Real Life Nanny Diaries

I nannied and watched children all through my high school and college years. And I learned more from watching other people’s children then I ever did sitting in class room.  Over the years I have cared children of close to fifty different families. Now with some of these families I only cared for their children a handful of times, but for a lot of the families, I was a repeat caregiver for at least a period of months.

I think there is nothing wrong with hiring a nanny. In fact, if you research and find a nanny you can trust, it is probably a better option than traditional daycare. But it amazes me how slack some families are at choosing the person who is solely responsible for the welfare of their children while they are away.

These are some of my favorite things parents overlook:

1. References. I could tell you I was freaking Mary Poppins, and every child I ever watched had the best time, and you would never know if I was telling the truth or not unless you spoke with my references. You have to call a potential nanny’s references so that you can find out why they left, if there were any red flags, and what their general childcare philosophy and tactics are.  A strict nanny does not mix well with more laid back parents.
2. Background check. Again, I could tell you I was Mary Poppins and you would have no way of proving I wasn’t unless you ran a background check on me. Sure I am lovely and charming and play great with the kids. But you find out I have 2 DUIS, identity fraud and burglary. Still want me watching you kids? Fifteen dollars helps filter who watches your kids and helps prevent headaches and heartbreaks.
3. Experience. You can’t hire someone to be a nanny for your four kids when they have never worked around kids and are only doing this because they think it is easy money. Caring for infants and young children is especially taxing and requires skill and patience. Leaving your baby with someone who has never changed a diaper, much less gotten CPR certified is asking for an accident.
4. Bad habits. You overlook smoke on a nanny’s clothes because she is a bargain, or because she always shows up on time and never calls out sick. But, is it worth the fact that she might be smoking around your kids? 

 

I also have some favorites about the things the parents do. Most of the time the kids are cute and sweet and actually are fun to be around. It is the parents that are a nightmare.

 

1. Leave memorabilia  around or proudly showcase your weird sexual exploits. I don’t want to know how many or how often you have visitors in your bedroom. Last time I checked this isn’t a completion. And if you are over 40 and can’t count the number of sexual partners you have had in the past year on two hands, you might need help. Sex is addiction too.
2. Try to discretely hide their drinking. Oh no Mr. Smith, I totally put Vodka in my coffee too. But I only do it on Mondays and it is just a splash, so I can’t be intoxicated. And the parents how obviously arrive home drunk and you realize they drove that way. There is nothing cute about asking your college age babysitter to put you to bed because you drank too much.
3. Call in sick to work because your life is just so stressful. And then ask me to keep the kids quiet and confined to one room because you just need to rest. You then wonder why your boss is questioning you commitment to your job, and you bemoan how you never have enough money because you shop like the malls might close tomorrow forever.
4. Involve me in your “I have my ex” tirade. I am sorry you married an asshole/bitch the first time around. But I don’t have much sympathy for you if you make every person in a 100 mile radius aware of you ex’s shortcomings. I actually probably end pitying your ex and thinking you are a moron. Facebook is not the place to point out the flaws in someone’s character. And since you are the one who married them, it kind of makes you look like a jackass too.
5. Take 3 hour lunch breaks so you can go shopping with your friends, and then call me and tell me you are working till 8. News flash, your kids are sick of me putting them to bed.
6. Feed your kids nothing but junk food and then wonder why they are overweight and can’t concentrate in school.  No it is completely normal to give your kids poptarts and fruit roll ups every morning for breakfast.
7. When you child breaks his third IPod in six months, it is probably time to stop buying him toys on demand.
8. Allowing your young daughter to dress like a whore. A ten year old does not need to wear pants with the word “sexy” written on the ass. She should not be wearing a bathing suit top that is padded to make her look more grown up. And she should not be wearing a skirt that shows her rear end every time she bends over.
9. Hiring me to watch your child while you “work” from home. Sorry moms and dads, but having a nanny while you work from home is extremely difficult. First of all, unless your house is huge, the nanny and child will have to be confined to a small section of the house to keep from disturbing you, or you will have to kick the nanny and child out of the house while you are on important conference calls etc. This is hardly fair to the child. Also, most children want to be with their parents if their parents are at home, so you are asking for some tears and temper tantrums. If you are going to work from home, send your child to daycare. Or work in the garage.

