So, you want to be a nanny? Fantastic! Welcome to hell! OK, that was a little dramatic, but then again, so are kids.

I started looking for after school child care jobs after I graduated from high school, before I began college. I’ve always loved kids, maybe because I’m a kid, too. I love board games, and princesses and story books, I’m more than happy to listen to terrible band music, and critique ballet routines. I’m a wiz with things like history, and English, and not too shabby a tutor for math either. All of this, combined with my, slightly less than appealing physical appearance, made me a wonder for the nannying world. Mothers don’t have to worry about strange men being around their kids because I mean, really? I haven’t had a boyfriend in forever. They don’t need to worry about cheating husbands, come on, I’m an overweight girl with a boy’s haircut and chronic acne. No need to stress, and this makes them feel safe.

But if you want to be a nanny, it’s not all board games and Disney shows. It’s crying over iPads and limited TV time. It’s whining about homework and baths. It’s pouting because mommy’s not there at bedtime and throwing a fit because Miss Ranza won’t let me have one more jellybean for dessert! And that’s just the younger kids. Your older kids will be like you were at that age. How did you act in your pre-teens? Were you sullen, angry, glued to your cell phone? Did you feel like you were some profound thinker, who would one day rule the world? Did you still believe in fairy tales and Santa Claus? Well, so does your pre-teen. She’s going through a strange time, and it’s easy to forget to be sensitive to that. She will look to you for guidance. She’ll ask you to do her makeup and show her how this magical thing called lip liner works. She’ll ask you about things you probably don’t want to talk about, sexual things. How does this work? Why does the human body do XYZ? Why are guys different? What happens to their bodies? Why am I growing hair? How do I shave?

Last week, for example, my 11-year-old asked me what Asexual and Pansexual was, what transsexual means, and is it the same as transgender? Now, I don’t believe I’m any kind of expert on the LGBTQIA+ community. Let it never be known that I believe I know everything. However, there are somethings I do know. I know the difference between transsexual and transgender. I know that I, personally, identify as heteroromantic and pansexual. And I know that I had a friend who was Ace (Asexual) for many years. What I didn’t know, was how do I explain all this to her? Her family, while sweet as can be, is very conservative. I, on the other hand, much to my mother’s displeasure, am not. I believe in equal rights and peace. Honestly, I’m a bit of a hippy and a liberal to boot. My issue was not that she was asking these questions, after all, by her age I had discovered my body and was already experimenting with my sexuality. My issue was that I didn’t know how to give her the full truth without stepping over family values.

And that, my friend, is the heart of the nannying struggle. There are things you and the family can and will disagree on. The family I nanny for is Jewish, I, on the other hand, was raised by a Catholic-raised father who grew up a staunch southern Baptist. I also grew up to resent the confines of a small town Baptist church and broke away in my early teens. I don’t want that for the girls I nanny. Of course, as a Christian, I always hope they will one day accept Jesus, but that’s not my business, and for me to try and turn their children away from their Jewish faith would be a gross breach of trust.

So, of course, there’s the religious struggle. What if my family (meaning the family I nanny) is a different faith than me? What then? Well then, you keep your mouth shut. But, never lie, I have never lied to my girls. The five-year-old continually asks what the difference between Christianity and Judaism is, and what’s Jesus? And why is there an Easter bunny, and why do you celebrate Christmas? Why doesn’t Santa come to our house? Why do you wear a cross necklace? I never, ever, lie to my girls. I tell them the truth with the exception of things like magical creatures because I’m here to guide, not break hearts.

I tell her the honest truth as I know it to be, the difference between Judaism and Christianity is we believe a man named Jesus died for our sins; the Easter bunny is a relic left over from paganism; Santa doesn’t come to your house because y’all celebrate Hanukkah (you get eight days of presents, we get one); I wear a cross because that’s where we believe Jesus died for us. I don’t tell them these truths to steer them away from their faith. I tell them the truth out of love.

I love these girls. I believe I’ve loved them since the moment I met them. Every day I get to go to work is a great day. I believe I was placed in their lives for a reason, and they were placed in mine for a reason as well. It’s hard to know when you’re stepping over the line. It’s hard to know how to not disturb the peace that is an anchored home, but it is possible. Nannying is, first and foremost, about love and safety. If you have the right family, if you have the capacity for it, nannying will be the most rewarding job you ever do. No day will be a bad day. Even the bad days, the very worst of them, will be better than the best days at your old fast food, or retail job.

Yes, you will be adjusting, continuously. You’re learning a new life and schedule. Over time, without fail, you will adopt new habits and beliefs. But you must remember, with every piece of information you garner from them, you gift a piece back. There is always a flow of ideas, and love. The bond between two families that nannying creates, can and will last a lifetime. So if you’re questioning whether or not you want to be a nanny, the answer is steel your patience and prepare to be the mom of your friend group. Guide them with your mistakes, not with cheesy PSA slogans, and love them. Unconditionally, without fail, as you would your own flesh and blood, love them. That is all you need to know to be a nanny.