Nanny Life Articles by Hope at Nanny Shecando

School Yard Politics

The Mummy Snobs.

My important task yesterday was to go in search of some great new toys to keep Baby Viv entertained now that she’s becoming more and more active and engaged. Well, some more toys to make up for the rare times when I’m not throwing her around like an aeroplane and making her giggle that is. The two of us went off and popped into the shops to fulfil our duties. Now, I don’t really mean that we just popped in like it was nothing, in an out in a flash. Because anyone who’s had the pleasure of kids will know that when you’ve got a baby and a pram, the possibility of multiple trips back to the car to drop heavy items off and you’re arriving close to feed times, it’s going to be anything but quick.

Together we managed to find some great new toys – there may or may not have been this really awesome looking purple elephant with dangling thingy-bobbies (yes that’s a word, OK) that rattled and was so super cute that I almost got one for myself also. No really I promise, I’m not two-years-old, I’m twenty-TWO-years old… I even got Viv involved in the all important decision-making process. Each item was handed to her, anything that elicited a giggle and/or ended up in her mouth was appropriately vetted and deemed a winner!

Afterwards I needed energy to fuel my new title of heavily laden “pack-horse” so we stopped for coffee (and OK, guilty, it also became my substitute lunch. I’m defying the rules of The Summer Challenge. Naughty!) As we were waiting in line, I most surprisingly ran into one of the School Mums.

Ordinarily this wouldn’t have happened. Not because there aren’t any, or because there’s zero chance of us both frequenting the same places, but simply because most of the School Mums would not have made it possible for us to run into one another. That is to say, (most) of the School Mums seem to act as though I don’t exist. I am the invisible woman who drops off a child each morning and picks her up again each afternoon, complete with another child in tow. I’m also the invisible woman who just so happens to know the names of each of their children; their allergies, their food intolerances, their likes and dislikes and even the names of their imaginary friends. And yet, come 3pm pick up time, I’m the invisible woman whom you must not make eye contact with.

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So it was despite this (rather amusing) conundrum of school-yard politics that I was happy to have run into perhaps my one and only School Mum friend that I’ve successfully made. Like me, she also has a little one not much older than Baby Viv. Like me, she also has a vibrant and tenacious little girl in the same class as Miss Charlie. Like me, she is one of the last to arrive (frantically and rushed) at school each morning. And perhaps most significantly, like me, she seems not to pay mind to the fact that she is a “mum” and I’m a “nanny” and therefore in accordance to strict School Mum convention we must not associate.

We stopped and chatted over coffee, discussing the upcoming play that the girls were involved in, the extravagant plans for the Christmas concert that us “parents” are expected to help plan and joked that some day the school might lock the gate on us if we keep getting the kids to school after the first bell. That’ll teach ’em to dawdle at the pedestrian crossing!

I really enjoyed our shared coffee break. As a nanny, it can get a bit lonely at times. Whilst I absolutely adore Viv with the entirety of my heart (and the other kids of course!) their conversation can be lacking depth from time to time. Also, just an FYI, desperate conversations with the dog can be fairly one-sided too, just so you know. Given this, a little adult chit chat is very much welcome and appreciated and it was lovely to be able to lose myself for an hour or so in a tête à tête with someone over the age of 12. Shock horror I know.

Later, as I waited diligently for Miss Charlie to bounce down the footpath from her classroom, bidding au revoir to her teacher, I couldn’t help but wonder as to:

Why all of the other School Mums kept me on the outside?

Yes I know I’m (just) a nanny, quite a few years younger and that I don’t always share the same tendency to forego gym clothes and nikes for stilettos and designer sunglasses, but would it be so difficult to share a smile and make small talk? After all, I’ll likely be seeing you in a few short hours when I drop your kids home to you, kids who’ve been in my care, at (insert random sports practice) activity… Go figure.

Anyone else had to deal with the School Mum convention?

Conflict In The Nanny Workplace

(Conflict In The Nanny Workplace) Apologise and say sorry? But what happens when that doesn’t apply?

