Christmas in July

Dear Mrs. So-and-So:
Though it may not seem like it now, summer is coming. Where we live, it seems we only have 2 seasons- winter and summer, but I can only assume you prefer the former. I am under this assumption because during our insanely hot season it is commonplace for me to walk into your home and feel the need to put on a coat and wrap up in a blanket because you keep your home so cold. I have actually had to bring a sweatshirt with me to work to survive the frigid conditions, which is ridiculous since it is 95 degrees outside! I only mention this because at the rate you pay me, I can't afford health insurance and another summer full of frost-bite-related doctor bills is not something I can financially handle. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for air-conditioning, but if I wanted to work in an igloo I would move to Alaska.
Sincerely,
Mary

P.S. Please don't walk into a room I am in and turn off the light whilst complaining about how it is the source of your high electric bill. Perhaps your frost-covered AC system set to sub-zero temperatures has something to do with it.... I hope this helps.

I'm Number One!

A toddler I cared for asked me to sing him songs one day. I started to sing, and after each song he would say "one more!" This went on for awhile, to the point I was running out of songs. I told him that he would get 3 more songs, and to count them as I sang them. He said OK, and held up 3 fingers. As I finished each song, he would put a finger down, which was great, since I could tell he was grasping the counting concept. In the middle of my third and final song, I looked over at his little hand, which had one final finger remaining in the "up" position. I did my best, but I ended up lauging. Instead of having his pointer finger raised as most of us would do when counting down, the last finger standing was his middle. I'm sorry, but it looked like the kid was flicking me off! He asked me "Maaaaary, what's so funny?" in his cute little voice, laughing along with me but not knowing why. I sidetracked the question, and told him in a serious but not stern voice "Honey, when you are you counting the number 1, you should use this finger, not that one." and helped him figure it out. I thought I handled it well. I didn't say the middle finger was "bad", or "wrong", because that would have opened the door for him to ask "why?", at which point thoughts of teaching him about road rage might have entered my mind. Good job, "Number One Nanny" ! :)

Let's start at the very beginning... (oh wait, that's the wrong Julie Andrews movie...) ;)

For my first post focusing on my actual experiences working as a nanny, it only seems logical to tell the tale of how I found myself applying for such a position in the first place.

In all honesty, I took the job out of desperation. I was around 20 years old at the time, and had recently moved in with my boyfriend. Things were tense between he and I, and a large part of that tension was due to the fact I had yet to find suitable employment in my new city. Bills were past due, debt collectors were calling me incessantly, and overall I was miserable. I was depressed. Moving in with said-boyfriend was not turning into the fairy-tale game of “house” that I had thought it would be. I was half-heartedly looking for a job, but I didn’t want to work in retail again, as I had just left such a position in my old town and did not wish to return to another job full of mind-numbing drudgery and humiliation. (By humiliation, I mean the volunteering of myself to be the recipient of insults and screaming when certain customers didn’t receive the extra 10% off the merchandise they felt they were entitled to, but hey, that is a blog all it’s own.) We were living in a college town, and it seemed like the pickings were slim when it came to non-retail jobs. I needed a job, and I needed it NOW.

One morning I was frantically scanning the classifieds section of the newspaper when I came across the Childcare listings. The ad my eyes fell upon went something like this: PROFESSOINAL FAMILY IS SEEKING TO EMPLOY A NANNY. WOULD BE RESPONSIBLE FOR 2 CHILDREN 40+ HOURS/WEEK. MUST HAVE VALID DRIVERS LISENCE. PLEASE RESPOND TO 555-0000, ASK FOR MISSY. All of a sudden, I was filled with hope. Be a nanny? I could do that! I had been babysitting since I was 12, had never had anyone complain about my services, in fact, I was always praised for my reliability and creativeness. Surely I could handle doing it as a full-time job! The more I thought it over, the more excited I got. This seemed to be the answer to my prayers! I called my boyfriend at work, giddy with anticipation. He told me to get off the phone and call the number, as I had mentioned the cut-off date to apply was today. I did as I was told, and dialed.

As per the ad‘s instructions, I asked to speak with Missy, assuming this would be the mother. It turns out, I was wrong. Missy was actually the family’s housekeeper, and by “housekeeper” I don’t mean a woman who came in once a week to do scrub the floors and toilets. By “housekeeper“, I mean a full-time employee who spent 40+ hours a week running the household. She cleaned, did the laundry, did the grocery shopping, had a home cooked meal waiting for the parents on the table when they got home, etc. But, I am getting ahead of myself here… Missy informed me that in order to apply, I would need to fax a copy of my resumé and a cover letter to the house. I assured her I would, said my goodbyes, and hung up. Then the realization that I did not currently have an up-to-date resumé , nor a fax machine, hit me.

I frantically typed up my resumé , trying to make myself sound as qualified as possible without actually lying in the document, and moved on to the no-fax-machine situation. I remembered that a friend of ours who lived in the apartment complex worked in the computer field, so I headed over there to see if they had one I could use. Luckily they did, and the friend’s wife (whom I had actually never met face to face at that point) was nice enough to let me use it. Phew! I could sit back, relax, and wait. Or really, just wait, because I found that the tension involved with waiting to hear back from the family about an interview was anything but relaxing…

Mary Poppins I am NOT...

However, for the sake of this blog , (and my source of income) I will be assuming her identity, or at least her name. Names will be changed, as will places and other details that might give away my true identity. At times I may seem angry, probably because I am! I have a right to be angry, depressed, bored, or any other emotion with negative connotation naturally felt in the human species. Just because I am a nanny doesn’t mean I am a robot, always smiling and cheerful despite the chaos that may be unfolding all around me. Nannies have bad days too!

This blog will not be a shrine to the children I am entrusted to care for, full of sunshine and puppies; stories about how dear little Preston made the most adorable drawing of he and I holding hands today. Nor will it be a scandalous “tell-all” reeking of pervert dads and alcoholic moms. No, this blog will be MY true story. (Or as true as I can make it while protecting the identities of the families mentioned in my writings/and or ramblings, as well as my own job security.)

We have all heard tales of nannies being “let go” due to their blog being discovered by their employers. I’m sorry, but what would be the point in writing about it if I had to be censored by my own fear that one day Mrs. So-and-so might stumble upon it and not like the mirror I have held up to her face? I will not allow myself to be censored by anyone, in any way, and I feel that I am being more than fair to the families and to myself in the way I am choosing to conduct this blog.

My final thought for this first post will be this- I in no way consider myself to be a writer, nor do I aspire to be one. I am a nanny. If you feel my posts are lacking in literary or even grammatical finesse, please move on. I am not here to “wow” you with my blogging prowess. I am here to tell it like it is. The good, the bad, and the ugly.