The Nanny Life.
What better way to keep you young than to surround yourself with those that see the Magic in EVERYTHING!
Peter Pan you cheeky little boy, you’re on to a good thing!
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The Nanny Life.
What better way to keep you young than to surround yourself with those that see the Magic in EVERYTHING!
Peter Pan you cheeky little boy, you’re on to a good thing!
The kids and I went to the park the other day. We went for a little post-school playtime.
We were four instead of three because I’d brought along little Beansie, the family dog, for some much-needed run-around-in-circles-and-jump-up-and-down-like-a-crazy-dog time! We walked along side by side, holding hands and waving them above our heads. To the average peeping Tom in the bushes we must have looked kinda crazy but there was method to our madness. Rather impressed with myself, I’d remembered that there was a particularly savage group of little birds that liked to swoop down and clip your ears if you just so happened to walk within a 500m radius of their nests. Of course I knew this because I’d learnt the hard way a couple of mornings earlier. You would have thought they were protecting little golden eggs or something given their antics. Overreactive feisty little screeching so-and-so’s!
Waving our arms (me secretly enjoying the impromptu arm work out, be gone tuck-shop lady chicken wings) we successfully escaped the threat of imminent danger by fluttery fliers. Until Miss Charlie ran off into the playground, effectively disbanding our awesome foursome, that is. From that point, it was all out war. Poor little Beansie found herself caught in the middle of an open field, not knowing whether to sit very still and cower or run to take cover.
After several minutes of terror and a mix of jumping up and down and then hiding behind the pram, I decided that things had to get real. I began throwing my shoes at them. And surprise, surprise, my aim wasn’t that bad (thank you all those years of Netball). Note: this is perhaps the only time I would ever approve and partake in violence against animals. It was survival of the fittest.
As my rather stinky dark blue converse shoe made contact with a tiny little evil bird, sending it spiralling off into the distance, I felt as if I was in a real life game of Angry Birds. Yeah you know that slightly addictive game that has the most annoying yet catchy music ever?! That one.
ROUND 1 SCORES:
Nanny & kids: 1
Evil Tiny Birds: 0
I’ll keep you updated as we move up the levels and the seasons change.
Ha ha take that you pesky little so and so’s!
OK so we’re still working on the contented bit!
It’s been a week now since we started introducing solids to the little one, solids on more of a regular basis that is. It’s been one week of torture some could say. Well torture compared to the usual behaviour that I’ve grown accustomed to.
She turns six-months-old this week, my gosh she’s growing up so fast. Every milestone feels bitter-sweet. We’re so happy that she is reaching the all important developmental goals, but we both kind of wish she’d stay this little forever. I kind of wish she’d turn into a little Immortal Child like in Twilight. I talk about this here. Because you see, Little V is one amazing little baby, so happy and laid-back. She’s an absolute dream to look after. To be honest, caring for her as her second mum, she has spoilt me. I think I’m going to be in for a shock when I get around to having kids of my own one day. Mum (and probably Kevin too if you’re reading) you can start breathing again, that day is still a very long time away)!!
Despite how easy my little baby usually is, this week has been tough. Introducing solids as been an uphill battle. A very steep and rugged uphill battle. I know she’s ready for it, and we’re following the most amazing book ever. I was lucky enough to consult The Contented Little Baby Book of Weaning when I cared for my favourite little Zacetac, so it’s great to be able to do it again with little baby V. But let me tell you,
I’m fairly sure that more food has landed on the floor, on my clothes and in my hair, and all over V’s face, than in her mouth.
Cue very hungry, tired and grizzly little baby. All day. Oh and she’s teething… joy!
Source
I’ll tell you. It’s simple. Scientists may not know for sure. But I can tell you this:
As soon as I start reading aloud, I start yawning.
How is that? Why is that? Please someone explain this.
It doesn’t make any sense. It’s 7pm. I’m wide awake. I’ve got a mountain of things to do still. It’s the kiddies bedtime, not mine.