Contrary to the typical nanny cliché, it wasn’t between the Nanny and Boss Dad. Nor between Nanny and the kids. Not even between Nanny and a potential Helicopter Mum. Instead, the conflict had arisen between Nanny and the newly hired cleaning lady. And to clarify, from my perspective, it was very much the cleaning lady who had the issue. So what happens when there’s conflict in the nanny workplace?

The all important dynamic in our household had been uprooted, a dynamic that Boss Mum and I monitor and strive to maintain. Apparently, the cleaner thought it appropriate to muscle in on my job whilst neglecting her own duties. She wanted to express her opinions in regards to my ability to perform the role, and to express her own opinions as to the general running of the household and the children’s routines.

Needless to say, I wasn’t impressed, Viv wasn’t impressed, Miss 6 wasn’t impressed and most importantly, Boss Mum wasn’t happy. Long story short, this household is once again on the hunt for the perfect person to help me to keep the house in order so that I can focus on the (four!) kids. Crisis dodged.

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How To Negotiate Conflict In The Nanny Workplace

The recent conflict, I deem it a conflict when I find myself under interrogation and judged by my new colleague, got me to thinking.

1. What happens when you’re faced with conflict in the nanny workplace?

2. Just because a workplace is set in the home and not in a conventional office, does it make the conflict any different or any less crucial?

3. How should the nanny handle the situation to minimise the fallout?

I’ve always been a firm believer that we should pick our battles. That’s not to say that we should just step aside and let other people walk all over us. Simply that some times it really may not be worth it. At other times, times when we know that we’re not going to be able to live with the situation and that we shouldn’t be expected to, times when our carefully constructed code of morals and ethics are challenged, then it certainly calls for some conflict resolution management.

Conflict in the workplace can be stressful and unpleasant. In fact I find all types of conflict stressful and unpleasant. But hey, maybe that’s just me. Given that I hate (HATE) conflict and will go to extreme lengths to avoid it, I’ve had to learn the important and essentials skills to conflict resolution. I’ve also had to learn (at times through trial and error) how best to utilise them effectively. The key point to remember, and that holds me in good stead, is:

>>> Communication

Yep, that’s all there is to it. Of course there are different factors to consider, but when it comes down to the crux of it, communication is key. Calm, reasonable and coherent communication that is assertive and yet also conducive to a two-way exchange is the only method that’s going to achieve a positive result. As an aside, well honed listening skills also come in handy.

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As our rather trying week came to a close, I found myself longing for the weekend. I was envisaging two full days without kids and drama, plenty of quiet time and a chance to check in with the BF. But then I realised that this picture wasn’t right. Something was wrong here because that’s not me. I love my job and I love the kids. And whilst yes I love my weekends too, I never view them as my escape from reality. So instead I stopped to chat with Boss Mum and to check in with how we were all going. After a long chat over many cups of iced tea, interspersed with kid and baby chatter naturally, we reconnected and made sure we were back on the same page.

Crisis not averted, crisis overcome. Now that is an appropriate resolution. I even had the pleasure of Miss 6’s company chez moi for a Girls Night on Saturday evening. Even though I didn’t have an entire weekend away from kids and work, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Be sure when you step, step with care + great tact. Remember that life’s A Great Balancing Act. – Dr Seuss

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>>> Have you faced conflict in the nanny workplace?

Is the Tooth Fairy selective?

Outsmarting the Nanny. Again.

Charlie and I were chatting in the car yesterday en route to the shops. I’d brought her an apple to tide her over until we got to our destination which she was munching gingerly on – her first tooth is almost out. Yay! (She’s only the last one in her class to lose her baby teeth and has been waiting with not much patience for months now). She then asked me this gnarly question:

“Why doesn’t the Tooth Fairy come to adults?”

Stumped, I stalled for a couple of seconds, blabbering nonsense. How could I tactfully say that adults didn’t believe in the Tooth Fairy any more, so soon after I’d just successfully convinced her of their factual existence a few months prior!

Thankfully (or so I thought) Charlie jumped to my rescue:

“I know, of course, it’s obvious! Adults don’t lose their teeth!”

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Of course. You’re absolutely right Charlie. Why didn’t I think of that? There I was trying to be diplomatic and missing the glaring obvious.