 

Most of the time I really enjoyed caring for the children I watched. And of course I had a few favorites.  I can honestly say that nannying is my favorite job. I love the variety in my day to day routine and I love interacting with children. It is probably the least cynical job I will ever have. If only there was a way to avoid dealing with the problem parents.

 

 

Hey Baby They are Playing Our Song

Music is such a big part of my life that I have a soundtrack I associate with every major event that happens in my life. I also have music for every possible mood. So I want to list the songs that are on my Ipod in the summer of 2011, so that I will forever associate these songs with my engagement.

1. Racks – Young Chris
2. You and I – Lady Gaga
3. Just a kiss- Lady Antebellum
4. Don’t want to Go Home – Jason Derulo
5. Homeboy – Eric Church
6. How to Love – Lil Wayne
7. Novacane – Frank Ocean
8. Booty Work – Tpain
9. Bad Meets Evil – Bruno Mars
10. Stereo Love- Gym Class Heroes
11. Love Done Gone – Billy Currington
12. Super Bass – Nicki Minaj
13. If Heaven wasn’t so far away – Justin Moore
14. Dirt Road Anthem – Jason Aldean
15. Country Boy’s World – Jason Aldean
16. Bring it Back – Travis Porter
17. Are you going to Kiss Me or Not – Thompson Square
18. When I am Gone – Wiz Kahlifa

 

I am in such a daze planning for my wedding that I don’t want to look back and not remember what songs were important to me the summer I got engaged.  And by important to me, I mean songs that I sang with every time they came on the radio much to the annoyance of my  companions.

Torture by Visine

Clint went to the eye doctor a couple of weeks ago, and they gave him some much needed eye drops. He had been complaining that his eyes itched and he would rub them so much he looked like he was more baked then a twice baked potato.  But since it took six months to get around to going to the doctor, it will take him another six months to get around to getting the prescription filled. In the we go to Target and get some regular eye drops to help in the meantime.

Now eye drops are not really interesting or exciting or humorous. But trying to put them in a grown man’s eyes when he is emphatic about you not putting them in his eyes is hilarious. During the struggle that occurs, I have to keep stopping to clench my legs together to keep from literately peeing with laughter.

I get Clint to sit down at the table, and tilt his head back. As I approach his eye with the dropper, he starts freaking out. He is blinking his eyes like an owl on acid and is squirming away from my touch. Every time I put my hand on his forehead he moves.  I successfully manage to get one drop in his left eye but as soon as the drop touches his eye, he is howling with pain. He immediately rubs his eye to get drop out. This of course negates the whole purpose.  Clint retreats to the kitchen where he rubs his eye while he sulks at me for “hurting” him.  Nothing says mature like a full grown 31 year old man rubbing his eyes and cowering in a corner of the kitchen.

I have to pull him out of the corner and I decide that this whole process would be much easier if I could just sit on him. So I convince Clint to lay down on the floor in the living room and I sit on top of him, straddling his shoulders. Now, this position is awkward and uncomfortable but it probably super entertaining for anyone looking in our living room right now.  I have to keep Clint still by squeezing his shoulders with my knees and I have to hold his face still by squeezing it between my elbows. While doing all of this, I also have to somehow manage to get the eye drops into his eyes.  I proceed to attempt to place the eye drops in his eyes all the while laughing hysterically at his frantic attempts to remove me from imprisoning him.

I am finally successful and by this point both of us have tears rolling down our cheeks. Me from laughing, and Clint from me “torturing” him.  I took this time to compose myself. But the sight of a grown man cowering from an eye dropper will be with me for a long time.

 This is a picture of what Clint should truly be afraid of - me when I am bored.

Where is the volume control?

