Babysitting is often times a teenager’s first job. I had babysat many times growing up for many different families. I became a nanny this summer and figured it couldn’t be much harder than any other time I’ve babysat. Sure, it’d be longer hours, more days, and maybe more work, but I didn’t think it would consume so much of my life and energy. I wasn’t responsible just for the children but for the mother and father as well. I became a second mom in the family and carried them all on my shoulders. Instead of just feeding, babysitting, and playing with the boys like a typical nanny, I did so much more. It got to the point where I would spend hours just listening to the mother vent about her life issues. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
I originally took on the job of being a part time nanny in order to make some extra money. I had worked for this family in the past as their babysitter and that wasn’t so bad. So, I thought this would be simple as pie, but clearly I was wrong and had my work cut out for me. When I took on the job, the mom gave me some simple guidelines. These guidelines included a few reasons why she needed me to watch her two sons. Before getting into that, I should probably give a little bit of background information on the family. The mother is at stay home mom. On the side, she is involved with local theater companies, does costuming and handles the business side of things. The father is a businessman and works Monday-Friday in Chicago. He normally doesn’t get home until about 6:30 pm. They have two little boys. The older one is four and the baby is just one year old. The mom told me my job would consist of watching the boys from 11 am to around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. She told me she needed a nanny so she could run errands, and clean out the front rooms of the house. She was trying to make space for a costume closet, and she really had her work cut out for her. So for me, that meant I would be with the boys for several hours a day. This meant cooking them meals, making sure they are safe, not getting into trouble, and making sure to keep them happy. Little did I know, the pretty picture I imagined in my head was only a fantasy and simply not reality at all.
On my very first day, I was already put in a tough position. Originally, I was asked to show up at noon and stay until four in the afternoon. But, as soon as I walked in the door, I was attacked by both parents asking me if I could stay until 1 am because they both “forgot” that they had prior commitments and couldn't cancel them. Of course I said yes instantly because that meant more money, but this wasn't just a one-time-thing like I thought it would be. Things like this continued on from June all the way through August. They were constantly asking me to stay later or to change my schedule in order to accommodate them and their needs. In my eyes, I was no longer a “nanny” but I felt like a mother to these sweet little boys.
As the days got longer and I spent more time there, I found myself doing chores such as cleaning the family’s dishes. Neither of the parents would clean the dishes or stock up on food for me to feed the children. The second week there, I found myself doing the dishes that remained in the sink since my very first day nannying. Frankly, I was fed up with it. The uncleanliness got to the point where there were no clean baby bottles for me to give the baby his milk. I really don't understand how people can live like that. It originally seemed like they had such a good life, but as weeks went on I started to observe more of their environment and the family themselves.
As my job continued, I was no longer a nanny, nor just a mother, but I became a therapist too. Just like Rose, “she became adept at reading social cues and managing feelings, both with customers and herself” (Rose). I found that every time I put the boys down for their afternoon nap, which I wanted to use as an hour of free time to myself, would become an hour of venting for the mother. She would come to me and let out all of her feelings. She confided in me, extremely personal details about her life including the struggles that her and her husband were having. At first, I didn’t mind. I told myself, maybe she was having a few bad days, or maybe she just really needed someone to talk to. But instead, it turned into our usual weekly (or even daily) talking sessions. The boys would be sleeping and their mother would be home, but instead of letting me go home, she had me stick around and play therapist. Not only was I her personal therapist, she placed me as her new best friend as well. She is an older woman and I am an 18 year old. As you can see, there is a big gap in our age. Not only was it uncomfortable for me, but it was also hard to think like her. When she would begin ranting I had to start thinking like a thirty year old too. No more thinking like a teenage girl, I had to mature and try to start thinking like a married mother of two in her thirties. It seemed to help the mother, and I’m glad she was able to use me as an outlet for her emotions. However, it was too much for me. I was there to be a nanny, not a second mom, not a therapist, and not her best friend.
It’s been several weeks now since my last day working for that family, and surprisingly I miss those two little boy’s very much. Even though the job got very tough and frustrating at times, I do miss those sweet little sentimental moments with the family. I suppose that's the funny thing about certain jobs, while you're working and going through the same routine you dread it everyday. But as soon as you leave, you start missing some of those memories that you made with the people that you became close to, and all I said to the family as I walked away for the last time was, “Thank you, and I wish you all luck!”
