A Nanny Diary

Do nannies get as much credit as they deserve?  

Screaming children, spewing babies, hours of Barney and dozens of dirty diapers are endured for endless hours every day.  The precious offspring of parents who still want to pursue careers are fed, sanitized and entertained by women (and the elusive male nannies) who are sometimes looked down upon.  They're known to rise with the sun (or a wailing child) and are susceptible to having their Saturday night stripped from their grasp, when mommy and daddy plead with them to let them have a date night. But the close bond most nannies develop with even the grossest and unruliest of kids make it hard for them to say no to working over time.  They can't refuse even when they start crossing into chef/maid/chauffeur territory, as mom asks her to whip up dinner, do all the laundry for the entire household and become designated carpool driver to half the neighborhood. Sometimes getting attached to the kids you're responsible for, makes you accept these sometimes crazy requests.

My own experience as a nanny has spanned for nearly a decade.  It started as an after school babysitter, spending most of our time playing every sport imaginable and doing countless hours of homework, but getting paid a less then desirable amount.  Between then and now, I've worked with some amazing families, with fun, cute kids and respectable parents who got to know me personally, rather than just as the girl who wipes their baby's butt.  I've also been employed by the rudest and most dysfunctional parents one can imagine, with demon-like kids who looked at me as more of a punching bag than an authoritative figure.  But I'd always go to work with a smile on my face, ready to face whatever the children or parents threw at me.  
Kids are puking and running temps?  I still show up.  
Daddy can't make the soccer game?  I'll stand in to cheer them on.  
Mom doesn't want to deal with Girl Scouts this week?  Lisa can take over.
Parents head to Greece for a week?  I'm sure Lisa won't mind living here for seven days.  

Dealing with babies can be brutal.  Having no adult contact all day and clothes stained with formula and snot make it difficult to stay sane, especially if you're working full time.  I incessantly hear Sesame Street songs playing in my head when I'm in class.  I randomly start talking baby talk to even my friends.  And worst of all, I'm haunted by that big purple dinosaur when I head to bed.  Some parents I work for will lead me to the brink of insanity, as they add dog-walker, kitty-litter cleaner, dishwasher and play-date organizer to my regime, but suspiciously forget to add on compensation for it.

So why take the abuse? There's not many jobs I can think of that when you walk in the door, a smiling face rushes towards you with arms open, insanely happy that you're there.  When they make a drawing of a bunch of scribbles and proclaim that they worked so hard on it for you.  That they learn and remeber something new that you taught them.  And that they scream and cry and stay plastered to your leg when it's time for you to leave at the end of the day.  

To know that you've made a difference in the development and happiness of this little person, is enough to make anyone want to be a nanny.  Boogers and all.