Outsmarted again. Seems like a regular occurrence for me these days. Cheers Miss (smarty-pants) Charlie.

Kids These Days: A Contrast Of Values

I went to Grandparent’s day at Miss Charlie’s school last Friday. I went as the Nanny (which I guess is kind of like Nana) because her lovely grandparents are located on the other side of the country, tough break. The theme was “Tales Of Time Gone By”, a theme I guess I could cope with OK considering I had a very different upbringing and could therefore bring in the whole grandparent/different era element.

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Of course the kids were all a bit excited by the change of routine from the normal school day and on account of the fact that they’d all had late nights and consumed ridiculous amounts of chocolate and lollies for Halloween the night prior. The result of which meant that Friday was a complete write-off where school plans and prescribed learning outcomes were concerned.

Disclaimer: I don’t celebrate Halloween in Australia, nor do many people. For my reasons as to why I think it’s just a hyped up excuse to boost commercialism and generate revenue sales whilst piggy backing another country’s tradition, see this post THE REASON I HATE HALLOWEEN (IN AUSTRALIA). She captures my argument perfectly.

As we started to share our tales, I made sure to emphasise a few key points. Growing up:

I did not have an iPad and I could not simply amuse myself by playing games all day. Instead we read books and had to be self-sufficient where activity was needed. The outcome I suppose is that I never was bored. A concept that kids these days seem to be all too familiar with and look to the adults to occupy and amuse them.
I did not have a mobile phone. Well not until I was a teenager at least. And even then I shared one with my brother for the first few years. It was purely designed to keep us in contact with our parents during a long commute by bus to school each day.
I did not have my own computer or laptop, and certainly not hidden away in my bedroom. We shared a family computer, and that was pretty lucky. For a long time internet was of the ‘dial-up’ variety and extremely slow. Like, a snail’s pace slow, if not slower. Patience was practised and perfected this way.
Presents were few and far between, usually reserved for birthdays and Christmas. We made a list of all that we wanted, carefully constructed and remembered as the end of the year drew closer. We didn’t get a new toy every time were went shopping just because we really wanted it (what about all the other toys collecting dust in your bedroom that you discarded after the first day?) Also, we didn’t get presents on our siblings birthdays just so we wouldn’t feel left out. It was their day, get over it.
Pocket money meant accumulating silver coins for doing chores around the house, if you managed to save up to $5 you were doing well. You were encouraged to save it up for something special, lollies and cheap plastic toys were not considered worthy of your hard-earned pocket-money. It didn’t mean getting handed a $50 note each week for the sake of it.
Dinner was a family affair at the table. No TV. No eating alone in your bedroom. No individual dinner choices because you didn’t really like what everyone else was eating. It was very much, you eat what you’re given or you go straight to bed. Do not pass go, do not collect $100.
A family event meant donning your best attire, your best behaviour, your best manners and a sunny disposition. You didn’t get to stay home because you didn’t feel like going and you didn’t display a surly attitude once out in the open, and
School Holidays were the best times ever. They were glorious weeks spent exploring your house and neighbourhood, playing with the neighbours and inventing new games. They were not mandatory reasons for your family to whisk you away to a tropical destination and enrol you in kids club out of fear of you not having a good time.

Of course I had to stress these points, to emphasise the contrast in perspective and expectations. The contrast in values. After all, I had to give her the proper grandparent experience. It wouldn’t do any good to simply let her think that all of us grew up the way she is lucky enough to. She must learn to appreciate what she has. She must learn the value of things, to count herself fortunate and to take every opportunity as though it may not come around again. She must learn to be thankful.

As Grandparent’s Day came to a close I glanced around the room and as my eyes made contact with several other “oldies”, we all seemed to share a similar little grin. It seems a little camaraderie goes a long way, we’d all managed to convey a message to our little ones. Whether that message was truly received and processed, only time will tell. But for now,

The disillusionment of life as it seems was well on its way. Job done. How very cheeky of us.

Friendship From Pets Can Make You A Happier Person

Saying goodbye to the cats, the good vibes and quite possibly my chilled out mood.