It’s really hard to make reading time work properly when I’ve got to interrupt each sentence to yawn, kind of doesn’t help the story line to flow all that well. Although, perhaps it’s a genius method to ensure the kids are following and not lolling off distracted (which will undoubtedly force me to read the same chapter again tomorrow night to “recap”). It makes the adventures of Captain Underpants slightly boring and turns the story of Cinderella into an epic-long tale.
The power of the yawn does many things to keep story time in business. In fact, perhaps the only thing my yawning doesn’t do, is make the kids yawn.. hmm and I thought yawning was supposed to be contagious!!
Gah, go to sleep already kids. Nanny was promised her peace and quiet. Ho hum.
At what age should children start having responsibilities?
When should they start having to do chores?
I grew up in a family that always had lots of chores. Partly it was considered a necessary attribute of character building, but primarily it was just part of the lifestyle. That’s the nature of living in the country; on the land, with the animals. There’s always a whole lot of work to do, and even if you get it done today, it’s going to need doing again tomorrow. Life keeps on moving, animals need feeding, pens need cleaning, grass needs to be cut, house tidied, pool cleaned, and fences fixed etc.
A horse or four, a dog, guinea-pigs, a rescued bird from time to time, a cow, maybe some chooks (“chickens” to all the city folk) and even a Nanny-goat. These were all great animals to play with and made for great pets over the years, but they also took work. Lots of hard, never-ending, unavoidable work. Such is the life.
The lesson we had to learn was that these jobs were essential to the lifestyle. Horses couldn’t just be left in the paddock all day with their rugs on in the summer heat just so that we could have a leisurely sleep-in and lounge around watching morning cartoons. We were taught that these things were all part and parcel of having the fun and games that came with the great outdoors.
My gosh did we have some fun and games, days and weeks spent exploring the mountains, building forts and playing epic battles of hide and seek that would span kilometres of countryside. Summers spent in the pool and kayaking down the river searching for platypus and turtles and hidden enclaves. Even with all of the chores, we still had so much fun – it was all about getting the balance right.
It’s because of my upbringing that I consider the role of “chores” to be important for children.
Others don’t always share this same perspective. I don’t necessarily think that this is a bad thing either. It’s good to bring two very different opinions to the table. Discuss them, argue your pros and cons and settle on a happy medium. Such is the way conversations generally go, and in my own humble opinion, the mark of fairly decent parenting.
As a nanny, I’ve been responsible for a number of children, both boys and girls of varying ages. From the very little to the old-enough-to-know-better. Having the majority of contact hours with these kids each day, I naturally take an active role in their development. And yep, you guessed it, chores and jobs rate quite favourably in my book.
I may not leave lists of never-ending jobs for the kids like my mum did for me (consequently I think this is where my fondness for list making arose – the satisfaction of being able to cross the items off the list after a productive day is a deep rooted joy rivalled by little else). But I certainly do impose and hold certain expectations of the kiddies.
Of course these expectations are age appropriate and set within the realms of reasonable ability. It would be crazy for me to expect Miss Charlie to put a load of laundry on at the end of the day, but I do consider her more than able to keep her bedroom neat and tidy; putting her rubbish in the bin and her dirty clothes in the basket.
Similarly, the older girls should be more than capable to tidy up after themselves, pack away their games and toys, keep themselves and their bedrooms tidy, to remember to feed their pets, to put their dirty dishes in the dishwasher (it’s not like I expect them to clean them, gosh no!). They could even take out the rubbish on occasion if they see that it’s full instead of just walking around it, (I mean really? Come on guys..).
I like to make chores fun. I turn them into games, and motivate the children by creating fun charts and offer rewards for timely completion. I don’t think these things are too much to ask for. Nor that I’m expecting too much of them. Nor do I think that they’ll miss out on too much precious “kid” time by fulfilling these expectations.
I do think however, that these duties will instil a sense of responsibility. A sense of purpose. An understanding of action, reaction; of effect and consequence. They should feel empowered, as though they can take matters into their own hands and feel achievement. No more of this sense of entitlement purely because we think we have an inane right.
>>> At what age do you think children should have this responsibility thrust upon them?