 Clint is a good man. I know I am lucky. But sometimes I want to shake him and ask the higher powers what I did to deserve this. Clint is a very intelligent man. So when he does something that seems stupid for lack of a better word, it infuriates me to no end. Clint is very rational and meticulous but when he gets frustrated or upset he loses his cool. I then of course lose my cool. And we look like a couple of bickering five year olds. You know the classic “Stop touching me. Mom – he’s touching me!” This is obviously not our finest moment, but what can you do? Both of us are too proud to back down and saying “I’m sorry” is like being forced o swallow the worst medicine ever.

So one warm and toasty Sunday, Clint and I go shopping with my girl friend and her kids. Now, before you think I have lost my mind to voluntarily go shopping with two kids, there is a method to my madness.  I want Clint to see how having children changes your life. We are very spoiled right now, because we are able to do whatever we want, whenever we want. And honestly I enjoy that. I know Clint wants a family and a chance to be a father, but I want him to realize the logistics of day to day life that become necessary after having children.

Here I am holding a six month old infant in Brooks Brothers while Clint it looking at ties to add to his collection. I have been holding this baby for the past thirty minutes and my arms are tired. I take Clint’s tie shopping opportunity as a chance to position the baby in the stroller so my arms can recover. However as I am placing the baby in the stroller, he starts wailing. I can’t blame him. Why would he want to leave the warm security of my arms for an uncomfortable, cold stroller. While I am trying to strap a squirming, screaming baby, Clint bolts out of the store. Thirty seconds after I get the stroller moving, the crying stops. But Clint is already standing outside.

During the chaos of rearranging the baby, Clint decided that the best course of action would be for him to vacate the store. The crying baby hurt his ears. I took this opportunity to inform him that if he wants his own children, his ears are going to be doing a lot of hurting because babies cry and there is nothing you can do about it. I was also curious as to how Clint walking out of the store solved the crying problem. He carried himself, not the baby out of the store. So all the other patrons still had to listen to the baby. And he did not offer to help me soothe the baby. Instead he just vacated the premises. Leaving me to soothe and position a screaming infant. And all I can say is I am not a fool, so I will be having no babies of my own until Clint can accept a baby’s cries as natural.

I was pissed at the time, but looking back it was hilarious. My fiancé who calms and soothes his clients all the time, loses his cool around a six month old infant. Now, personally I would be more scared of a 45 year old man, but I guess that adult men are just babies trapped in a man’s body.

Our story.

Our Story.

I think a couple of sales guys in SAKS summed it up best. “We always see you together. You two belong together. I can’t imagine seeing one of you without the other.” They made this remark because every time we walk through SAKS, we are together. We never go in there by ourselves. It is not intentional. But we go to that mall to window shop and stroll, and it more fun to do that together.

But the take home point from that, is that in my opinion, you have to realize that you are in this thing together as partners, as a pair, to have a successful marriage. So when Clint asked me to marry him, of course I said yes. Do we bicker? Only five times a day. Do we get on each other’s nerves? See the first answer.  Do we say hurtful things sometimes? Of course, we are human. Are we always there for each other? Yes, no matter what. We don’t keep tally of a tit for a tat. Since you didn’t pick up the phone earlier, I am not going to pick it up now. We just simply always do what we can to provide support for the other person.

So after five long years Clint finally stops eluding commitment.  About damn time.   But you know what they say, you can lead a horse to water but sure can’t make them drink. However age finally caught up with Clint and he realized that if he didn’t come to his senses and make a proper woman of me, he might be left all alone. And when you hair line is decreasing and your pants size is increasing, you can’t exactly jump back out of the dating scene. So Clint decided to propose.

So when we decided to buy an engagement ring. I wanted to pick it out. I figured I knew what I wanted, so I would be happy. Of course I would only buy a ring that I could look at for the next fifty years. But then reality set in. Diamond shopping is exhausting. There are so many variables it will make your head spin. This is probably why I never advanced much beyond Algebra II. Give me more than two variables and you have lost me.

