Nanny travails

So now I'm trying to wean little Ms R onto a maid, brought in for the purpose of catering exclusively to R. Of course, as luck and fate have it, she hates the sight of her maid, preferring to smile toothlessly at the cook and other help, completely ignoring her own nanny. Maybe because she reads the sweetly-false voice of her nanny too well? Or maybe because it's an unfamiliar hand over her mom's- which she's had sole right to, for the past eight months? So it's back to rocking till my back feels numb, losing whatever vestige of sleep creeps in at odd hours, yet being thankful for her in my life.