandson

At 66, I still work as a documentary filmmaker and teach journalism at Montclair State University. On Tuesdays, I work remotely from my daughter’s place in Brooklyn to care for Ollie.

While my grandson naps or plays with his toys, I chat with students about production projects and email colleagues.

The best part of the arrangement is that it allows me to see Ollie more often, and I love being able to build a relationship with him in the place where my family has roots.

After all, the “grandpa name” I chose is “Poppa,” after my grandfather, who lived in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. Poppa — an immigrant with a thick Irish brogue and a strong work ethic — was extremely influential in my life, and I hope to have a similar impact on Ollie.

My grandfather worked until he was 70 and delivered beer from a brewery just a few miles from Ollie’s home. In many ways, being able to care for him in Brooklyn at my age feels like a full-circle moment.

The arrangement is a great way for me to bond with my family

I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly changing a diaper, burping, and putting an infant to sleep came back to me. I read him books, recently began feeding him cereal, and play with his toys.

We love sitting on the outdoor deck together, looking out at the Brooklyn skyline and hearing the sounds of the streets below. Whenever I get the chance, I talk to him about the fact that we’re both Brooklyn boys.

I’ve even found creative ways to help him settle down when he’s upset.

One day, when Ollie was crying, I played a song on my phone from my boomer youth: Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold.” As I sang along with each chorus, Ollie began to smile.

At the end of many of my days with my grandson, my wife sometimes joins us after work, and we all have dinner together. It’s a lot like the Sunday dinners I used to have at my grandfather’s house growing up — but without the Irish rebel songs.

As Ollie drifts to sleep at the end of a long day, I realize I’ll continue arranging my schedule so I can spend time with him in Brooklyn for as long as possible.

I look forward to one day telling him stories about his great-great-grandfather, my Poppa, and I’ll try to teach him the immigrant work ethic that helped build Brooklyn’s rich history.