So I finally decide to buy this ring. And I get it. And I hate it. The more I look at it, the more I start finding things I don’t like. I try to convince myself that I just have to get used to the ring. It will grow on me. I don’t want to admit defeat. I don’t want to have to tell Clint that I don’t know jack about picking out diamonds. But I get so upset that I tell him I want to send it back. Even though I am not looking at him, I can feel him rolling his eyes.  I know he is thinking most people who make sure that this absolutely the diamond they want before they would commit to buying it. But not me. I got caught up in something only to realize I hate it.

After I tearfully explained to Clint that I absolutely hate this ring and can’t fathom looking at it for the next fifty years.  We knew we had to come up with a new solution. We found a woman who was wonderful at making us a custom ring. She understand exactly how I wanted my ring to look and she stayed within our budget. That was really the big seller. Start talking about dollars and Clint’s eyes light up. He is always saying how he wants me to get whatever will make me happy, but in reality he means whatever will make me happy without  breaking the bank.  He would agree that a five carat rock would look nice on my finger, but he doesn’t want to work for the next 80 years to pay for it.

Clint handled the final details of my ring, and kept everything a secret from me. He wouldn’t tell me when he was going to pick it up, or where he was going to hide it. I “re-arranged” (read this as tore apart) our bedroom several times in a frenzied attempt to find his superb hiding spot, but I was unsuccessful. I still don’t know where he hid it. All I know is that when I do figure it out, I will  be hitting the jackpot, because that is where he hides all my presents.

I honestly expected Clint to propose on a weekend and do it sometime in the evening. I kept waiting, and waiting and waiting. I dropped subtle hints. And not so subtle hints. And I flat out threatened him.  However none of these tactics worked. Clint still moved at his own infuriating slow pace. He has his own time line, and he does things when he wants, how he wants.  So, imagine my surprise when on a Wednesday at the end of June he asks me to marry him.

He called me at work to tell me that he was going o have to work into dinner so he was just going to leave work around 6 and head home instead of working out and then going back to the office. I honestly thought nothing of this. Clint does this all the time. If he has to call a client right at five, he will just come home after he gets done and stay home to spend time with me. So  I head home and make a boring hum drum dinner. Clint comes home and I rattle on about my day at work. During this whole time, I have forgotten that today is our five year anniversary. I am honestly worse than a guy when it comes to the “little” holidays. I plan for Christmas all year round. I start buying and stashing gifts in March. But when it comes to birthdays, anniversaries etc., I just put them on the back burner and end up forgetting about them. Not Clint. He is a meticulous planner. So he of course had a plan for our engagement.

After dinner we were going to walk around U of R. Again, nothing out of the ordinary here. We usually walk after dinner a few times a week, and sometimes we go to places like U of R to spice it up. Now where I should have gotten tipped off, was when he decided not to wear actual work out clothes. When Clint and I walk together he usually sweats like a pig, so workout clothes are a must. But I was so tired, I figured this was just going to be a leisurely stroll and I was grateful for the reprieve.

We get to U of R and we begin our usual stroll through the campus. It is quiet since most of the students are back at home, and I was more focused on the gangly teenage ducks then on the surroundings. I was intent on trying to catch one and hold it, until I realized that the ducks reaction to fear is a violent explosion on poop. Uh yeah. There went my love of ducks. I love animals – but only when they are excrement free.

So we stroll into the Gazebo and this is where you go to steal a kiss or ask a girl to marry you. Now this should have been a major red flag because usually I have to drag Clinton into this Gazebo and this time he went willingly. He gave me a couple of kisses and then I watched the ducks paddle in the water. When I turned back around he was down on one knee, telling me that he loved me and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. I started crying. But of course I said yes.

The proposal suited me perfectly. It was low key, no crowds and loving. Clint and I have had a wild five years .A lot of good times, a lot of bad times .And times where you laugh and cry at the same time. But through it all, he has walked right beside me and I know he will continue to stand by my side during our marriage.