Mutual Agreement

Kids fight. If you don't believe me, you've obviously not spent much time around kids. If you have more than one child under your care, whether you're a nanny, a parent, or just someone who has ever taken care of kids, you will undoubtedly run into nasty disagreements. Otherwise known as arguments.
When I was a kid, growing up with five siblings, we often tried to get away with disagreements by calling them 'debates'. We thought that perhaps a more intelligent sounding name would make up for the nastiness of our fights. Not so. In fact, I think it just served to exasperate my mother more.
Cries of "I'm telling!" and "He started it!" often rang out and the thing we hated most from our mother was for her to say, "I'm not your referee; figure it out on your own." We hated this most because we thought that we'd come to the point where there was no figuring it out on our own. The other person was not to be reasoned with and we needed intervention.
Looking back, I think she was right. In fact, it was only last week that I heard myself saying to Sierra, as she ran to me with cries about her brother's non-sharing habits, "Go back and figure it out with Ryan."

Life Lesson #8: Kids can solve problems without the presence of a referee.

She pouted, and I was reminded of myself.
So what's right? When is it time for me to tell them to figure it out, and when is it time for me to step in?
Obviously, when physical harm is involved, it's time for an authority to take over and mete out punishment. Most times, however, I find that the situation will diffuse on it's own, if the kids are left to themselves. In fact, when Sierra or Ryan have friends over, I prefer to not even be with them. They play so much nicer together when I'm not in the room. Why? Because they're learning to figure it out for themselves. One day they'll appreciate it.

Winter Show

Today was Sierra's first grade winter show at school. It happened to be in the afternoon, and on the same day of the week that Ryan goes to preschool. He goes two afternoons a week.
Upon hearing it was in the afternoon, he became distraught at the thought of missing it. Many tears were shed before deciding he would just be pulled out of his class for the 45 minute show.
The morning wore away, and soon it was time to pack up the two youngest to take Ryan off to class. Eva was happily bundled up to her teeth, and Ryan donned his coat and gloves.

Life Lesson #12: Gloves can not be put on a preschooler in a rush.

We headed out to door and made the ten minute trek to school. By the time we got there, Eva was conked out in the back seat. The thought of just leaving her in the car flashed through my brain but I am happy to say it flashed out again faster than it had flashed in. Toting a sleeping 19 month old through the halls of school, while trying to hang on to an excited four year old is not an easy feat to accomplish.
By the time we had that done, I realized there were a couple things I'd left at the house that I really should have before returning to the school for the one thirty show. I raced back to the house, left the sleeping baby in her car-seat in the garage while I ran upstairs to grab an extra bottle and the diaper bag, then it was back to the school to get a good seat in the gymnasium before the show. Mama arrived in time, and went down to Ryan's class to fetch him. He, however, had decided it was not in his best interest to leave class just then, seeing as snack time had been about to commence, and so his mood was less than happy.
Very soon, Sierra's class filed in, along with sixty-leven hundred other kids, and Ryan's mood brightened. Plus, several of the songs sung were familiar to him. Eva was, by now, awake, and she happily clapped in time to the music.
The show was soon over, Ryan was deposited back in his class in time for snack, and Sierra and I tried to figure out what to do.
She had been let out early; as soon as her show was over. It was only forty-five minutes until Ryan was out of class, and we didn't want to go back home. So we hung out in the hallway and read books and tried to keep Eva from hiding in the stairwell and climbing the stairs.

Life Lesson #48: Toddlers like to climb.

The afternoon and evening wore on. I worked late today, since Mama and Dad were going out to a Christmas party. This, of course, called for pizza, a movie, and popcorn. Ryan refused to fall asleep without Mama present, but Eva and Sierra had no such compunctions and fell asleep on either side of me. Happiness is feeling the warmth of two small bodies snuggled against you. <3

Life of a Nanny

To be a nanny is something hard to describe, hard to sum up, if one has never been a nanny. It's a babysitter, yet much more. It's a mother, yet not quite. It's a life, more than a job. It's a job that starts as just that; a job. Over time, however, it becomes so much a part of you that the very thought of leaving is hard to imagine happily. If you happen to be blessed to get a good nanny job.
I am.
I watch three kids. I have been watching them for three years now. Sierra is nearly seven, Ryan is four, and Eva is drawing close to two years old. These aren't their real names, which I won't reveal here in respect to the families wishes.
First posts are always weird. This one is no exception. But oh well. Thus the purpose of the blog has been stated. Nothing further will be stated, except to say that I will be posting happenings and thoughts on being a nanny here. And so begins a new blog.