For the most part of three weeks we have been cat-sitting two lovely little kitties. I’d not had much to do with them previously. Whenever I visited they were often hiding timidly under the lounge and only surfacing with the promise of kitchen tidbits and other treats. Despite this, I jumped at the idea to look after them, excited at the prospect of getting to bond with them and to have them eating out of the palm of my hand soon enough. I was over joyed at the prospect of having pets again – if only for a short period of time. Sadly we’re not allowed to have pets in our apartment (shh don’t tell my landlord that we just kind of pushed the boundaries on that rule).

I loved having the cats. I loved every single minute of it and had to tell myself very sternly that “no I could not cat-nap them into hiding” on the day they were due to be collected.

Now that they are gone, I know that I will not miss the abundance of cat hair that has found its way into every possible corner of the apartment. Ginger and brown hair that has infiltrated piles of neatly folded clothes in wardrobes, once clean and comfortable lounge chairs, neatly arranged bookshelves and tidy kitchen cupboards. Thanks guys, pretty sure cat hair covered clothes was not part of my desired fashion look.

I will not miss the 5.59am early morning wake up calls from a ginger cat purring as loud as a freight train into my ear and nudging my face. Morning guys, guess it’s breakfast time. You couldn’t have waited another half hour could you? That would have been much more considerate!

I will not miss having to hide all of my electronic cables for fear of them being chewed up and spat out during a middle of the night random cat adventure in search of mischief. Umm, it’s 3am kitties, why are you not sleeping?!

And I definitely will not miss the half hour of panic that I endured a few days ago when I thought I’d lost one of them. Panic coursed through me. In a moment of absentmindedness did I forget to close the balcony door behind me? Did I not notice one of them perched and ready to escape through the front door as I walked in? Frantically searching through a fairly compact two-bedroom apartment, looking into cupboards and under the couch and up high in the wardrobe shelves I wondered, “how could I have possibly lost one of them? There’s no more places to hide, he’s not in here. Seriously, where is that damned cat?! How is it that I’m perfectly capable of keeping four children safe and well but I fail at looking after a cat? And he’s my favourite too, why did it have to be this one.. Oh. my. god. the BF is going to kill me!”

Thankfully, after much calling and rattling of food I found him scratching to get out. He was hidden in a drawer under the bed having found his way into there and then climbed over the rails into the very middle of the bed on an exploration mission. That was a half hour I did not enjoy. I’m fairly sure my pulse is still not yet recovered.

What I will miss though is the companion and friendship that the cats provided. I will miss sharing my bed with two little curled up bundles of fur. I will miss the exchange in dialogue when they would come looking for me, miaowing to call out and say hello. I will miss having them sit patiently at my feet in the kitchen, praying that I take pity on them and share whatever I was cooking. And I definitely will miss coming home after a long day at work, either good or bad, and distracting myself with two little kitties. Feeling the tension and stress evaporate instantly as though it weren’t even there in the first place as I spent hours patting and cuddling and playing with them.

Because that’s the effect that the cats had on me. And that animals have on people when given half the chance. The love that pets provide goes way beyond that which can be measured. They’re calming and soothing. They can sense when you’re happy and when you’re sad. They’re partners in a life shared together.

I firmly believe that having a pet is a right of childhood, certainly pets played a pivotal role in my own. They’re not only warm and cuddly and provide interaction and entertainment, they can also significantly enhance the child’s developmental growth. For children who have pets, they not only provide wonderful opportunity to learn responsibility and other similar lessons, they also instil humility and respect and create emotional connections. Pets can be instrumental in teaching children first hand of the importance for compassion and understanding, of the necessity to put the needs of others before their own and of the power of a loving and stable environment. Of course we already know this, pets have been used as therapy for a long time now, helping those suffering anxiety, depression, PTSD and other emotional and life issues. Whilst this may not be at the forefront of your average child and their pet, the concept remains the same.

In my own humble opinion (disclaimer: I’m not an expert, merely a first hand observer with a keen penchant for formulating my own perspectives and then sharing them) the healing powers of animals and pets go well beyond the abilities of the pharmaceutical variety. The connection shared between animal and human, the mutual trust and bond created can be life changing. Even life affirming.